That was an extremely interesting read. I knew the song, but did not know anything about the historical Wenceslas other than maybe the first verse of the carol. When, incidentally, I did not hear even once this year.
What strikes me most is your vindication of legend as an important and revealing window into some striking truths about the essence of humanity. Certain legends survive and become popular because they touch our hearts; because they represent something that we long to be, or long to be touched by. If humankind has a Creator and did not come about against all odds by some unfathomable cosmic accidents, then it must be true that we were created according to a design. So then, legends are borne in part because we're designed to long for something they represent.
We are designed to want heroes, champions who can do for us what we can't do for ourselves. At their root, so many great stories are about the triumph of "the good." We invent Superman, Spiderman, WonderWoman, Marvel. We tell ourselves the wars we fight are to preserve the things we identify as "good." I glue myself to the TV because Josh Allen can do what I can't do ... win a lot of football games for my "good" home town!
But as you pointed out, there's one hero story, one legend which, upon closer scrutiny, is much more reasonable for honest people to accept as historical fact. The tomb is empty. The hero in question conquered more than poverty, more than a corrupt government, more than any kind of human suffering. He conquered death itself. He opened a way for never-ending celebration. He showed himself as the one true answer to all the longings of the human heart as we manufacture lesser heros, lesser idols.
And deny as though some of us might, until we lay hold of Him among all the others, we'll find at the very end that the heros we choose are unable to save us from death and misery.
St. Augustine wrote in his Confessions, "Great are you, O Lord, and exceedingly worthy of praise; your power is immense, and your wisdom beyond reckoning. And so we men, who are a due part of your creation, long to praise you... you have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."
Merry Christmas, my friend! Until we see him as he truly is, in the New Jerusalem.
Thanks for your thoughts, Dave. There is much to ponder on this topic, and you've offered some fruitful reflections. Perhaps one of the most telling features of the decline of our civilization (which seems to have accelerated beyond our most pessimistic expectations in just a few short years) is the comparative rarity of noble heroes.
You're correct to observe that no this-worldly hero can save us in the true and full sense that we need saving. But they have an indirect saving effect by imparting an expectant vision of the hero we all long for and need. Their true value is not what they do for us in their own right, but that they point beyond us to ideals that we were designed and made to appreciate and long for. This is the main theme of this piece—an idea that came to me with increasing clarity as I wrote it—and it's wonderful to see that you share and value that insight.
I will also add that I believe our society has passed through a critical inflection point that has left me more encouraged for our future than I’ve been in decades. I plan to write about that soon, but I'll say here that one aspect of my expectation is a resurging appreciation for noble themes, and the return of plausibility structures in which heroes can once again work their intended purpose for us.
C.S. Lewis wrote of Aslan as the hero over life and death. As parents, many of us used and are still using that story to point our children toward an appreciation of the noblest themes. Yes, I agree with all you've said here. That's what makes authors such as Lewis timeless; and every time "Hollywood" invests their time, talent and treasure in retelling those stories (and reaping an economic return, I might add!) it's an affirmation that those noble themes - one might even say the hope of humanity - forever endures and cannot be crushed.
That was an extremely interesting read. I knew the song, but did not know anything about the historical Wenceslas other than maybe the first verse of the carol. When, incidentally, I did not hear even once this year.
What strikes me most is your vindication of legend as an important and revealing window into some striking truths about the essence of humanity. Certain legends survive and become popular because they touch our hearts; because they represent something that we long to be, or long to be touched by. If humankind has a Creator and did not come about against all odds by some unfathomable cosmic accidents, then it must be true that we were created according to a design. So then, legends are borne in part because we're designed to long for something they represent.
We are designed to want heroes, champions who can do for us what we can't do for ourselves. At their root, so many great stories are about the triumph of "the good." We invent Superman, Spiderman, WonderWoman, Marvel. We tell ourselves the wars we fight are to preserve the things we identify as "good." I glue myself to the TV because Josh Allen can do what I can't do ... win a lot of football games for my "good" home town!
But as you pointed out, there's one hero story, one legend which, upon closer scrutiny, is much more reasonable for honest people to accept as historical fact. The tomb is empty. The hero in question conquered more than poverty, more than a corrupt government, more than any kind of human suffering. He conquered death itself. He opened a way for never-ending celebration. He showed himself as the one true answer to all the longings of the human heart as we manufacture lesser heros, lesser idols.
And deny as though some of us might, until we lay hold of Him among all the others, we'll find at the very end that the heros we choose are unable to save us from death and misery.
St. Augustine wrote in his Confessions, "Great are you, O Lord, and exceedingly worthy of praise; your power is immense, and your wisdom beyond reckoning. And so we men, who are a due part of your creation, long to praise you... you have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."
Merry Christmas, my friend! Until we see him as he truly is, in the New Jerusalem.
Thanks for your thoughts, Dave. There is much to ponder on this topic, and you've offered some fruitful reflections. Perhaps one of the most telling features of the decline of our civilization (which seems to have accelerated beyond our most pessimistic expectations in just a few short years) is the comparative rarity of noble heroes.
You're correct to observe that no this-worldly hero can save us in the true and full sense that we need saving. But they have an indirect saving effect by imparting an expectant vision of the hero we all long for and need. Their true value is not what they do for us in their own right, but that they point beyond us to ideals that we were designed and made to appreciate and long for. This is the main theme of this piece—an idea that came to me with increasing clarity as I wrote it—and it's wonderful to see that you share and value that insight.
I will also add that I believe our society has passed through a critical inflection point that has left me more encouraged for our future than I’ve been in decades. I plan to write about that soon, but I'll say here that one aspect of my expectation is a resurging appreciation for noble themes, and the return of plausibility structures in which heroes can once again work their intended purpose for us.
C.S. Lewis wrote of Aslan as the hero over life and death. As parents, many of us used and are still using that story to point our children toward an appreciation of the noblest themes. Yes, I agree with all you've said here. That's what makes authors such as Lewis timeless; and every time "Hollywood" invests their time, talent and treasure in retelling those stories (and reaping an economic return, I might add!) it's an affirmation that those noble themes - one might even say the hope of humanity - forever endures and cannot be crushed.