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CW/TW: Mentions of blood/gore
In this piece I hope to touch on the final monastic character I intend to talk about in this series. (There is one other named monk, Brother Cathal, but he has very few lines and as such doesn’t leave enough of an impression for me to feel like I have much to say about him).
Brother Ciaran, the abbot of the monastery, is truly an abbot in the ancient sense of the word. The word Abbot comes to English from Latin and Greek, who borrowed it from Aramaic. The Aramaic word “Abba” roughly means “my father”. In the early days of monasticism, holy men (and women, who were called “Amma” (my mother)) fled civilization to cultivate a life with God in the wilderness. Gradually, these hermits were sought out by faithful laity, many of whom became monks in association with them. And thus a movement was born. These Abbas were often known for giving a word of wisdom for their students to ponder in hopes that it would lead them closer to God.
Brother Ciaran, existing many centuries after the mold of the Desert Fathers and Mothers, nevertheless is a strong example of this archetype. Like St. Antony, the founder of monasticism, he left a well-traveled life to serve God in stillness and simplicity. It is implied early on in the film that Ciaran has traveled across the known world, and may have even participated in the Crusades. Shunning glory and worldly authority, Ciaran becomes a shining example of monastic devotion and communion with God. When the Normans question him on his travels, it seems clear that Ciaran doesn’t want to talk about it. He has, in a sense, died to his old self and put on the new life in Christ. Diarmuid exemplifies integrity and purity of heart, but there is a sense in which it is easier for him because he has known nothing different. Ciaran, on the other hand, has followed the example of the apostles, to leave everything and follow Christ.
This life of prayer and holy community manifests its fruits in the way Ciaran approaches power, violence, and war, and peace. Ciaran rebukes Geraldus for being so naive and out of touch as to believe that allying with the Normans will bring anything but death and destruction to their faith and their community. Geraldus wants to use empire as a weapon of faith, but Ciaran is part of “an army that sheds no blood” (St. Clement of Alexandria). The death to self that is core to the monastic and Christian life also means a death to the ego which believes that those outside the faith are obstacles to be destroyed rather than people to be loved.
When Diarmuid asks Ciaran if there was ever peace in the Irish lands, Ciaran responds “not since the Fall.” Rather than leave Diarmuid in despair, though, he offers “a word” that is both a comfort and a challenge. (Note: I’m paraphrasing). “Peace takes time to grow. It must be cared for. And there are not many men in these times willing to care for it.”
When the brigands have captured Ciaran at the behest of the Normans, the young lord Raymond de Merville tortures Ciaran with the intent of getting him to tell them where the relic has been taken. Ciaran refuses, but says no word of hatred or rebuke towards Raymond. Even when his guts are being torn out by a Crusader torture device, he repeats only prayers of forgiveness for himself and his killer, and he invokes the name of Jesus. This can speak to a number of facets of faith. First, there is the true meaning of martyrdom. Ciaran is not seeking to die. He is not a Crusader, looking for reward for killing “infidels” or dying in battle. This ideal of “martyrdom” is clearly exposed as the falsehood that it is, in that all the Crusader characters except for the Mute (who we’ll get to later) display nothing but contempt for gentleness, love, humility, true piety and all the things that the Irish monks seek. But Ciaran witnesses to his faith by not betraying the relic into the hands of those who would seek to abuse it. Ultimately, his silence is not about the relic itself. It is about one kind of faith versus another. Ciaran will not allow the Normans to twist the message of Christ into one of war and conquest, whether physical or spiritual. And so he commits to silence, even at the cost of his own life. As he dies, he exemplifies the spirit of the monastic lifestyle: praying for the forgiveness of all, and having the name and presence of Christ constantly on one’s lips and in one’s heart. The fact that he can do this while being literally disemboweled is a testament to how God dwells within him and has transformed Ciaran from the image of God into the likeness of God.
This brings us to a small note on the nature of nonviolence. To justify or condemn nonviolence wholeheartedly in all cases is beyond the scope of this essay. It’s also worth noting that Ciaran, being tied to a post, is not really in a position to fight his captor. However, it is true to the monastic way of life to shed no blood, and I would argue that this film makes a strong case that nonviolence is integral to all Christian life. The characters who are sympathetic and relatable are those who shun violence wherever possible, and the ones who are hypocritical and unsympathetic are generally those who idolize violence. This is a filmmaking decision, but I do think it speaks to the truth that nonviolence is a Christian value, one which has been too often neglected in our society. There are, of course, different approaches to nonviolence. Diarmuid, a young monastic tasked with caring for the relic on its journey, mostly stays out of fights but occasionally will use nonlethal force in self defense. Ciaran takes up a course of absolute nonviolence throughout the film, and sees in this perhaps a small way of witnessing to the absurdity and injustice of the violence around him. Neither are wrong, and the approach varies based on one’s station in life and responsibilities. But nonviolence is clearly depicted as a value to strive towards, with the ultimate example being Christ, who forgave His enemies even on the cross. Not everyone is called to the same method of resistance, which is why it is valuable to analyze the different archetypes of faith in this and other films (some positive, some negative) and consider how they may be useful for application in daily life. Regardless, Ciaran does embody well the tradition of Desert spirituality and the core of monasticism, to cut off all ties to “the sin that so easily entangles” (Hebrews 12:1) and live simply, in harmony with God and all creation.
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