When life is bleak, anime—particularly shonen adventure series—hype us up and warm us with encouraging characters to keep going. What anime fan, after all, hasn’t smiled at Naruto’s “Believe it!” catchphrase or found themselves smiling at Luffy’s determination? But what about when the difficulties we’re facing are too great and difficult for us to find encouragement from a Deku or Ichigo? When things aren’t turning our way, our own paths growing more tangled and winding? In those instances and seasons, I sometimes remember: there’s anime for that, too, some which take us through journeys even darker than our own, but which even so remind me of the hope we ultimately have.
And hope is what we cling to when setbacks come our way. As I mentioned, it can be heartening to see Naruto’s orphaned child overcome his past or no-quirk Deku rise to the greatest hero. But when pain presses down in my own life, those models just aren’t enough. The characters feel too inwardly strong—and that’s just not me.
When I’m looking for media to watch in these instances, I tend to go darker—sometimes to series where the protagonists are more imperfect or who suffer, and then suffer again and again. Like Made in Abyss, where Riko has lost her mom, and then loses friends, and almost loses her life (and sanity) multiple times. Or Clannad, where Tomoya looks like he’s going to be able to escape the generational curse of alcoholism and neglect, only to keep getting knocked down and then become an alcoholic himself.

Those stories—some of which have been termed “torture pr0n” by critics—often feel to me like real life. When you lose someone close to you, for instance, you don’t work through that pain in one arc and then just revisit those memories as needed to push back other obstacles; the healing is messier and never complete. Or when work overwhelms you, and you feel like you’re drowning, you can’t just discover your bankai and win; you may be stuck with an abusive boss for years or may have to quit and then deal with the fear of unemployment.
The past few weeks, the Twwk household has dealt with our own personal crises. And, as it typically goes, it’s been accompanied by additional stressful situations that compound in the initial distress, including work difficulties, financial setbacks, and a car accident (though everyone is fine, thank God!). And in times like these—as much as I love him—Luffy ain’t doing it for me.

The answer for the Christian, of course, is Jesus Christ. I’m reminded of what I’ve referred to for decades now as my “emo verse” of the Bible, from Psalms 43:5—one that I turned to consistently when dealing with the throes of being a typical young adult:
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
The word of God should renew me. I should find solace in prayer with my Father. The church and family should be there for me. But for a variety of reasons—some because of my own faults or for not real fault at all—I’m unable to find comfort in these holy practices. In such situations, I find myself drawn to entertainment—usually not for any holy reason but typically to numb my brain and avoid reality. And yet, God uses even my running away and a medium made by non-Christian artists and creators to speak to me.
He may use Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End to teach me how patient and kind he is. Or encourage me to pray for my enemy through Though I Am An Inept Villainess. Or use Spike Spiegel as a model of how to overcome fear.

A core belief on Beneath the Tangles is that you can find God and draw closer to him through anime. It’s not intended for such, of course, and you ought to be careful not to too closely align faith to an art form that isn’t Jesus-centered, but the richness of the stories, the beauty of the art, and the truth of many of the themes in anime offer a richness that can speak to our souls.
I believe God can and does use anime to talk to our hearts as an accompaniment to the major means he’s arranged for us—scripture, church, prayer—and even in place of them when our circumstances or sin prevent us from listening to those voices.
And so, in a series like Haibane Renmei, where Rakka feels betrayed by Reki, who herself is unable to overcome her own feelings of worthlessness, we see the power of friendship and grace to break through depression. And in Trigun, where Wolfwood’s ending isn’t conventionally happy, he finds answers at the cross.
We respond to stories. Jesus himself used creative and relevant tales to explain concepts to the disciples and the rest of his audience, aligning them with the truth of Scripture. He painted vivid pictures for people to better understand the word of God.
Anime may not be from the mouth of Jesus, but it does paint pictures that—if our foundations are on the rock—can draw us nearer to Jesus. And in times of struggle, like that which is happening to the Twwk household now, that’s a grace note that reminds us we’re not alone. Secrets of the Silent Witch or Mushoku Tensei might be enough to carry us through the next day, the next hour, the next minute.

What a beautiful thing to find hope in series that might be otherwise seen as bleak, dark, or controversial.
Thank God for anime—yet another way that God uses to remind us that even in the darkest of nights, there is hope. There is light.
* Speaking of community, we encourage you to join our Beneath the Tangles community. It is not a replacement for a church, but it can be an encouraging and otakufied digital home.
