What's so Great about the Greeks?

I just read 300 by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley (colorist). It is a brief exploration of the Greek concept of arete (greatness or virtue, one's full potential realized). From my understanding (read: the few classes I took in college), Greeks prized arete above all else. For them, it was the only way to live on beyond death, through great, noble, heroic deeds or excellence on the field of battle, in athletic competition or in the arts.

In 300, Leonidas, king of Sparta, and his 300 personal guard (with the "help" of the other Greeks) take on Persia's legions, under the rule of Xerxes, self-proclaimed "Lord of Lords (that sure has a ring to it, don't you think. Leonidas, his Spartans and the rest of the Greeks, to be fair, fight a tactically brilliant and ruthless battle, giving no quarter. It is only when they are betrayed by a spurned would-be Spartan warrior that the Persians find a hole in the Greek defenses. The tide of the battle turns, and the Spartans face certain defeat. They fight on with Leonidas leading the charge. He takes one last shot at Xerxes with a javelin and is shot through with innumerable arrows while Xerxes suffers only a slashed cheek. In a "remember-the-alamo"-like sequel, a combined Greek force goes on to defeat the Persians some time later.

From the beginning and to the end, Leonidas is both resigned and accepting of his fate. In a way, he succeeds. He achieves arete.

The samurai, too, had a similar concept, at least from what I understand in talking about Japanese culture with my father-in-law. After their usefulness as warriors receded, they went into professional fields in which they used the same rigor and pursuit of the excellent to guide them.

I don't want to confuse culture with religion here unnecessarily but it seems that Christianity does not have a strong tradition of striving for excellence. Rather, there is an interesting countervailing force that guides us to live for God and for others. There is no room for craft or art in that. The argument could be made that God's commandments don't preclude great actions, but they hardly seem to be the focus. Glory in battle would be about the last thing that would fit in with Christian ideals.

However, look at Christ, the disciples and the tradition of the saints.They take on a certain cast in light of their sacrifices. In the case of Jesus and his disciples, they are known first by their great works. But Jesus becomes who he is meant to be when he is crucified. Why else would we attach such significance to the cross? It is a symbol of his greatness, of his sacrifice and of our salvation, all of it wrapped up in one.

Hagiographies, too, are replete with stories of people willing to die for their faith, though not to kill for it. Saints become what themselves, enter into their sainthood at the point of their embrace of martyrdom, whether they actually die or not. The miracles performed by them are almost like the natural by-product of their faith, like a surplus of their godliness overflowing onto other people and things around them (Elisha's cloak or Jesus's robe).

I wonder, then, if we are to follow the commandments to love God and others that these other things will necessarily happen, that's God's greatness will be with us. And if not, is it because we are not following his word, or is it that some of us are just not to experience "greatness?" Maybe greatness can be small?

In the end, it makes me think of that old philosophical koan: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" If Leonidas died sacrificially for Sparta and no one knew or told his tale, does that diminish the greatness of it? Did Miller consider his own role in enacting and increasing the greatness, the arete, of the Spartans in spreading the story to his readers and now to those who watched the movie? Is there a silent, invisible arete?