After examining the purity of heart exemplified by Brother Diarmuid, I want to take a look at the character who serves as Diarmuid’s most direct foil, Brother Geraldus (left). Geraldus enters the film appearing to be a man of faith. He is a Cistercian monk, an order following the ancient pre-Schism teachings of St. Benedict of Nursia. He also seems to be well educated in the history and workings of the Church. For all this, however, there is a disconnect between his word and his action. He does not display the integrity that the Irish monks embody, especially that of Diarmuid. His fatal flaw seems to be a kind of hubris, and a lack of love for the Other. Geraldus thinks he knows God’s will at all times, that God desires to crush “infidels”, heretics and all who oppose the sociopolitical will of the Catholic Church. More on this later.
Early on in their journey, the monks encounter a brook where Geraldus wishes to draw water. The locals warn him that it contains a fairy fort, and that those who drink the water may be cursed by the fey. Geraldus berates the Irish monks for supporting this “superstition” and performs an on-the-spot exorcism, casting out “demons” from the water in the name of Christ. In the context of humble faithfulness, this could be a positive action. However, it is done with a disdain for the lived experience and wisdom of both the local laity and Geraldus’ traveling companions, the Irish brethren. Furthermore, even at this early stage Geraldus displays his very rigid, fundamentalist understanding of faith. Anything that gets in the way of his goals (in this case, drinking the water to prove a point/prove his superior wisdom/constitution) is an enemy of Christ that must be destroyed. He upholds this militant Christianity to stroke his own ego, rather than praying in true humility and in fellowship with those around him. Later, it turns out that the stream is in fact polluted by the corpse of a dead animal further up stream. Brother Diarmuid offers healing herbs to everyone who drank the water, and the crisis is averted. This scene is not written to an ideal payoff, but there is an implication that Geraldus’ pride almost gets the party seriously ill. The Irish monks, by contrast, trust the inherited wisdom of their community and that all truth is God’s truth.
When the monks make camp with the Normans, Geraldus has a conversation with Brother Ciaran about the intentions of their new benefactors. Ciaran is very wary of partnering with these warriors from the mainland. “Surely, you are under no illusions as to what kind of men these are,” he tells Geraldus. Geraldus’ fundamentalist hubris is unable to see the wisdom in Ciaran’s caution. Indeed, Geraldus goes as far as to offer a kind of clerical blessing on the violence and conquest of the Normans. He tells Ciaran that these men need someone to intercede on their behalf at the Judgment Day, to bless them for the blood they’ve shed. In a sense, he excuses the sin of violence when he believes that it serves the greater purposes of the Church (to drive out pagans and heretics from the British Isles). A healthy theology of grace suggests that the authority entrusted to clergy is an extension of the grace of God which seeks to heal human brokenness and make all things new. Geraldus sanctioning bloodshed is a cheapening of grace, not only in terms of honor, but in terms of purpose. It misunderstands that grace is not merely forgiveness, but light and life which drives out the darkness of sin, violence and hatred. For “God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.” (1 Jn. 1:5).
We’ve already talked in the last section about Geraldus’ priorities when the brothers go to rescue Ciaran. As mentioned before, the sign of God’s power and the church’s authority in the relic is more important to him than the living icon of God, Geraldus’ human brother in faith. This again reveals an interest in the forms and trappings of spirituality without an investment in the true heart of it. It is missing the forest for the trees.
Towards the end of the film, Geraldus’ true nature is revealed. It is discovered that his father was condemned as a heretic, and Geraldus oversaw the preparations to have him burned at the stake. Geraldus shows no remorse for this heinous act throughout the course of the film that remains, saying that he did his duty to God and the church, and that heretics deserve no mercy. To him, God is not interested in love or mercy but in conquest, which is of course a fundamental misunderstanding of Christ who came “not to be served, but to serve” and who offered Himself up for the life of the world, trampling death not by murder but by His own death.
In the end, as mentioned before, Geraldus forces the Mute to shed blood on their behalf. He does not see this as an unfortunate necessity, but delights in it, rambling to Diarmuid about the coming conquest of the Church over the world. He is impressed by power and thinks that God is as well. The deathly nature of pride is illustrated very literally at the end of the film when Geraldus falls into the sea pursuing the relic, the instrument of power which would give him and the church the strength to conquer. Diarmuid, by contrast, values life, and is willing to relinquish all power if it will end the bloodshed that the relic has wrought. Geraldus’ role is a cautionary one, that pride often drives self-righteousness and the judgment of others. Whenever our religion and faith seem to be more focused on externals and the appearance of holiness rather than humility, gentleness and the fruits of the Spirit, we are in a state of spiritual illness. Instead, we should focus on Christ, and on His greatest commandment, to love the Lord our God, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.
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