Jesus, Star Wars, and the Myth of Redemptive Violence

Does Star Wars promote the narrative that violence saves us? Does Christianity?

Nine years ago, I wrote an article titled “Star Wars and the Myth of Redemptive Violence.” Today I’m going to summarize the arguments from that essay, add in some extra details to catch up on the past nine years, and then connect it all to Jesus’ death on the cross.

I will argue that, despite what it might look like on the surface, Star Wars does not promote the narrative that violence saves us, and neither does Jesus’ death on the cross. Instead, both Star Wars and the Bible show that it is sacrificial love that saves.

In my original 2016 article, I wrote:

Roy Scranton, an American veteran of the second Iraq war, argued in the New York Times that in Star Wars, “the violence of war has a power that unifies and enlightens…It’s a story about how violence makes us good.” In essence, Scranton argued that Star Wars is simply another piece of America’s cultural myth of redemptive violence.¹ This myth, [Scranton] argues, is emblematic of the US addiction to war and ultimately helps prop up the same powers that even now wreak violence around the globe.

If his critique is true, then every fan of Star Wars is part and parcel of systemic evil that the myth of redemptive violence has brought upon the world. … But is it [true]?…

Obviously one could find many examples in Star Wars where violence seems to save the day, where our noble heroes would otherwise be long gone without the quick violence of a warrior.… [Even if “gritty” films like Rogue One] delve into the savagery of war, that does not necessarily address the critique. After all, there are plenty of dark movies that expose the evils of violence while still ultimately centering on violence as the solution to evil (see: Hunger Games, Kill Bill, Saving Private Ryan, etc.). So let’s return to the initial question: does the story of Star Wars promote the myth of redemptive violence?

I believe that the answer is no, and that in actuality Star Wars goes beyond most films in critiquing that very ideology. Take Yoda—he in particular is the prophetic voice who tries to hold the Jedi to a higher moral standard than many of them might prefer. Yoda’s sadness at the start of the Clone Wars is telling—“Victory you say? Not victory. The shroud of the dark side has fallen.” In The Empire Strikes Back, a battle-weary, reflective Yoda teaches Luke the values of a Jedi. “Anger, fear, aggression; the dark side of the Force are they…A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.”

But it’s not just Yoda. Luke, motivated by love for his father, takes this lesson to heart and refuses to kill Darth Vader in the climax of Return of the Jedi. Indeed the very title of Episode VI is apt, for in casting aside his sword, Luke is inaugurating a return of the true Jedi, those who refuse the easy seduction of violence. Contrast the ending of this film with the ending of The Avengers, where the villain’s defeat comes only when the larger, mightier Hulk throws Loki around like a rag doll.

I’m hopeful that the sequel trilogy will continue the anti-militaristic mindset established by Lucas in the first six films. In The Force Awakens, we see even the gunslinger Han Solo turn away from violence, daring to sacrifice himself out of hope for his son’s redemption. To see non-Jedi like Han … exhibit compassion for those whom they would be expected to treat as their enemies helps confirm that the mercy Luke shows Vader in Return of the Jedi is part of a broader theme. …. While its very name suggests that “Star Wars” is all about war, fans and critics who look deeper should see that the saga ultimately helps build a counternarrative to the myth of redemptive violence.

In reading these words nine years later, I’m struck by how much the subsequent Star Wars saga films held to this pattern. Whether you loved Episodes 8 and 9 or hated them, we clearly see more examples of heroes who use non-violent means to defeat their enemies:

• In Episode 8, Rey peacefully surrenders herself to Kylo Ren out of hope for his redemption

• Luke Skywalker faces down Kylo Ren through a non-violent Force projection, merely seeking to distract him long enough to allow the Resistance to escape

• In Episode 9, Leia gives up her life to reach out with the Force to her son one last time, which distracts him and allows Rey to defeat him in battle

• Rey then heals her enemy’s fatal wound, continuing his course to redemption

• Rey doesn’t kill Emperor Palpatine through an aggressive swing of her lightsaber, but through mere defense: she deflects the Emperor’s own lightning bolts back onto himself

I won’t take the time to touch on the other Star Wars media that’s been produced since 2016, but suffice to say that many of that content also critiques the myth of redemptive violence. This sets Star Wars apart from most other action movie franchises. Most American movie storylines nowadays are: “The villain punches the hero, but the hero punches the villain back even harder!” But in Star Wars, we get: “The hero sacrifices himself/herself to help the villain on the path to redemption!” That’s a big, core difference, beneath all the flashy lasers and zooming starships.

