Sometimes I wonder how I get sucked in to certain shows. One I recently became hooked on is Syfy’s Being Human. This fantasy series revolves around three roommates attempting to live “normal” lives despite being a ghost, a vampire, and a werewolf. I know, it sounds crazy, but bear with me. I love fantasy: novels, movies, themes, anything. But when I first came across Being Human, I watched it only half-heartedly. I assumed it would be ridiculously campy, have bad dialogue (it’s on Syfy after all), and cheap acting. Amidst the doubt and skepticism, though, I was hooked. A few weeks ago I watched three episodes in a row and had to force myself to get off the couch and do something else. Realizing I loved this show, I asked myself why. What glued me to a show about a vampire, werewolf, and ghost?
I rattled my brain for a bit until I finally understood. I like the authenticity they live in together. One’s pupils turn black and fangs protrude from his gums when the thirst for blood stirs him. Another transforms into a savage wolf during full moons. Another makes lights flicker and walls tremble in the house while remaining invisible. Despite their monstrosities they desperately strive to be human, while being there for one another during times of supernatural outbursts or morphing. Through their desires for a normal life, we have a clear picture of authentic community, accountability, and denying the flesh. All of these things resonate with my own life.
I love being in community with honest, raw people who live authentically where they are in their life journey. Something that used to be so appealing about the gay community was that people genuinely lived life together. The baggage you had was shoveled into a pile with everyone else’s. No one had to put on a façade. No one judged what someone else was going through. Even in the midst of darkness I was free to be where I was.
I’ve recently transitioned out of a church small group. Looking back, I see we had a lot of depth, but I also realize we didn’t have a pile of mangled, personal baggage to work through together. There was always an invisible line we couldn’t cross. As I look for a new community I remember the times when I was in the thick of battle: struggling so much with temptation that I had to live a life of raw honesty in order to find freedom.
Since we live in reality and not fantasy, our problems don’t show themselves through dagger-like canines, invisibility, or morphing bodies. We can keep up appearances without any exterior consequences. Being vulnerable and honest about our spiritual and emotional place in life seems to be optional unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I think that’s why so many people go back to their addictions. They can’t live authentically in whatever place of life they’re in. 
Back to the show, it surprisingly doesn’t have all the expected glorification of carnality. There’s no positive or erotic lure to the main characters’ “monstrosities” (granted there are some sensual scenes scattered throughout). Aidan, the vampire, hates his carnal flesh and survives by feeding off blood bags from a hospital. The less he “feeds” on humans, the less desire he has to attack others. Josh, the werewolf, locks himself into the hospital basement or in the house during full moons—keeping himself from harming anyone. Sally, the ghost, tries to figure out how to live on as a spirit until her “door” to the afterlife reveals itself. Aidan and Josh are living counter-culturally together. Aidan has vampire friends tempting him to come back and be his “true” self, and Josh meets another werewolf that wants him to embrace the wolf inside. Yet both stand together with a common goal—deny their fleshly nature to be more like humans, and Sally encourages them in that.
Even with their different struggles and cultural differences (vampires view werewolves as animals to be kept for sport—a lesser class of beings), Josh and Aidan live life together to support one another in being “human”. Yet even in times of weakness they are gracious to each other through their personal experiential knowledge. It would be so much easier if our temptations, struggles, and sins were as physically obvious as a vampire and werewolf. Then authentic community and helping one another regardless of any struggle would be attainable.
I think there is a lesson to be learned in this show. We, the church, have to be more open and embrace one another in the midst of our personal process. No one is in the same place of healing. And we’re not all going to grow the same. We can’t be a community anymore that causes people to run away and back to old places of safety because they can’t be who they are presently. Praise God I had a community of buddies who got real and were raw in honesty with me as I was with them. They made me want the gay community less and less. I was able to truly do life—trudging through mud and all—with these brothers in Christ.
In the face of our differing struggles we were able to stand together, fighting against the same flesh and brokenness of this world. It doesn’t matter what we deal with or where we are coming from. We fight the carnal, fleshly nature—all of us. Why not own it together, and live out our lives honestly and with integrity? The broken authenticity of one can be encouragement and healing to another. We can fight our “monstrosities” together and find freedom through the power of Christ. But we have to be real and stand together. We pursue Christ and all His promises while acknowledging and owning our humanity—being human. That is where freedom comes from—the freedom to be me in the process of becoming more.
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