Now they are fallen heroes, and they are bad.

While the charges against either man have not been demonstrated in a court of law, the case seems overwhelming. The evidence is in and it is damning.

Armstrong was the all-American hero. Steel of jaw and piercing of gaze, his fight against cancer and extraordinary run of victories in the Tour de France propelled him into the very elite of global sporting stars. Saville was much more in the British mould – an astute mind and business acumen disguised behind a bumbling persona; as his obituary in The Telegraph concluded, “he was simply an odd chap.”

For years Armstrong has contested allegations of doping, and has been able to point to the scores of tests he took, all of which proved negative. Now it appears that this was not because he was innocent, but because he was clever. Saville was also dogged by suspicion, but he, too, managed to sidestep it. As the Telegraph obit put it (rather chillingly, in the light of what we now know), “Rumours of under-age sex circulated for some years, although the fact that no allegations of impropriety ever appeared in print seemed to confirm Savile’s own insistence that he had “no past, no nothing”.”

That the actions of these two men should so dominate the news agenda is evidence of how important heroes are to us. We have a need for heroes – people who seem like us, but different, and achieve greatness to which we might aspire though never obtain. When a hero falls there is a mighty crash.

A lot is being said about Saville and Armstrong, but from a theological perspective perhaps it worth adding that while we may be shocked by the allegations, they should not surprise us. Saville and Armstrong are men, and therefore they are sinners, and sinners sin. What else would we expect?

It is easy to point the finger of accusation, but faced with opportunities and temptations of a similar scale, how many others of us would not sin on a similar scale? Our heroes’ sin bigger than us, because they are bigger than us; but we all sin.

I am currently engaged in the joy-filled challenge of preaching through Hebrews. The other Sunday I preached a message titled “Just Like Us”.  The thrust of this sermon was that whenever we get close to a hero we inevitably discover that they are just like us – yes, they may be more gifted, but just like us they have human foibles, weaknesses and flaws. But there is one man who is just like us, only perfect. “He had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.” (Heb 2:17)

There is one hero who is just like us but will never come crashing down. Rather than being subject to sin, Jesus has triumphed over it, and in his perfection atoned for the sins of his people in order that we may share in his perfections.

Because we have this hero we need not be shattered by the falling of our earthly heroes. Also, we need not slip into the hypocritical error of bewailing the sins of our heroes while failing to acknowledge our own sin. Instead, we can look to the one who is just like us, but perfect, and in him find the answer to our sins and the sin of the world.

What a savior. What a hero!