A Tale of Two Cities and the Greater Story of Sacrifice
*Quick disclaimer - if you haven’t read A Tale of Two Cities and are planning to, just know that this post contains spoilers. Read on at your own risk!
I began writing this post last week sometime, and was devastated to come up to the computer and find all my work deleted. However, as I’ve thought about it, I realized Memorial Day weekend is actually the perfect time to post this. Why? Because in reading A Tale of Two Cities, I was caught completely off guard by the willing self-sacrifice highlighted by the novel. And Memorial Day is really about the same - remembering and honoring the sacrifices of our soldiers, both past and present, to secure for us a better life.
It’s always struck me how much our society values self-sacrifice - it is lauded as one of the most noble acts a person could perform. Even in a society that is drifting further and further away from Christian values and ideals, there are hints of this “greater love” the Bible speaks of in John 15:13. You can see it everywhere in our culture - in celebrations like Memorial Day, in children’s stories like Narnia, even in pop-culture phenomenons such as Avengers: Endgame - we are drawn to stories of willing and unmerited sacrifice. Why is this?
I don’t believe it is by accident that we are so focused on these stories. It is a strange phenomenon. It directly contradicts the cut-throat, survival-of-the-fittest mentality that our culture praises. And yet, we are fascinated with the idea of the “noble self-sacrifice.” Romans 1:20 says this: “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” I believe that God leaves clues about Himself and His nature that even unbelievers notice and are drawn to. And these gospel whispers - these faint shadows of Jesus’s sacrifice that litter our stories - are one of them. Our obsession with self-sacrifice is meant to point us to the Greatest Sacrifice - that of Jesus Christ for our sins.
Now, in picking up A Tale of Two Cities, I did not expect to find one of these gospel whispers hidden amongst its pages. My only expectation was to expand my list of classics and to enjoy Dickens’s rich writing style. Never have I been happier to be wrong.
A Tale of Two Cities is a simple story, really - it follows the triumphs and tradgedies of a small family, set against the scarlet backdrop of the French Revolution. The book’s greatest asset is its characters, as is often the case with Dickens. From page one, the characters lay themselves down for one another, in small, trivial ways that become a prelude to the ultimate sacrifice at the end of the novel. All give up something different, but each has a unique lesson to teach us about the nature of sacrifice.
The novel opens with Mr. Lorry, a “man of business” and friend of the Manette family. He is traveling a great distance in order to “recall to life” a former friend. Now, Mr. Lorry loves little more than he loves his bank, Telson’s. And yet, for one unfortunate man and his family, he is willing to give up hours that could have been spent furthering his career to help reunite a father with his daughter. Mr. Lorry finds Lucie Manette, and the two set out to rescue her father from the Bastille.
Lucie is one of the novel’s greatest examples of sacrifice. Quiet, golden-haired, and angelic, Lucie could have her pick of men - she could live well-taken care of and wealthy - and yet, when she finds her father in the Bastille, trapped in madness, she doesn’t hesitate to nurse him back to health. Lucie lays down her youth and freedom in order to heal the father who was absent most of her life. She becomes the one steadying voice to lead him out of his past darkness and into the light.
Eventually, Lucie is happily married to Charles Darnay, a former French aristocrat who escaped to England, disgusted by the excess of the aristocracy. And here, Sydney Carton enters the picture - like Darnay in every way, even appearance, except that he is a drunk who has wasted his life, rather than successful and well-liked. The two have a rocky relationship as they both love Lucie Manette. And yet, Carton is willing to give Lucie up to secure her happiness - even if it means watching her marry a man he hates.
As the Revolution is escalating in France, Darnay recieves a letter from a former servant, pleading to be rescued from the mob. Darnay rushes to his aid, with little thought to his own safety. He is captured and tried by the angry mob, who sentence him to death for his connection with the aristocracy. The rest of the Manettes, along with Mr. Lorry and Sydney Carton hurry to France to stop his execution. Dr. Mannette, as a fellow-sufferer under the Crown, gains some ground with the revolutionaries - however, they still resolve to execute Darnay, and Dr. Manette’s sanity is lost once again from the stress and tension of it all.
Finally, from the most unlikely character, the novel reaches its climax. Sydney, taking advantage of he and Darnay’s similarities, frees Darnay from prison and takes his place. In his final moments, he realizes something - that there is no better act than laying down one’s life for another. As he is executed, he has a sort of vision into the future - one where Lucie and Darnay live happy and safe, and their family line continues for generations. In giving his life, Sydney secured the lives of many others - a knowledge that gives him peace in his final moments.
Sydney Carton is believed to be a Christ-figure, which in literature means a character that is used to represent Jesus, in some form or fashion. Usually, the character sacrifices themselves for the greater good and for the well-being of others. Sydney Carton is just one example of this, but his death was one of the most poignant I have read.
Now, these Christ-figures are not meant to be perfect representations of Christ - far from it. They are simply meant to point us to the Bible, the Greatest Story ever told.
They do, however, have an important lesson to teach us about self-sacrifice, which is good to reflect on this Memorial Day: that “laying down one’s life” can come in many forms. Oftentimes, it looks more like prizing others’ needs and wants above your own - in dying to yourself and living for others - than actually facing a guillotine for someone. It looks like pouring yourself out - in living a life where you don’t ever stop loving others, no matter the cost to yourself - being “poured out, used up, still giving” (as TobyMac puts it in his song, “This is What Love Looks Like”).
And ultimately, they point us to Christ, who poured himself out so that we could live - the Greatest Story of Sacrifice.
As we reflect this Memorial Day, remember Jesus’s love for you - love so great, that it drove Him to the cross to lay down His life. Pray for His grace to help you lay down your life for others, however that may look where you’re at. As we grow closer to Christ and begin thinking of ourselves less and others more - as we experience the life-giving joy that comes in giving life away - we can learn the truth behind Carton’s last words: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done” (Dickens).
John 15:13 - “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”