Vengeance. It’s the main thread running through Spider-Man 3. Of course, Harry Osborn taps on the window of revenge quite a bit throughout Spider-Man 2, but he never really breaks through to the other side until, quite literally, he breaks through the mirror and discovers his father’s lab, with this exhortation from his father: Avenge me.
Harry first acts on his vengeance by attacking Peter on the street, in that marvelous action-set piece involving Harry in full-on New Goblin gear and Peter in a suit holding a wedding ring. After his unfortunate bout with amnesia, and at the behest of his pops, Harry decides to attack Peter’s heart by orchestrating the break-up of Peter and Mary Jane. And then he and Peter get into that big fight in Harry’s house, set to the jazz bass line … and Harry winds up with smokin’ good looks, thanks to a Goblin grenade.
Peter wreaks his share of vengeance in Spider-Man 3 as well. In addition to caving in to the desires of the symbiote by beating the tar out of Harry and crushing Mary Jane’s heart in that campy dance sequence, he destroys the Sandman, thinking that he’s killed the man who murdered his Uncle Ben in cold blood.
After taking out Flint Marko, Peter stashes the black suit and pays a visit to Aunt May to tell her the news. He has a trace of a smile on his face as he tells her, very quietly, “Flint Marko, the man who killed Uncle Ben … he was killed last night.” It’s almost as if Peter is expecting Aunt May to break out into delighted joy at the thought of vengeance having been served. But he’s a little premature in his celebration.
Peter is unprepared for Aunt May’s actual reaction, which is sad shock.
Vengeance has a way of coloring our perception of others. Because we’re looking through the eyes of vengeance, we think we’re seeing one thing when we’re actually seeing something completely different. We’re blind to the truth. We’ve been blinded by our own vengeful hearts.
“What happened?” Aunt May asks reverently.
“Spider-Man killed him,” Peter says, the pride apparent in his voice.
“Spider-Man?” Aunt May says. “I don’t understand.”
Peter’s face goes blank. This was not the response he was expecting. Vengeance has gotten in his way.
“Spider-Man doesn’t kill people,” Aunt May continues. “What happened?” she asks again, this time more insistently.
Peter stumbles around for words, starting and restarting his response, never getting past the first syllable. Finally, he drops the poker face and allows his amused bewilderment to show through. “I thought that you’d feel …” He trails off, not really wanting to finish the sentence, maybe realizing that the word “happy” would be a highly inappropriate ending.
“He deserved it, didn’t he?” Peter asks, truthfully, honestly asking the question. He’s not trying to convince Aunt May of anything—he really believes Flint Marko deserved to die.
“I don’t think it’s for us to say whether a person deserves to live or die,” Aunt May replies, and we can tell she means it. This isn’t something she’s just saying—it’s a firm conviction.
“But, Aunt May, he killed Uncle Ben,” Peter says, as if she doesn’t quite comprehend that fact.
But she remains undeterred. “Uncle Ben meant the world to us, but he wouldn’t want us living one second with revenge in our hearts. It’s like a poison. It can take you over. Before you know it … turns us into something ugly.”
The look on Peter’s face as Aunt May unspools the basic theme of the film is priceless. She’s just described him, under the influence of the black suit, and we can see that he’s greatly affected. Unfortunately, Peter’s worst behavior is yet to come (we’re going to say that detonating the pumpkin bomb in Harry’s face and leaving him for dead is worse than spraying the Sandman with several tons of water). We still have a good half-hour, maybe 45 minutes, of Peter living out his various revenge fantasies.
But Aunt May is right—revenge is like a poison. And it’s taking over our sweet, good-natured Peter Parker and replacing him with a much darker, selfish version. Slowly, Peter’s better tendencies are being poisoned by his thirst for vengeance, and the more he allows it—the more he nurses his hurts and tries to heal them with revenge—the darker and colder he gets.
The point, as we see it, is that revenge is only a way to tragedy. Let’s look at the lives that Peter’s vengeful actions impact:
• He intentionally chooses to take Flint Marko’s life. No, his attempt doesn’t pan out, but he intends to kill Sandman. For a time, Peter Parker is a murderer.
• He lets a misunderstanding with Mary Jane get out of control, opening the door for Harry to wield his own brand of vengeance and nearly ruin their relationship. Then, Peter yields to his worst instincts, using Gwen Stacy’s affection to wound Mary Jane deeply and striking her in anger.
• He intentionally ruins Eddie Brock’s career, thereby lending a hand in the creation of his ultimate nemesis, Venom.
• He conducts a Battle Royale with Harry that ends with a bomb and a possibly dead best friend. Perhaps Peter doesn’t intend to kill Harry, but he certainly shows very little concern for Harry’s life.
All for what? For a little revenge.
Yes, Peter Parker has a lot of reasons to seek vengeance. Flint Marko did, in fact, kill his uncle. Mary Jane does, in fact, hurt him when she breaks up with him (why she doesn’t just tell Peter what is going on is a mystery—he is, after all, Spider-Man; if anyone can handle Harry, he can). Eddie Brock does, in fact, resort to treachery and manipulation to wrangle the photography job away from Peter. Harry does, in fact, seek to exact revenge against Peter.
But let’s look at what the Bible has to say about the subject, in Romans 12:17-21:
Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
This exhortation seems to counter logic. How can we possibly be expected to feed our hungry enemies? How can we give them something to drink (and not by opening up a big pressurized water pipe and deluging their sandiness with forceful gallons)?
God cares more about the state of our hearts than anything else. And, like Uncle Ben, He doesn’t want us to live for a second with revenge in our hearts. God wants to spare us the tragedy of revenge. Because when we react to hurt with vengefulness, we’re essentially saying we don’t believe that God is going to take care of us. We don’t believe that He is just. He must have been lying when He said, “It is mine to avenge; I will repay.”
We have to believe that God knows what He’s doing, and that it isn’t up to us to take our revenge on those who hurt us. It doesn’t make sense to our natural minds, but when we look at it from a supernatural point of view, it makes perfect sense. Leaving those hurts up to God relieves us of the all-too-weighty responsibility of taking care of them. We can’t do anything about the hearts of those who hurt us—we can only take care of our own hearts.
Otherwise, we’re taking the fate of the world into our own hands. We’re telling God, “It’s okay—I got this.” We’re thumbing our nose at the Creator of the universe and saying, “What You’re doing isn’t good enough—I need something else, something that I perceive to be better than anything You can offer.”
How vain.
Guard your heart well. Look at Peter Parker’s story in Spider-Man 3 as a cautionary tale. And if you find yourself giving in to revenge, take it to God and let Him heal you.