Ancient Faith, Modern Mythology

Image by Meta AI, and yes, it is meant to be cheesier than macaroni.

I love a good story—especially the kind that unfolds over time with multiple streams of history, complex characters, psychological tension, and moral ambiguity. The best stories don’t just entertain us; they invite us to wrestle with truth, hope, fear, and purpose. I’m also a bit of a nerd, so I particularly enjoy stories set outside our everyday world—ones filled with ancient magic, futuristic technology, or galaxies far, far away.

Yes, I like Star Wars—and no, that should not surprise anyone.
This coming Sunday is May the 4th, affectionately known to fans as Star Wars Day (“May the Fourth be with you!”). And while I’m not going to preach a sermon on lightsabers or Jedi Knights, I do think this is a fitting opportunity to reflect on how stories—especially those told in modern mythologies like Star Wars—can help us better understand our ancient faith.
The power of a story lies in its ability to speak to us on more than one level. George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, was deeply influenced by the work of mythologist Joseph Campbell, who wrote about the “hero’s journey”—a narrative arc found in cultures around the world (The King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable, The Tale of Genji, The Odyssey). At its heart is a simple idea: that the journey of the hero reflects something about the journey of us all. There’s a call to adventure, a wrestling with fear, a confrontation with evil, and—if all goes well—a return home changed and renewed.
Luke Skywalker’s journey isn’t just about fighting the Empire; it’s about discovering who he really is and choosing what kind of person he wants to be. At one point, when Luke hesitates to face Darth Vader again, fearing the darkness within himself, Yoda warns: “If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.”
But of course, we know it’s not that simple. Luke chooses not to give in to hate. He sees the possibility of redemption even in Vader, his fallen father. And in one of the series’ most powerful moments, that redemption comes—not because of power or violence, but because Luke refuses to give up hope, believing redemption is possible even after decades of evil actions.
This theme—of light and darkness in constant tension, of people caught in the middle—is not just good storytelling. It’s also deeply biblical.
Paul writes in Romans 7:15, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” That’s the same kind of internal struggle we see in characters like Luke, Rey, and even Anakin. In Star Wars, as in Scripture, the enemy isn’t just “out there”—it’s also within. The question isn’t whether we’ll face temptation and doubt, but how we’ll respond when we do.
And that brings us back to our faith. Christianity isn’t just a set of doctrines or moral rules. It’s a story—one we’re invited into. It’s the story of a world created in love, broken by sin, and redeemed by grace. It’s a story of flawed heroes, unexpected saviors, and a God who enters the story God’s Self, not as a distant force but as a person named Jesus.
Jesus’ story doesn’t follow the path most heroes take. He doesn’t conquer through power, but through surrender. He doesn’t defeat his enemies with a sword, but with forgiveness. In Star Wars terms, He is both the Jedi who never gives in to hate and the rebel who lays down his life for the sake of others. Like Luke throwing away his saber before the Emperor, refusing to give into the temptation of evil. 
In 2 Corinthians 4:6, Paul says, “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” That light is what we carry into a world that often feels divided between darkness and light, a world of twilight or perhaps of dawn.
Modern myths like Star Wars give us new ways to talk about ancient truths. They help us reflect on our own journey—on what kind of people we’re becoming, on what we’re fighting for, and on what it means to live with hope.
So no, I won’t be preaching in Jedi robes this Sunday (tempting as that may be). But I do think we can learn something from the stories we love—especially when they point us back to the greatest story of all.
May the Force be with you… and more importantly, may the Lord be with you.

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