5(00) Minutes
By Anthony Casperson
5-2-26
It’s the 500th blog for Brushstrokes of a Theonerd! Time to celebrate.
(And, no, the title isn’t telling you how long it’s going to take to read it.)
Because of this auspicious occasion, I decided to look for some other 500 to tie into this week’s blog. It needed to fit our general theme for the website. Also, it needed to be able to lead into something theological, while practical for us. Therefore, I searched far and wide for the perfect illustration.
I think I found one in the comic book issue of Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1) #500. A number of reasons show why it’s the right 500 for this celebratory moment.
First, it deals with time—the future and the past. A possibility to change the past also happens during it. This coincides with the main illustration from Brushstrokes of a Theonerd’s first ever blog, which came from the show Doctor Who, everyone’s favorite time-travelling Gallifreyan.
Second, it touches on the topic of continuing on, despite the problems, difficulties, and trials of this life. That’s one of the most common themes for the blogs here. So it fits right in.
And third, where else should I look than Spider-Man for this very special blog for the “web”site? (I know, it’s a ridiculous joke. But doesn’t that make it all the more fitting?)
But enough about why it’s an apt opening. We should take a look at the illustration itself.
In the issue, our friendly, neighborhood wall-crawler had gotten caught up in some incident that allowed him to see two moments of his life. One was his future death, which leaned into a less-than-heroic event. The other was the day in the past when he first got bitten by that radioactive spider.
With both moments before him, Spidey had to consider whether or not he should intervene. Ultimately, he didn’t interfere for either. And in particular, with regard to his superhero origin story, he’d decided that the events from that point to his present were all of what made him who he was today. To undo any single piece—especially that spider bite—would alter him too much to be worth it.
At that moment, Spider-Man heard the voice of Doctor Strange calling out to him, granting him a lifeline out of this time situation. But that meant Spidey had to relive and experience a number of important moments from his past. Those very same difficulties and trials he’d known to have made him whom he’d become.
One in particular—the death of Gwen Stacy—almost made him want to quit. The pain was too much. And we can understand that feeling. Some of life’s troubles hit so much harder than others. They define us in ways that etch deeper scars. But continuing on is still required of us. But during this lapse of resolve Doctor Strange reminded Spider-Man of that need to continue on to get him to reach the next moment.
Eventually, the wall-crawler reached the moment just before he was shunted into that timey-wimey space. He stopped the event from happening by reaching out for Doctor Strange. The Sorcerer Supreme arrived to help out, but had to be clued in by Spider-Man as to what had happened. (Apparently, it was an alternate timeline Doctor Strange who helped our hero.)
During this explanation, Doctor Strange said something about now understanding the reason why he’d suddenly found a magical trinket in his pocket, and handed the gift over to Spidey. As the wall-crawler left, Doctor Strange became engaged in another mystical battle that had a rather obtrusive editor’s note about an upcoming mini-series.
Anyway, Peter returned to his home to celebrate his birthday with Mary Jane and his Aunt May. Afterwards, while Peter was alone, he took out that little gift from Doctor Strange and opened it. Inside the only thing he found was a note saying, “You have five minutes. Spend them as you wish.”
Peter turned around to see his Uncle Ben, as he’d been before his death. The pivotal moment in Spider-Man’s life journey hadn’t been undone. But, because of this special gift, he could have closure with it in a way that he’d not been able to have otherwise.
The troubles and difficulties of this life are what make us who we are today. We’ll never have the ability to choose to undo them, the way Spidey did. But we can realize the same truth anyway. Those events, and our reactions to them, made us as we now stand. The good and the bad times stand equally in this. And we definitely have scars that were more deeply cut into our lives.
All of this perspective shifting allows us to understand the difficulties in a different light.
One of this website’s oft-gone-to passages reminds us of this truth as well. Romans 5:1-5 tells us to “rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.” But more than that, we should rejoice in our sufferings, the trials and troubles. The joy isn’t that they happened. No one wants them to happen. Instead, we rejoice because those sufferings led us to this moment of hope in the glory of God.
Suffering produces endurance. When we face the troubles head on, we learn in ways that running away will never produce. It’s only when we continue to face the trials that we can grow through them.
Endurance produces character. Because we’ve continued to face the difficulties, we become stronger people. Literally who we are on the inside changes to match the resilient endurance. We then are able to stand with firm footing in future struggles.
Character produces hope. This hope isn’t wishful thinking or a strong desire for future change. Rather, it’s that firm grip on the glory of God that persists even when our feet get swept out from underneath us. It’s what we cling to throughout any and every moment of suffering.
We should rejoice in suffering, because it leads us to grow ever deeper into that firm foundation of God’s glory. The two ends mirror one another.
I don’t know what all of the sufferings of the past were for you. I could never really understand every instance of the pain that made you who you are today. But I do trust that how we view and respond to those moments creates in us the possibility for good and godly things—no matter how terrible the situation had been.
(Editor’s note: I’ll talk about my own application of this in the 10th anniversary blog in a couple of weeks.)
Although, we’re not able to change the past, sometimes a little bit of closure is needed for us to grow that endurance and character and hope. It might be a conversation with a person, or a heart-felt expression toward someone no longer living. Closure might even mean talking directly to God about how this all works toward his glory and our growth.
So, I hope that we take just a little bit of time—right now, or sometime soon—to get that little bit of closure to help us take the endurance and character growth and allow that suffering to lead us to hope.
You have five minutes. Spend them as you wish.