Maybe it’s dangerous for a peace-loving Christian priest to admit to a generally peace-loving
congregation that one of his favorite movies is Braveheart. But I admit it, it is. For all its blood and
testosterone, I find something very stirring about personal sacrifice offered for the defeat of tyranny.
For me probably the most moving scene in Braveheart happens toward the end of the movie. The
evil and dying King Edward is at last on the verge of savoring his victory over the Scottish freedom
fighter William Wallace. After several pretty horrific tortures designed to break Wallace down and
induce him to admit his treason against the king and cry for mercy, the executioner hears the dying
Wallace feebly gasping to say something. Thinking that he’s about to say the words of submission
that will end his torture, the cold-blooded executioner says smugly, “The prisoner wishes to say a
word.”
And many of you know what happens next. As the executioner and the crowd lean in and tune their
ears to what they expect will be that soft word of submission, Wallace takes a deep breath and cries
out at the top of his lungs, “FREEDOM!” As he does this we see the very alarmed face of evil King
Edward realizing on his own death bed that he’s failed to break Wallace’s will. And the executioner
sadly gives the signal to end Wallace’s life, and of course this sets into motion the events that will
result in newfound freedom for the Scots.
Now, metaphors are usually imperfect. Some of Wallace’s behavior in the movie is less than godly.
And of course William Wallace wasn’t resurrected like Jesus. Yet there’s definite messianic
symbolism here. In a way, the scene I just described is the embodiment of Jesus’ words in today’s
Gospel reading: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
And it’s the outcome of this laying down of life that I’d like to spend a few minutes stressing this
morning, because there’s a parallel here, also. You see, not unlike what happened in Braveheart,
the result of Jesus laying down his life, is our freedom. Back in the early days of Christianity there
was a pretty heavy emphasis on the victory of Christ through the Cross and the Resurrection. In
fact, there are several major “theories” of the Cross in theology. One of these is known as “Christus
Victor”, or “Christ the Victor.” It’s still a central theme of the Christology in the Eastern Orthodox
church.
Those of you who were here for the Easter Vigil a few weeks ago heard the triumphant words of the
Orthodox Pascha Liturgy: “Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered. Let those who hate him flee
from before his face. Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those
in the tombs, bestowing life.” These words animate the concept of Christus Victor. We get some of
the flavor of this in our readings this morning. We have words that exalt God’s victory in general,
God’s victory through Christ, and our own victory by virtue of the victory of the God we worship.
Psalm 98 was written long before the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, of course. Yet its proclamations fit
well with the victory towards which so much of the Old Testament points in Christ. The psalmist
opens with the words, “Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things. With his
right hand and his holy arm has he won for himself the victory. The Lord has made known his
victory; his righteousness has he openly shown in the sight of the nations. He remembers his mercy
and faithfulness to the house of Israel, and all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our
God.”
Now, before we go any further with this whole concept of victory, we need to acknowledge how odd
this all may sound, once again, to modern, or postmodern ears.
We’ve had drummed into us that victory implies that someone has been vanquished, and we’re
supposed to see that the vanquished always have their own valid story, and we should have
sympathy for them. And it’s certainly unseemly to strut around and gloat over a conquest. There
really is a lot to be said for this viewpoint. Because often times when we become nationalistic or we
objectify our opponents, we miss the fact that they do have their own perspective on things, and
understanding that perspective often might turn us to a kinder and more godly disposition toward
them.
Therefore I want to make it clear that the victory of Christ is a different kind of victory. It’s not a
victory over a nation, or a culture, or a people group. Nor is it a victory over another religion. Christ’
s victory is the victory over evil, death, and the spiritual forces of darkness that want nothing but
death and despair for God’s beloved human creation! This is a victory about which we can feel
unreservedly good.
St. Paul writes to the Christians in Ephesus: “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh,
but against the rulers, against, the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness,
against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places [that is, in those places in the spiritual
realm].” Jesus himself repeatedly referred to the father of all evil as “the prince of this world” and
foretold of his coming demise. The chief rebel of all the fallen angels, who came to be know as
Satan, along with hordes of other fallen angels, who came to be known as demons, took up
residence on this fallen planet and became its spiritual tyrants. Suffering, sickness, death, cruelty,
greed, violence, and hopelessness have been their handiwork through the ages.
And if you want to see the magnitude is Christ’s victory, just try to imagine what the world would be
like with nothing at all to oppose those dark forces. Only the triumph of naked, cruel power,
and at life’s end, only more of the same. Nazi Germany was a small taste of that. That nation at that
time showed in a chilling way that a people without hope can quickly become a people without
mercy. Make no mistake, there are still sizable pockets of this kind of evil remaining in the world
today. But the good news is that, since the Cross and the Resurrection, its defeat is assured.