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That brings me, as it always does, to Jesus dying on the cross. At first glance, Jesus’ crucifixion seems to be a perfect example of the myth of redemptive violence: it is literally an act of supreme violence, and somehow it’s also an act that redeems us! But like in Star Wars, I think there is more going on here.

Although the term may be unfamiliar to many, most American Christians tend to believe in some form of Penal Substitutionary Atonement (or PSA- an atonement theory that I have critiqued previously). PSA is popular among certain Christians who say: God is so angry and wrathful at humanity’s sin, that he poured out all that anger and wrath in a violent form onto Jesus at the cross. Thus, at the cross there is an act of violence that God the Father perpetrates against God the Son, and it is this violence from the Father that redeems us humans.²³

I don’t think PSA has this quite right. There is an act of violence at the cross, to be sure. But it is sinful humans and the evil powers of this world that perpetrate it, not God! Roman soldiers (with the support of Jewish Temple leaders opposed to Jesus) are the ones who torture and murder Jesus. Salvation from sin comes not from these soldiers, but because Jesus willingly lays down his life for the sake of his enemies-us humans. He does not resist his executioners, and even cries out from the cross, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Thus, rather than being an example of the myth of redemptive violence, I agree with Walter Wink and other theologians who would describe the cross as a counter-narrative⁴ that resists this myth. It isn’t the violence of the executioners that redeems us. It is the sacrificial love of Jesus that redeems, as he willingly lays down his life on our behalf. Yet in a surprise that no one expected, at the cross and in his resurrection Jesus actually rises victorious over his enemies! The violence of his enemies is not the end of the story. Rather, it is through willingly and non-violently suffering this violence that Jesus breaks the chains of sin, death, and the devil.⁵

This has big implications for us who follow Jesus.

If we continue to believe in the myth of redemptive violence, we will be tempted to believe that it is possible for us to achieve good in this world if we just have enough power, or if we can just commit enough violence. After all, that’s how God the Father did it in PSA.

If, however, we instead see Jesus’ death on the cross as a counter-narrative to the myth of redemptive violence, then we can instead choose the way of Jesus, picking up our cross, loving our enemies, and being willing to lay down our lives for others. Instead of believing we need to use violence to do good, we will be those who are willing to suffer violence for the sake of others. The cross is our ultimate example of this, and Star Wars can help us glimpse this truth from another angle.⁶

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1. The phrase “myth of redemptive violence” comes from theologian Walter Wink, as described in this paper. A “myth,” in this usage of the term, is a story that gives us meaning even if it's not literally “true.”

2. Substacker Jay Mallow has a helpful takedown of some of PSA’s other common misunderstanding’s here

3. I recognize this is an over-simplification of PSA, and that more nuanced understandings of PSA exist. But this is the common form that most American Christians are familiar with.

4. When I say “counter-narrative,” I don’t mean that Jesus’ death is just a story. I believe his death and resurrection literally happened in history in Jerusalem in 30 C.E. But I say “narrative” because that event then becomes a template for how Christians are supposed to view all of history and all of life. It’s supposed to be our framing story for how we live, act, and think.

5. Seen in this light, his death would thus fit more under the Christus Victor atonement theory, or perhaps the Scapegoat Theory. See here for a list of common atonement theories.

6. Do you think its too far of a stretch for me to find gospel truth hinted at in Star Wars? I am merely following in a grand Christian tradition—Paul himself quotes from pagan philosophers to support his arguments to the Athenians in Acts 17. All truth is God’s truth, even if it is found in surprising places.