The Lord of the Kingdom

(The following is a replication of a page describing one of the people groups in Middle-earth, the Númenoreans. Each of the groups or individuals listed in the Sidebar {”Peoples”} has or will have a link to a page providing more information for that particular heading.)

The short answer is that Númenoreans are those survivors from Númenor who came to Middle-earth following the destruction of the island Kingdom. Númenor was Tolkien’s Atlantis mythology: both sank into the sea.

The long answer is again provided by Tyler:

Númenor [was] the greatest realm of the world in the Second Age, apart from the Undying Lands. Founded by the Edain, at the very beginning of the Age, for three thousand years this land continued to grow in both power and splendour until ultimately, the vaulting ambitions of the Númenoreans caused them to commit the most appalling act of sacrilege. As a punishment, the island-realm was thrown down and buried under the waves, with only a chosen few of the Faithful surviving to start afresh in Middle-earth . . .

“[A] number of the Faithful escaped this downfall and, led by Elendil the Tall, sailed to Middle-earth to found the Númenorean realms-in-exile: Arnor and Gondor . . .

“The Realms in Exile, although less imperial and magnificent than ancient Númenor, were thus no whit less royal; for many years both North- and South-kingdoms flourished in Middle-earth, before they were gradually diminished in various ways. Yet even at the end of the Third Age much still survived in Middle-earth of the last remnant of Númenor, originally founded - with the full blessing of the Valar - nearly two full Ages before.”

This somewhat begs the question, however, for it remains to be explained what set this particular group of men apart from other men, who were also the Atani, the ‘Second People,’ the second-born Children of Ilúvatar. This requires some background on the creation and origins of Men in general, also provided by Tyler:

[Men are,] after the Elves, the noblest of all ’speaking-peoples’; for whom the Gift of Mortality was expressly conceived as an alternative for life everlasting (the fate of the Elves) . . .

“[Following the awakening of the Elves] at last the Second People awoke, in the land of Hildórien in the wide East. For centuries they wandered gradually away from their birth-place, in all directions save north; and at last the westerly vanguard came first into Wilderland, and then into Eriador, and finally into Beleriand. These were the Edain (the Sindarin form of the more ancient Quenya name Atani). Originally the term [Edain]had been applied to the race of Men as a whole, but everafter the Elves of Beleriand used it specifically for the Three Houses of the Elf-friends who fought alongside them in their wars against Morgoth, and who dwelt with them in allied kingdoms . . . their providential contact with the Elves at such a crucial stage in their development singled out this people from all other Mannish races for elevation. Consequently, their direct descendants, the Dúnedain, eventually came to deem themselves a ‘High People’ - in comparison with other Men, whom they divided into ‘Middle’ and ‘Wild’ Peoples.

“The ‘Middle Peoples’ shared the same origins and earliest histories as the ‘High People’, but their development was largely unaided by Elven-lore or fortuitous circumstance. For the ancestors of the Middle People were those of the Edain and their close kin who did not pass west to Númenor after the end of the First Age, remaining instead in Middle-earth where they elevated their culture at a far slower rate. However, they greatly increased in number and, by the end of the Second Age, their descendants were far more numerous than those of the Dúnedain who had returned meanwhile to Middle-earth . . .

“One may note close parallels with the ‘High’ and ‘Middle’ Elves, i.e., the Noldor and the Sindar, likewise separated at an early point in their history but later reunited under circumstances both grievous and uplifting . . .

“So, while the cultural differences among the Mannish peoples were (and still are) immense, ultimately, they were (and are) cancelled out by the great factors in common, most notably Free Will, the gift of all Free Peoples, and the possession of immortal souls tempered by Mortality: the Gift of Men.”

From The Complete Tolkien Companion by J.E.A. Tyler

The similarity between the name “Númenoreans” and the term “numinous” is hardly accidental. Duriez discusses the importance of the numinous in Tolkien’s writings:

[Numinous] is a term created by the German Lutheran theologian Rudolf Otto (1869-1937). He was concerned to isolate the universal element in human experience that is religious. He rejected the attempts to explain away such experience by materialistic theories . . . The numinous experience involves a sense of dependence upon what stands wholly other to humanity. This otherness (or other-worldliness) is unapproachable and awesome. At the same time it has a fascination and attraction. Rudolf Otto believed that Christianity has the clearest concept of the numinous.

“Whatever the rights and wrongs of Otto’s analysis, the implication is that the experience of the numinous is captured better by suggestion and allusion than by a theoretical analysis . . .

“Much of the numinous in Tolkien is the effect of his linguistic creativity . . . His use of Elvish names, words and phrases, which are beautiful and yet foreign, often invokes a numinous quality, similarly his employment of Runes . . .