All of us who share in Christ’s resurrection, ultimately share in Christ’s victory. St. John tells us in
today’s epistle reading: “Whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that
conquers the world, our faith. Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus
is the Son of God?” St. Paul says it, too. He writes, “In all these things we are super-conquerors
through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all of
creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Christ’s victory, the great victory over sin, evil and death, is a victory of love! In it the light of love is
shone into the darkness of despair, and ultimately destroys it. It’s a victory about which we can feel
good, but this isn’t to say that it’s a bloodless victory, because it was possible only by the blood of
Christ. It continues to be perpetuated by the blood of the martyrs, and in the blood shed from within
the persecuted church.
If the most inspiring scene in Braveheart is the one I described a few minutes ago, an easy second
goes to William Wallace’s inspirational speech before his battle against King Edward’s army. Many
of the Scots are feeling overwhelmed as they see the size and strength of the English army. Some
simply want to flee. So Wallace shouts,
“Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many
years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just
one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never
take... OUR FREEDOM!”
That line makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. Jesus himself essentially makes the same
claim on our behalf. He says, “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” This assurance
brings the Easter season full circle. Because through his death and resurrection, Jesus has already
won the victory. It’s playing itself out each and every day in many small ways the world over. It
comes with every act of mercy— every time the hungry are fed or the naked are clothed. Victory is
won each time someone stands up for Christ in the face of persecution and even death. It’s won
whenever a person is healed from an illness or set free from an addiction. It happens whenever
hatred is overcome by reconciliation and love. But most of all victory is clinched each time a person
hungry for goodness and fulfillment comes to Jesus with open hands to receive his gift of peace,
and the assurance of eternal life. For in that moment he becomes joyfully and permanently free.
Whatever small price we pay in this life for our faith doesn’t compare with the eternal glory of that gift.
So we who’ve received this gift can join with the voice of the psalmist, and say that through Christ
“All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God. Shout with joy all you lands; lift up your
voice, rejoice and sing. Sing to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the voice of song. With
trumpets and the sound of the horn shout with joy before the King, the Lord. Let the sea make a
noise and all that is in it, the lands and those who dwell therein. Let the rivers clap their hands, and
let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord.” For Christ has brought us the victory. In the name of
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
congregation that one of his favorite movies is Braveheart. But I admit it, it is. For all its blood and
testosterone, I find something very stirring about personal sacrifice offered for the defeat of tyranny.
For me probably the most moving scene in Braveheart happens toward the end of the movie. The
evil and dying King Edward is at last on the verge of savoring his victory over the Scottish freedom
fighter William Wallace. After several pretty horrific tortures designed to break Wallace down and
induce him to admit his treason against the king and cry for mercy, the executioner hears the dying
Wallace feebly gasping to say something. Thinking that he’s about to say the words of submission
that will end his torture, the cold-blooded executioner says smugly, “The prisoner wishes to say a
word.”
And many of you know what happens next. As the executioner and the crowd lean in and tune their
ears to what they expect will be that soft word of submission, Wallace takes a deep breath and cries
out at the top of his lungs, “FREEDOM!” As he does this we see the very alarmed face of evil King
Edward realizing on his own death bed that he’s failed to break Wallace’s will. And the executioner
sadly gives the signal to end Wallace’s life, and of course this sets into motion the events that will
result in newfound freedom for the Scots.
Now, metaphors are usually imperfect. Some of Wallace’s behavior in the movie is less than godly.
And of course William Wallace wasn’t resurrected like Jesus. Yet there’s definite messianic
symbolism here. In a way, the scene I just described is the embodiment of Jesus’ words in today’s
Gospel reading: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
And it’s the outcome of this laying down of life that I’d like to spend a few minutes stressing this
morning, because there’s a parallel here, also. You see, not unlike what happened in Braveheart,
the result of Jesus laying down his life, is our freedom. Back in the early days of Christianity there
was a pretty heavy emphasis on the victory of Christ through the Cross and the Resurrection. In
fact, there are several major “theories” of the Cross in theology. One of these is known as “Christus
Victor”, or “Christ the Victor.” It’s still a central theme of the Christology in the Eastern Orthodox
church.
Those of you who were here for the Easter Vigil a few weeks ago heard the triumphant words of the
Orthodox Pascha Liturgy: “Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered. Let those who hate him flee
from before his face. Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those
in the tombs, bestowing life.” These words animate the concept of Christus Victor. We get some of
the flavor of this in our readings this morning. We have words that exalt God’s victory in general,
God’s victory through Christ, and our own victory by virtue of the victory of the God we worship.
