Why Do We Love Redemption Stories?

Redemption stories are blowing up the American box office. Thunderbolts*—a story about the MCU’s villains, assassins, killers, and jerks turning their lives around to become legitimate heroes—is one of the most universally acclaimed Marvel movies in a long time. The film has been #1 at the box office for two straight weekends. Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, which is about two on-the-run gangsters trying to give back to their community, continues to break box-office records. And Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith—a film about the fall of Anakin Skywalker, who eventually finds redemption—was re-released in April and became one of the highest-grossing re-releases of all time. 

But this isn’t a new phenomenon. Redemptive stories have long been a fixture of popular culture. Marvel’s Iron Man, Avatar: The Last Airbender’s Zuko, and Harry Potter’s Snape all experience a redemptive character arc. Stories about bad people (sometimes outright evil people) who become heroes are everywhere. Literature is filled with characters who experience redemption, including Jean Valjean in Les Misérables and Ebeneezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, a story so powerful it prompts frequent remakes and annual rewatches.  

Why are heroes who find redemption so appealing?  

One big reason is because we relate to them. We understand that we are also bad in many ways, and these stories give us hope that we can become better. As Nathan Clarkson writes for Patheos Column,  

“Suddenly, in the throes of adult life, I began finding that image of myself as Superman drifting from my grasp as I dealt with my own weakness brought on by severe mental illness, the consequences of my own destructive choices, and the onslaught of devastating circumstances beyond my control. In just a few years, the belief that I could be Superman was shattered as I discovered that the world was a far more broken place than I had expected, and I was a far weaker person than I ever wanted to admit.” 

The Bible teaches that we are all deeply flawed. Paul says in Romans 3:23 (NIV), “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”  The Bible portrays its heroes as broken people and focuses a lot on their flaws, from Abraham (who fails to trust God) to Moses (who kills a man and runs away) to David (who kills a loyal friend to cover up the fact that he got his wife pregnant) to Peter (who denies Jesus), and so on. And yet, as Hebrews 11 tells us, these people are still talked about as heroes of the faith. The Bible teaches that being a broken and flawed person is not incompatible with being a hero. In fact, it’s normal.  

We also love redemption stories for a related but opposite reason. Just as God redeems us while we’re still sinners because he loves us (Romans 5:8), we often want to see characters redeemed not just because we identify with them but because we love them. There is a joke circulating online that we typically root for the hot characters to get redemptive arcs. You don’t see many people writing fanfiction about Peter Pettigrew finding redemption. The focus is instead on characters like Loki, Catwoman, or Draco Malfoy. While that is easy to laugh about, it points to the Christian truth that we desire to see those we love redeemed.  

Not everything about modern redemption stories ties in perfectly to Christianity. The Bible teaches that we are redeemed from sin by accepting Christ, not ourselves. Paul is overwhelmingly and poetically clear when he expresses his—and our—inability to save ourselves from our weaknesses in Romans 7:15-25 (NIV): 

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. 

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” 

In contemporary hero tales, the heroes often find redemption through their own works. There is typically some evil threat that requires them to save the day. When they do, people praise them as heroes. They prove themselves and then they are accepted. In Christianity, we are accepted first and then given the ability to change. Sometimes other characters give villains the chance to be a hero, but these opportunities are typically driven by necessity rather than love. Mobius gives Loki a shot at redemption because he needs him to catch another Loki. Megamind has the opportunity to be a hero because a new villain (that he accidentally created) is now a threat to the city. 

In this sense, part of the appeal is that we can find redemption without a savior. In real life, redemption typically comes at the price of humility, because we don’t earn it. And most of us would like to earn it.  

But there are exceptions to the “save yourself” version of redemption stories. Yelana’s desire to help Bob comes long before she needs to stop him from killing everyone. Luke Skywalker’s yearning to save Darth Vader is motivated by Skywalker’s love for his father. And Uncle Iroh loves and accepts Zuko long before he “redeems” himself and gives him perspective to help him.  

The first step toward redemption is recognizing that we require it. In a world that so desperately needs a savior, it’s good to see that the stories we tell reveal that—despite what we say—most of us are deeply aware of that fact.