“Tolkien has great ability in capturing the numinous through the symbolic . . . whether in landscape (as in Doriath or Lórien) or the natural elements . . .

“The numinous is embodied most of all, in Tolkien’s work, in his idea of faerie . . . an other world in which it is possible for beings such as elves to live and move and have a history . . . Some of his elves (like Lúthien or Galadriel) are incarnations of the numinous.

“Where the numinous is capture, its appeal is firstly to the imagination, which also senses it most accurately. It belongs to the area of meaning rather than concept.”

From Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings, by Colin Duriez.

Númenoreans, therefore, more than any other race of Men, are more spiritually- minded. In this sense, they have more in common with the Elves than with other races of Men.

Boromir, the ill-fated Captain of Gondor, was valiant and passionate. He was a fearless, good, honorable, devoted man.

In battle, few were his equal in warfare; none among men - save Aragorn and other Dúnedain - surpassed him in strength and power in battle. He was the firstborn son of Denethor II, the Steward of Gondor, and next in line to take over stewardship of the realm in the absence of the king. Boromir was a warrior, deeply committed to the kingdom, and a relentless enemy of Sauron and all others who threatened the safety and security of Gondor and its chief city, Minas Tirith.

When both he and his younger brother had the same prophetic dream, he claimed his right as older brother and went to Rivendell for help. He was at the Council of Elrond, where the wise and mighty gathered to determine what course of action should be followed. The One Ring, the Ring of Power belonging to Sauron - the Lord of the Rings - had been found: it was in the possession of Frodo, the simple hobbit from The Shire, who had brought it to Rivendell. Gandalf, Elrond, Aragorn, Glorfindel, and many other wise and powerful elves and Free People knew the grave danger bound up in the One Ring; they knew, too, that all their hopes of victory and safety lay in the destruction of that very Ring.

Gimli the Dwarf, like Frodo before him, thought that the ring could simply be destroyed by brute force; he failed as his hardened axe shattered like fine glass upon the Ring forged in the volcanic heat of Mount Doom. Others thought it might be best to take the Ring across the sea, while others wondered if Tom Bombadil - that enigmatic figure over which the Ring had no power - might be able to keep the Ring safe. The wise, however, knew otherwise: the Ruling Ring had to be destroyed.

Boromir, however, thought the wise to be foolish. With growing impatience at the Council, the warrior at last revealed his heart.

Boromir stirred, and Frodo looked at him. He was fingering his great horn and frowning. At length he spoke.

“‘I do not understand all this,’ he said. ‘Saruman is a traitor, but did he not have a glimpse of wisdom? Why do you speak ever of hiding and destroying? Why should we not think that the Great Ring has come into our hands to serve us in the very hour of need? Wielding it the Free Lords of the Free may surely defeat the Enemy. That is what he most fears, I deem.

“‘The Men of Gondor are valiant, and they will never submit; but they may be beaten down. Valour needs first strength, and then a weapon. Let the Ring be your weapon, if it has such power as you say. Take it and go forth to victory!’”

Boromir was overruled by the wise, however, as they once more explained that the Ring is altogether evil and would corrupt any one of any race who wore it, regardless of how good and noble their intentions might be. Chosen as one of the nine members of the Fellowship of the Ring, Boromir later isolates Frodo, who carried the Ring on a chain around his neck. He pleads with the Ringbearer,

‘These elves and half-elves and wizards, they would come to grief perhaps [were they to wear the Ring]. Yet often I doubt if they are wise and not merely timid. But each to his own kind. True-hearted Men, they will not be corrupted. We of Minas Tirith have been staunch through long years of trial. We do not desire the power of wizard-lords, only strength to defend ourselves, strength in a just cause. And behold! in our need chance brings to light the Ring of Power. It is a gift, I say; a gift to the foes of Mordor. It is mad not to use it, to use the power of the Enemy against him. The fearless, the ruthless, these alone will achieve victory. What could not a warrior do in this hour, a great leader? What could not Aragorn do? Or if he refuses, why not Boromir? The Ring would give me power of Command. How I would drive the hosts of Mordor, and all men would flock to my banner!’

“Boromir strode up and down, speaking ever more loudly. Almost he seemed to have forgotten Frodo, while his talk dwelt on walls and weapons, and the mustering of men; and he drew plans for great alliances and glorious victories to be; and he cast down Mordor, and became himself a mighty king, benevolent and wise.”