Psalm 98 was written long before the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, of course. Yet its proclamations fit
well with the victory towards which so much of the Old Testament points in Christ. The psalmist
opens with the words, “Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things. With his
right hand and his holy arm has he won for himself the victory. The Lord has made known his
victory; his righteousness has he openly shown in the sight of the nations. He remembers his mercy
and faithfulness to the house of Israel, and all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our
God.”
Now, before we go any further with this whole concept of victory, we need to acknowledge how odd
this all may sound, once again, to modern, or postmodern ears.
We’ve had drummed into us that victory implies that someone has been vanquished, and we’re
supposed to see that the vanquished always have their own valid story, and we should have
sympathy for them. And it’s certainly unseemly to strut around and gloat over a conquest. There
really is a lot to be said for this viewpoint. Because often times when we become nationalistic or we
objectify our opponents, we miss the fact that they do have their own perspective on things, and
understanding that perspective often might turn us to a kinder and more godly disposition toward
them.
Therefore I want to make it clear that the victory of Christ is a different kind of victory. It’s not a
victory over a nation, or a culture, or a people group. Nor is it a victory over another religion. Christ’
s victory is the victory over evil, death, and the spiritual forces of darkness that want nothing but
death and despair for God’s beloved human creation! This is a victory about which we can feel
unreservedly good.
St. Paul writes to the Christians in Ephesus: “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh,
but against the rulers, against, the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness,
against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places [that is, in those places in the spiritual
realm].” Jesus himself repeatedly referred to the father of all evil as “the prince of this world” and
foretold of his coming demise. The chief rebel of all the fallen angels, who came to be know as
Satan, along with hordes of other fallen angels, who came to be known as demons, took up
residence on this fallen planet and became its spiritual tyrants. Suffering, sickness, death, cruelty,
greed, violence, and hopelessness have been their handiwork through the ages.
And if you want to see the magnitude is Christ’s victory, just try to imagine what the world would be
like with nothing at all to oppose those dark forces. Only the triumph of naked, cruel power,
and at life’s end, only more of the same. Nazi Germany was a small taste of that. That nation at that
time showed in a chilling way that a people without hope can quickly become a people without
mercy. Make no mistake, there are still sizable pockets of this kind of evil remaining in the world
today. But the good news is that, since the Cross and the Resurrection, its defeat is assured.
All of us who share in Christ’s resurrection, ultimately share in Christ’s victory. St. John tells us in
today’s epistle reading: “Whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that
conquers the world, our faith. Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus
is the Son of God?” St. Paul says it, too. He writes, “In all these things we are super-conquerors
through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all of
creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Christ’s victory, the great victory over sin, evil and death, is a victory of love! In it the light of love is
shone into the darkness of despair, and ultimately destroys it. It’s a victory about which we can feel
good, but this isn’t to say that it’s a bloodless victory, because it was possible only by the blood of
Christ. It continues to be perpetuated by the blood of the martyrs, and in the blood shed from within
the persecuted church.
If the most inspiring scene in Braveheart is the one I described a few minutes ago, an easy second
goes to William Wallace’s inspirational speech before his battle against King Edward’s army. Many
of the Scots are feeling overwhelmed as they see the size and strength of the English army. Some
simply want to flee. So Wallace shouts,
“Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many
years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just
one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never
take... OUR FREEDOM!”
That line makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. Jesus himself essentially makes the same
claim on our behalf. He says, “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” This assurance
brings the Easter season full circle. Because through his death and resurrection, Jesus has already
won the victory. It’s playing itself out each and every day in many small ways the world over. It
comes with every act of mercy— every time the hungry are fed or the naked are clothed. Victory is
won each time someone stands up for Christ in the face of persecution and even death. It’s won
whenever a person is healed from an illness or set free from an addiction. It happens whenever
hatred is overcome by reconciliation and love. But most of all victory is clinched each time a person
hungry for goodness and fulfillment comes to Jesus with open hands to receive his gift of peace,
and the assurance of eternal life. For in that moment he becomes joyfully and permanently free.
Whatever small price we pay in this life for our faith doesn’t compare with the eternal glory of that gift.
So we who’ve received this gift can join with the voice of the psalmist, and say that through Christ
“All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God. Shout with joy all you lands; lift up your
voice, rejoice and sing. Sing to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the voice of song. With
trumpets and the sound of the horn shout with joy before the King, the Lord. Let the sea make a
noise and all that is in it, the lands and those who dwell therein. Let the rivers clap their hands, and
let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord.” For Christ has brought us the victory. In the name of
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Victory!
Sixth Sunday of Easter, 2009
Sixth Sunday of Easter, 2009
May 17, 2009
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton
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