This piece will likely be a bit shorter than the others, as this character has a smaller role in the film and is out of the movie by about halfway through. Still, I wanted to briefly touch on Baron De Merville, the aging Norman lord, as his particular relationship to faith is sadly all too common. Baron de Merville first appears when the monks are led to the Norman camp. The Baron appears in many ways to be more pious than his son, Raymond (see later in this series). He expresses a genuine desire to see and venerate the relic, and he commissions the monks to offer Mass to his troops before he leads them into battle. Unlike Geraldus, he is less interested in appearing righteous so much as in using the language of faith to give sanction to the power and violence he already commits. Faith becomes a means to the end of legitimizing political power, rather than a means to self-righteousness (as in Geraldus’ case) or an end in itself (Diarmuid and Ciaran).
Geraldus makes it clear that the Baron sees the monks as “sin-eaters,” in a sense, doing the spiritual work to clear the ledger of sin that the Baron and his men accrue in doing violence. In a way, his faith is more orthopraxic than orthodoxic, but not in a way that matters. Faith to the Baron is a series of rituals that legitimize and sanctify his everyday actions, whether those actions be for good or for ill. When they are viewing the relic, the Baron rebukes his son for speaking in a flippant way about the power of the relic, but it seems clear that this is more for the sake of form, as in all his actions, than out of any concern for humility.
The Baron echoes the rich young ruler that Jesus speaks to in the Gospel According to St. Luke (Luke 18:18-30, and in the other Synoptics). When this wealthy man of authority asks Christ what he must do to inherit eternal life, Christ asks him about the Torah and its ethical injunctions. When the ruler insists he has done these things, Christ gives him a stronger commandment: not merely to perform some religious ritual, but to actively divest from the wealth and authority he has been given. Jesus makes it clear that the way of discipleship involves sacrifice and the giving up of temporal power for the sake of love, humility and faithfulness to God. Baron de Merville, like the rich young ruler, is interested in discipleship only to the extent that it benefits him. Were he forced to consider what truly following the Prince of Peace would require, he would likely choose to retain his power at the cost of violence and subjugation rather than relinquish it to lose power but gain his soul.
All judgment aside, this mentality exists to varying degrees across human society. It seems most entrenched among the rich and powerful, and this makes sense. Those who have the most to lose in terms of worldly agency/puissance from following Jesus are often the most reluctant, while the lowly have little to lose and everything to gain from a God who imbues them with dignity, synergistic authority, community and grace. “Blessed are the poor,” not only because God’s love is especially for the poor and the marginalized (though this is certainly true), but because the poor are not as easily caught up in the desire for self-interest that the rich fall prey to. As mentioned though, this mentality can affect anyone. Whenever we seek our own well-being at the cost of another, whenever we decide to do the easy thing rather than the right thing, we risk losing touch with God and with one another. The Baron serves as a warning to those in power and authority, but also to everyone, to keep one’s sight on what is truly important. To remember that no earthly power is worth the cost of human dignity, life, or divine communion.
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