IP! BOOM! BANG! A SMALL COLORFUL figure sweeps past me down the stairs and lands on the hardwood floor with much noise and commotion.

"I am that hero!" a weak but determined yell emanates from the heap on the floor.

"Evan, be careful," I caution my son as I reach down to help the bedraggled hero to his feet.

"I will, Mommy!" he calls back as he once again zips around the corner, his purple cape fluttering behind him.

Enamored with the Unreal
My 5-year-old son is fascinated with a certain animated purple-yellow-green vegetable superhero who has no appendages other than a set of super plunger ears. In his animated domain of Bumblyburg, Larry-Boy sweeps around town with his purple cape and attempts to rescue victims, who in turn end up saving him and themselves in the process. He tends to be late, and at times fumbles, but he remains the hero, and my son loves him.

My husband and I are attempting to convert this intense devotion into a milder form of admiration.

Evan has a hefty daily dose of Larry-Boy's escapades from books, videos, and audiotapes. He memorizes passages from these sources and recites them throughout the day. He manages to draw a surprisingly true-to-form image of Larry-Boy in full color, with the red super plunger ears glistening in the sun and the purple cape fluttering in the wind. He gives these drawings away, like religious literature tracts, to his family and friends. Evan loves his hero and shares Larry-Boy with those around him.

Disenchanted
One weekend a friend of mine found out that Larry-Boy was to appear at our local Christian bookstore to promote a company-related movie. Thinking it would be fun to surprise Evan with a trip to the bookstore to meet his hero, we drove off for the big surprise, camera in hand to capture the moment.

Evan was chatting enthusiastically about the last video he'd seen on Larry-Boy when we arrived at the store's parking lot. The first time Evan set eyes on the seven-foot purple-yellow-green surprise through the store's window, his face went blank. My son's shoulders drooped at least 45 degrees, his eyelids dropped to half-mast, and his bottom lip hovered above his sternal notch. He stood for a long moment assessing the situation. Silence. All signs of enthusiasm left him.

After a period of recuperation Evan finally declared, "I am not talking to him!" And for the rest of the time he refused to take pictures with his superhero, and avoided him at all cost. For the rest of our visit my son dodged from one bookshelf to another as he tried to stay out of Larry-Boy's field of vision. He did find time, between his technical maneuvers, to give me a look that I could equate to "How could you bring me to such a farce?"

"Mommy, there's something the matter with him!" Evan said quietly through gritted teeth as he suspiciously eyed the looming flannel version, with its perpetual blank stare and pasted grin, from behind the book display. "What happened to his voice? Why doesn't he talk?"

To make matters worse, Larry-Boy picked the wrong time to malfunction. Poor Larry-Boy was slowly deflating. Hisssssssssss! His once-noble helmet was slowly flopping to the left as the air hissed out of the vent on his side. Hisssssssssss! His once-perky face was caving in, thrusting his forehead in front of the rest of his body, and dangerously bending his tubular body in half. Two store attendants held him up by his arms as he wobbled to the back of the store to get reinflated. Even before this flannel version's demise Evan recognized that this was not his superhero. He knew his superhero, and no imitation would do.

I also have a Superhero, and no imitation will do. He is closer than a brother; He is more supportive than a father, more tender than a mother, more faithful than a friend, and more passionate than a lover--for His love is greater than any other. I cannot comprehend it, and yet I cannot deny it. He died my death so I could live His life. His name is Jesus Christ. He is my Superhero, and I love Him.

The Final Charlatans
In these last days many will appear and claim to be the Christ. They will perform wonders and miracles, and claim "truth" contrary to the Word of God, and people will behold and believe. Many will be deceived because these imposters will not malfunction or deflate until they have achieved their evil purpose. Evil angels will resemble the form of our departed loved ones and attempt to woo us away from the truth. In a last desperate attempt Satan will impersonate Christ and appear as a compassionate savior in robes of brilliant white, having a voice so tender, saying words so dear, that many will bow down to him and follow his commands (see Ellen G. White, Last Day Events, pp. 160-164; cf. 2 Cor. 11:14). And these commands are already infiltrating our churches today.

Questions for Reflection 1. Children are highly impressionable. What principles should guide us in what we expose them to? What's the boundary between protection and overprotection? 2. Who are the people you most admire? Why do you admire them? Have they risen to the level of hero in your estimation? 3. Given the preponderance of heroes in contemporary society, what strategies can we adopt to make Jesus the supreme hero in our lives?

Even now we hear in our own church organization rumblings of people shifting gears--switching platforms and belief systems, based on political correctness and supposed global tolerance. On the other hand, there are people who hold fast to beliefs based on tradition alone, instead of truth gleaned from Scripture. Decisions with eternal consequences are made daily, based on what feels right instead of what is right. How do we know what to believe? How can we not be deceived? As the end of time approaches, more of Satan's deceptions will come at us--fast and furious; ready or not, here they come.