Invictus (2)

(For those who have not read my last blog)
This poem by W.E. Henley, has become prominent because of the film of the same name. The film is about Nelson Mandela and South Africa's victory in the rugby world cup of 1995. The poem was a great influence on Mandela in his years in prison.

It reads as follows:

'Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my uncoquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul'.

Not only Mandela, but Prime Minister Gordon Brown and Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma City bomber of 1997 (executed in 2001) have professed to find inspiration from Henley's words, written by him at the age of 26 after losing a leg by amputation.

One can see why it inspires, though there is really something preposterous about it. Is it human, superhuman or sub-human to boast of not wincing or crying aloud in the face of tragedy? Is it virtuous or plain insensitive to be found 'unafraid' at the prospect of death? Is the man a hero or a block of wood?

Does the idea that an unconquerable soul should originate in some god or gods unknown and uninvolved, stand up for a moment? Clearly these deist gods have allowed the soul complete autonomy and have no more part to play in its 'fate'.

As I have pointed out before it is of course quite unable to give any moral guidance - a mass murderer and a national hero may both claim to have been inspired by it. It tweeks the will and the emotions, not the conscience or even the intellect.

'Invictus' means 'unconquered'. As such it is evocative for the Christian, who worships one who is unconquered. The Lord Jesus Christ experienced a night that covered him, 'Black as the Pit'; the bludgeonings he suffered, the bloody head and the place of wrath and tears and the 'Horror of the shade' were all too real. The scroll for him was charged with punishments more than we could bear, for he was bearing the punishments due to the sin of his people. The menace he faced was not of 'the years', nor of circumstance nor of chance but of his Father's wrath against sin.

How did he face it? Not entirely unafraid, nor yet unbowed, certainly not cavalierly facing whatever may come to him without wincing, crying aloud or without indeed immense trepidation. The Son of God knew what was to come, and feared it, and when it came he felt it. No block of wood, the eternal Son was neither superhuman nor sub-human but truly human. He truly was the master of his fate and the captain of his soul; only he could lay down his life and take it up again; only he could give up his spirit and not have it taken involuntarily from him. But his mastery and captaincy over his soul led him to lay it down in pure loving servanthood, for wretches like you and me. And it hurt him beyond mortal telling.

Yet God raised him from the dead because it was impossible for death to hold him.

How bleak and weak does Henley's bravado sound in the light of the cross.

Moreover, for those, too, who by grace have come to love and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, there is the promise of being 'invictus', indeed 'more than conquerors' through him who loved us. What a glorious invincibility this is which does not strut and posture in the face of Fate, but trusts a Father who is sovereign to order all things for the good of his own. Our confidence is not in our unconquerable souls but in the one who is unconquerable for us, and in his grasp of us and love for us.