Fiction and Charity

"Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." (Matthew 5:14-16)

For the longest time (ever since a friend of mine told me I was "hiding my candle" when I didn't want to sing a solo in church), I've associated the above passage from the gospel of Matthew with the proper use of talents. Basically, my philosophy has been that people blessed with gifts should try to use those gifts to help other people.

Since my ultimate ambition in life is to be a FICTION writer, I've been trying to figure out how, exactly, someone who tells stories for a living can make a real, measurable positive impact in the world. Truth be told, I wasn't quite sure that it's possible (unless you totally sell out your religion).

Then I came across this news story:

In short, orphanages all over Japan started receiving donations from sources that identified themselves as "Naoto Date," the alter-ego of a fictional wrestler named Tiger Mask.

I did a little bit of research on the character: Tiger Mask played a "villainous" wrestlers (because, apparently, in professional wrestling, you have to choose a side) until he realized he was inspiring orphan children to also want to be evil. He then switched sides and started fighting for right... or something.

I don't know if the story of Tiger Mask in and of itself is so spectacular that it actually inspired people to go out and be charitable, but this particular slew of donations has inspired imitators, including donations made in the name of Japanese folk hero Momotaro.

Basically, this is like someone making a donation to charity and putting it under the name "Davey Crockett," WHICH IS AWESOME.

I've often looked at good fiction as being something that's just kinda "there," like a soft blanket - comforting, warm, reassuring, but not strictly necessary. Now, my opinion hasn't really changed, but I do have to say that it astounds me to no end that fictional characters can actually help compel people to do this kind of tangible good.

Seriously, beyond giving people tickets for one free admission to the Rapture, I doubt there's much more good fiction CAN do.