True Heroism is True Love

I previously wrote about how Disney’s Hercules parallels the story of humanity’s fall and Christ’s Incarnation. In this essay, I will focus on a key aspect of this story: the rescue of the incarnate god’s beloved.
 
In the love story between Hercules and Meg, I see analogues of Christ and His bride, the Church. In Meg’s sacrifice, I see the experience of martyrs who give their lives up for God. And eventually, Hercules demonstrates his most Christological traits in the choices he makes concerning his relationship with Meg. Each of them, individually and as a couple, demonstrate the true meaning of love, and the true meaning of heroism.
 
 
A Lack of Love
 
Fairly early in the film, a problem and solution are presented to Hercules: to regain his stolen immortality and return to Olympus, he must become a “true hero.” But he does not fully grasp what this means.
 
After a career that seems abundantly successful by earthly standards, Hercules thinks he has more than achieved his goal; but his father, Zeus, regretfully informs him that he is not yet a “true hero.” Hercules is stunned and frustrated. By now, he has performed many great deeds, which presumably saved many people. Why, then, does he still not qualify as a “true hero”?
 
The answer, in my view, is that he is not yet doing the right thing for the right reasons. He strives to become a hero as a means to an end—a good but ultimately selfish end, for his own benefit rather than the gods’ or the people’s. He even expresses joy at hearing about an emergency, because such disasters give him the opportunity to gain glory. He is not motivated by selflessness, altruism or compassion—in a word, love.
 
Hercules has great supernatural gifts, but he does not have the disposition of a “true hero” because he lacks love. He is a perfect illustration of what St. Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13:1-3:
 
If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. (NIV)
 
Zeus puts it another way at the end of the film: “A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart.” What matters is not Hercules’ abilities, but his capacity for love. It is not the number or magnitude of his deeds, but the love with which he does them that will determine his fate.
 
 
Meg as Humanity
 
Meg is an enigmatic figure, blending the archetypes of damsel in distress, femme fatale, and repentant sinner. It is established early on that while she works for evil forces, she derives no pleasure from doing so. It turns out, she has no freedom; she is, in essence, enslaved to sin.
 
The prophets of the Old Testament often use imagery of adultery or prostitution to describe the nation of Israel’s idolatry and dependence on other nations rather than God. This causes Israel’s ruin because her “lovers,” the other nations, turn against her and attack her. Something similar happened in Meg’s past: she sold her soul to Hades in order to save her boyfriend’s life, only for him to leave her for another woman. Like Israel and the surrounding nations, or any individual and their idols, Meg loved the wrong thing, and it forsook her and left her to suffer.
 
After this betrayal, Meg loses her faith in true love and human goodness. Contrasting with Hercules’ optimism, she cynically says that all people are “petty and dishonest,” while gazing at her own reflection. She clearly includes herself in this category, as, at that moment, she is deceiving Hercules while trying to seduce him into revealing his weakness.
 
Meg’s professed opinion that “Sometimes it’s better to be alone [because] no one can hurt you” reveals a profound truth: love means making yourself vulnerable to being hurt, even by the ones you love. Christ loved us so much that He became a vulnerable human being and underwent the most painful torture imaginable, suffering at the hands of the very people He loved and wanted to save.
 
But, as Meg herself comes to understand, it is not better to be alone. She is moved by Hercules’ innate goodness and genuine care for her. A similar thing takes place when a person discovers the love of Christ. As 1 John 4:19 says, “We love because he first loved us.” While it can be hard to trust after being hurt, this love does not disappoint. After an internal struggle, vocalized in the song “I Won’t Say (I’m In Love),” Meg opens herself to Hercules’ love, and allows herself to reciprocate it. She then chooses to act on it by refusing to cooperate in Hades’ plot against Hercules, even though this means giving up her chance to be free again.
 
 
Dying to Self
 
At the Last Supper, Jesus taught His disciples, “No one has greater love than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends” (John 15:13 NIV). He then set the example for them through his own death. Hercules and Meg each demonstrate the same selfless love as they make sacrifices to save the other, even to the point of death.
 
When Hades holds Meg hostage, Hercules gives up his godlike strength as ransom for her freedom, literally redeeming her from her chains. Sapped of his divine power, Hercules becomes as physically weak as any other human being. Hades then strikes an emotional blow by revealing Meg’s previous deception—a strong parallel to Delilah’s betrayal of Samson, which led to him losing his strength. Even when brought to his lowest point, Hercules still acts selflessly by giving himself up to the Cyclops, who is terrorizing up the city while search for him. The monster publicly humiliates him and batters him around the city, not unlike the torture and mockery of the soldiers toward Christ after his arrest.
 
The tide turns when Meg pushes Hercules out of the way of a falling column, and is crushed in his stead. When Hercules asks why she did that, she answers, “People always do crazy things when they’re in love.” She understands, and teaches Hercules, the radical nature of authentic, self-giving love. While a case could be made that Meg is another Christ figure, I rather think she is like a Christian martyr, who enters into the Paschal Mystery in a special way and becomes both an imitator and a bride of Christ.
 
Like Christ on Good Friday, Hercules must participate in a cosmic battle against his enemy. With his strength restored by Meg’s sacrifice, he is able to rescue the gods on Mount Olympus from Hades and the invading Titans. But it is not enough to drive the monsters out of paradise: Hercules still needs to rescue his beloved from death.
 
When he returns to Earth, he finds that Meg has died. Like an inverted Pieta, he cradles her body in his arms as he grieves. But then, unwilling to let death have the final word, Hercules makes the journey to the underworld--katabasis in Greek mythology, the Harrowing of Hell in the Christian salvation story. He offers to trade his life for Meg’s, a deal that Hades eagerly accepts.
 
But the deal backfires on the ruler of the underworld: by sacrificing his life to save another, Hercules demonstrates true heroism, and so regains his immortality. He retrieves Meg’s soul and brings her back to the land of the living—and for good measure, he pushes Hades into the river of dead souls, killing the personification of death.

 
Vocation to Love
 
Looking at Hercules as an analogue for human beings, as my previous essay did, he can also be viewed as a martyr figure. He is only able to achieve his goal of returning to Olympus after an act of selfless surrender. He finds his greatest strength and gains eternal life when he lays down his life for the one he loves. Having each surrendered their life for the other’s sake, they are able to live together as husband and wife.
 
Hercules and Meg both choose the path of sacrificial love, which brings them to the gates of Olympus. The pantheon of gods, like the heavenly host of angels, welcomes them with joy and honor.
 
At this point, once again, there are some key differences between this story and the story of salvation, though the parallels are still strong.
 
When faced with the choice between being with his parents forever and being with Meg for one lifetime, Hercules chooses the latter. But Christ did not have to choose between being with His heavenly Father and being with His earthly bride (whether that bride is identified as Israel, or the Church, or all humanity). Because of the Paschal Mystery, the gates of Heaven were opened for the beloved, and the souls in purgatory were allowed to follow Christ to the Beatific Vision. Parent and child, bride and groom are all united in love.
 
Despite these differences, Hercules still imparts an invaluable lesson: love is not merely a means to an end; it is the end. Our home—our destination—is not just a place, but a relationship. The place where Hercules belongs—the way he can live out his vocation—is with the people he loves. With Meg in his life, along with his friends and his adoptive parents, Hercules finally understands the purpose of every human being: to love and to be loved.
 
For more of my analysis, listen to the Hercules episode of my podcast