Boromir’s own words betray the weakness of his heart and his lack of knowledge: he was ignorant of the overwhelming power of sin, of his own inability to overcome sin, and of his own pride and arrogance through which the Ring seduced him. He would be “fearless and ruthless,” much like Sauron himself, possessing “power of Command” and enticing all men to “flock to my banner.” He dreamt and fantasized about “great alliances and glorious victories,” and of becoming “a mighty king,” forgetting that the rightful king - Aragorn - was even then en route to lay claim to the throne.

What were Boromir’s flaws? His brother, Faramir - who knew him perhaps better than anyone - admitted to Frodo that he was not surprised that “this Thing” (the Ring) had led to his brother’s death:

‘What in truth this Thing is I cannot yet guess, but some heirloom of power and peril it must be. A fell weapon, perchance, devised by the Dark Lord. If it were a thing that gave advantage in battle, I can well believe that Boromir, the proud and fearless, often rash, ever anxious for the victory of Minas Tirith (and his own glory therein), might desire such a thing and be allured by it.”

Faramir recognizes, too, that the weakness of his brother was the weakness of Gondor. He notes the positive influence the realm of Gondor has had upon the Rohirrim of Rohan, but also reflects with sorrow upon the decline of his own people:

‘Yet now, if the Rohirrim are grown in some ways more like to us, enhanced in arts and gentleness, we too have become more like to them, and can scarce claim the title High. We are become Middle Men, of the Twilight, but with memory of other things. For as the Rohirrim do, we now love war and valour as things good in themselves, both a sport and an end; and though we still hold that a warrior should have more skills and knowledge than only the craft of weapons and slaying, we esteem a warrior, nonetheless, above men of other crafts.’”

Boromir in Our Pews and Pulpits

The blood of Boromir courses through the veins of many Christians in the church today. Make no mistake about it: these are good men and women, deeply devoted to the cause of Jesus Christ, staunch enemies of our Adversary, always ready to give a strong defense for the hope that is within them. They are, like Boromir, true believers and fierce warriors for the Kingdom.

They are knowledgeable people - here is no zeal without knowledge - Christians committed to knowing the Bible and the truths contained therein. Even more, they are vigilant defenders of that truth as they understand it: they are quick to refute and rebuke error whenever and wherever they encounter it; they are eager to make a convert to their own way of living the Christian life. Like Boromir, they are good people: strong apologists and theologians. They have no lack of conviction for the beliefs they hold.

But as one draws near to these Boromirians, it slowly becomes evident that there is something amiss, even as there is something subtly wrong about the consuming desire of Boromir to do anything and everything to protect and advance the kingdom cause. It is not the presence of any particular trait in these Boromirian believers - although they often share Boromir’s pride, impatience, and imperviousness to instruction from others. No, it is much more the absence of something that causes concern.

Boromir was deeply committed to the kingdom, as are the Boromirians today. But Boromir lost his focus: he sought to accomplish the work of the kingdom but failed to realize that his true devotion and commitment was due not to the kingdom, but to the king with whom he journeyed. As Faramir noted, Boromir and his kind have far more in common with the Rohirrim, who glory in the fight. Boromirians love too much the debate, the argument, the contention, the victory; they lose sight of Him whom they serve. They forget to the love the people for whom He died - and died for out of love for both the Father and all people.

Speaking with Éowyn, Faramir reveals his own heart, passion, and devotion:

War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: the city of the Men of Númenor; and I would have her loved for her memory, her ancientry, her beauty, and her present wisdom. Not feared, save as men fear the dignity of a man, old and wise.”

There is much that feeds our egos and swells our pride when we successfully refute a disagreeing brother or resolutely refuse to be persuaded or influenced by the arguments and reasonings of an unbeliever. Knowledge and power, the rush of confrontation and conflict, can become an end in themselves rather than merely a means to an end.

All our knowledge, our apologetics, theology, and biblical perspectives are good things, but only as means to an end. The end of such things is to evangelize the lost and edify the redeemed. If they are used or viewed as anything other than that, then we have lost sight of the purpose for them: Jesus Christ and His Kingdom, in that order.

The order is critical, since of the two - Christ and the Kingdom - the Lord Jesus Christ is all that really matters. We must remember Whom we serve, not focusing only on the service He has entrusted to us. His call is first and foremost into fellowship, not service: the latter flows freely and naturally from the former. We are servants of the King, not the Kingdom: we serve the Kingdom only because that is what the King has told us to do.

Do you really believe this?

So I will ask again: Do you really believe that the world and life end in joy?

