I often think that if we, as a twenty-first-century society, ought to be more familiar with the literature of the past, in order to get a better sense of the psychological breadth that humankind contains. While we now have a much better grasp of some of the nuances of the psychological spectrum, our public discourse is often framed by axioms that are too general to capture the variety of human individuals - even though we are living through an age marked by unparalleled individualism. For instance, the idea often attributed to the stereotypical economist, that a person would not do something that was not in their own best interest, makes it difficult to understand how things have developed the way they have for the past ten years or so. Moreover, the ideals touted by the more optimistic types, such as how people will step up in a time of crisis or other variations on that theme, have been severely challenged by the blatant and overt willingness of so many actors to serve those who happen to be in power. In the case of those who take up the yoke offered by authoritarian powers, this is often explained as being driven by economic gain. After all, it is more financially profitable to serve the powerful, however morally ruinous it is.
However, I find myself unconvinced that economic profit is always the best explanation for why people flock to the powerful. It might be true of the broad majority of such people, but I also believe that a significant number of those who become willing servants of authoritarian powers do so for other motives than just financial gain. This is where medieval literature comes in handy. In particular, I think the legend of Saint Christopher is particularly useful.
In the Latin Middle Ages, Saint Christopher gained prominence in the thirteenth century, especially following the compilation of the Legenda Aurea by Jacobus de Voragine, which became widely disseminated - including in vernacular translations - from the last quarter of the century onwards. According to this version of the legend, Saint Christopher - originally named Reprobus before his conversion to Christianity - set out to serve the most powerful king. This ambition brings him into the service of a Canaanite king, but at court Christopher learns about the Devil. When witnessing how the mere mention of the Devil makes the king cross himself, Christopher sets out to serve the Devil instead, since he is so much more powerful. After entering into the service of the Devil, however, Cristopher learns that the Devil is afraid of Christ, and so he sets off on a new quest. Instructed by a hermit, Christopher settled by a river to carry travellers across, since such a task would fit the commands of Christ. One day, he carried Christ in the shape of a child across the river, and by this act - which became a popular motif in Latin medieval art - Christopher gained his new name (since Christoforos means Christ-bearer in Greek).
While I am convinced that Saint Christopher never existed, historical existence is never a requirement for providing valuable lessons. The most important detail in this legend is that Christopher set out to serve, but to serve the most powerful. The reason for this desire is not expressed in the version found in Legenda Aurea, but the desire itself is identified clearly and matter-of-factly. And this is the lesson that I wish we would remember better in our own time, namely that some people are very eager to serve. In some cases, this eagerness is directed towards positive means of service, such as caring for those who need it, or engaging with your local community. But the desire to serve can also be perverted and have power as its lodestone, and there are indeed those who choose their masters simply because they admire and venerate power, no matter the configuration and consequences of that power. Saint Christopher - while he was still Reprobus - provides a clear example of this kind of service, and while we are allowed to doubt the reality of Christopher's story, its relevance for our own time, and its psychological depth, should be clearly acknowledged.
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