Let me be clear: I hate vampires. I hate the idea of vampires in general, and every time vampires pop up in entertainment or conversation, I hate that, too. Those who know me know that vampires are my number one fear, fictional though they be. They rank just above sharks. Just
above sharks, which are real and have therefore killed an infinitely greater percentage of humans than vampires.
Here are just a few reasons why vampires are by far the most fearsome of all monsters:
1. Vampires are not obvious. They look just like us. A little pale perhaps, but who's to judge someone for being a tad pasty? The mummy is hard to miss. But vampires? If vampires were real, anyone could be one.
2. Vampires get you at your most vulnerable. Vampires have this nasty habit of showing up in your bedroom at night. You would think that if you lived in a world where vampires existed, you would learn to lock your windows. But that makes for very tame cinema. Werewolves get you at night, too, but they usually get you walking through a forest at night and honestly, what are you doing in a forest at night? You had it coming.
3. Vampires are always in control. Have you ever seen a scared vampire? Me either. Every time you see a vampire, his or her cool smirk says, "I've been waiting for you. This is going down just how I want it to. Go ahead and run; I can turn into a bat."
4. Vampires can turn into bats.
5. Vampires turn you into one of them. Death is bad enough. But turning into someone who enjoys killing others, even their own friends or family? [Note: in writing this, my hair is literally standing on end. But I've come too far to turn back now.]
6. Vampires show no mercy. They never go easy on you; they never give you a break. They always get you, and they're usually laughing when they do.
And if the post was titled "Why I Hate Vampires," I would have delivered. But it's not. Because there's something we can learn from vampires. This was a fruit of a Monday reflection back on Sunday, not a reflection on the sermon, mind you, but a reflection on the 500,000 times I had to see the preview for ABC's new series "The Gates" while watching old episodes of LOST. Vampires, I think, uniquely embody one of the most subtle and overlooked qualities of genuine evil: it's attractive. Vampires, as a rule, are uniformly good-looking. Brad Pitt has been a vampire. Tom Cruise, too. Vampires are beautiful, seductive, magnetic. They don't usually have to chase you down; they reel you in. It's my uneducated and extremely wild guess that about 80% of vampire attacks happen while kissing...the vampire. [Again, shivers. I don't ever want to write the word "vampire" again. What was I thinking??] We just can't help ourselves.
Genuine evil is like that. Most of us aren't tempted or drawn to the big stuff, to genocides or lynchings. But the evil we commit, like gossip, or anger, or lust, we don't commit because it overpowers us, but because it allures us. We believe its promises of pleasure and power. We believe its eyes are only for us, and that it will deliver all the good it promises. We get a little closer to get a better view. And we're taken. If temptation came to us like Frankenstein's monster, lurching and stumbling and gargling incoherently, we'd be safe. We'd stay clear. But it comes to us with charm and flattery, masquerading as an angel in light, promising life and plotting against it. Satan himself may play the gentleman to get close, but he'll show no mercy, either.
In the end, the only promises we can believe are God's. There are many winking eyes out there, many coy smiles. Every day is full of invitations, full of offers, full of assurances of benevolence. But the only promises we can trust are those that come from lips that were once cracked in the midday sun on a hill outside Jerusalem. The only hands whose embrace we should seek are those marked with the scars of Calvary. Only Jesus Christ has given his life for ours, and has thus proven the sincerity of his love. If he tells us to steer clear of something, let's do it. If he tells us to run hard after something, let's do it. Can't we trust him? Whatever sin promises you is a lie. Whatever Jesus promises you is just the beginning.