Ralph Wood, in his Introduction to The Gospel According to Tolkien, discusses Tolkien’s views about what constitutes good or real myth. He observes,

True fantasies end happily, thus providing consolation for life’s tragedy and sorrow. But their endings are not escapist. Their felicitous outcome is always produced by a dreadful disaster, by a drastic and unexpected turn of events, which issues in surprising deliverance. Tolkien calls this saving mishap a eucatastrophe: a happy calamity that does not deny the awful reality of dyscatastrophe - of human wreck and ruin. The ending of Tolkien’s book is immensely sad because Frodo is too exhausted by his struggle with evil to enjoy the fruits of his victory. Yet the miraculously violent turnabout - the final clash with Sauron that issues in his defeat - reveals that the ultimate truth is joy - ‘Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief’ (The Monsters and the Critics, 153″

Tolkien was convinced in the ultimate outcome of good and joy - of eucatastrophe - for the world in which we live. His conviction is reflected in the curious statement Gandalf makes to the bitter and despairing Denethor in the hall of the Steward of Gondor.

‘I will say this: the rule of no realm is mine, neither of Gondor nor any other, great or small. But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care. And for my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For I also am a steward. Did you not know?’”

There is something striking, terrifying, and remarkable in Gandalf’s statement. He says, in effect, that even if everything goes horribly wrong and their worst fears are realized, he will not consider himself to have failed if “anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come.” Gandalf can make such a statement because he knows the past and believes the future. Gandalf is a Maiar, an incarnate angel, one who existed before the creation of Earth. He has seen darkness and evil prevail for times in the past: he was there when Melkor disturbed the music of the Ainur, when Morgoth destroyed the Two Lights and then the Two Trees. Gandalf witnessed Sauron’s corruption of the kings of Númenor that resulted in the destruction of the island kingdom.

But Gandalf has also seen the chaining of Melkor and his final casting into the void by Illúvatar, and saw the undoing of Sauron’s reign in the the battle of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. Most importantly, Gandalf knows Illúvatar’s plans and the Last Battle that will bring about the end of the world. He knows that Illúvatar will prevail, not Melkor or Sauron or any other evil that may come into existence. Gandalf has no doubt about how the world ends: it ends in eucatastrophe, not despair.

There is also a remarkable humility to Gandalf’s statement. He was, after all, sent to Middle-earth to assist and encourage both men and elves in their battle against the evil of Sauron. He hoped, without doubt, in the eventual crowning of Aragorn as the rightful King of Gondor, and in the restoration of much that was corrupted by Sauron and Saruman. But his hopes and dreams are subject to the will of Illúvatar, and if it is God’s plan to have Gandalf’s mission result only in the survival of the merest of that which is good, then Gandalf will be content with that success. He is, as he said, only a steward sent to do the bidding of his Master.

Gandalf knew and believed in the final, eucatastrophic outcome because he was an angel and privileged to first-hand knowledge of things only reported to others. But others also believed - that is, they had faith - in the final joy of creation: elves such as Elrond, Galadriel, and Eärendil; men such as Aragorn and Faramir, along with the other Dúnedain. The decisions made by such people in Middle-earth were based on their assurance of things hoped for, on their convictions of things not seen, that good and joy are the final outcome of the world and life.

Christians know this, too, although we may at times forget it. We are told of the eucatastrophic ending of the world in Rev 21.1-5a:

1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea.
2 “And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband.
3 “And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them,
4 ‘and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.’
5 And He who sits on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’”

If we truly believe that the world and life end in eucatastrophe - in joy - then our decisions and priorities every day will reflect that conviction. Our isolated beliefs will become our operating beliefs. We will not despair - since, as Gandalf says, despair is only for those who know the outcome of all things - but will rejoice and choose to do that which is good and right. Decisions will be based not on expediency nor pragmatism, but on the truths and principles given to us by God. He knows the beginning and end. And He knows the outcome is one of eucatastrophe, not despair. He is in control; He is omnipotent: His final purposes cannot and will not be foiled.

The Christian’s life should reflect that immutable fact.

Ultimately and eventually, there is and will be but one Lord. The one Lord will rule over all His kingdom and all of creation; every knee shall bow before him and acknowledge Him as the rightful, singular Lord. As has been said,

God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus EVERY KNEE WILL BOW, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. - Php 2.9-11

This Lord has come and will come again; He has made Himself known and revealed His name to those who are His own. His name is Jesus. When He comes again, He will abolish all rule, authority, and power; He will reign until all His enemies have been subdued, defeated, and abolished. Nothing will escape His dominion. When His work is accomplished, He will then subject Himself to God and transfer the kingdom to Him. There will be one Lord, one God, who is all in all (1 Cor 15.23-28).

Until His return, however, we live in a world of tension. There is a Lord and a lord; there is a Kingdom and a kingdom. The former is the Lord Jesus Christ; the latter is the prince of the power of the air, the spirit which is now at work in the sons of disobedience (Eph 2.2), the evil one who presently has the world under his power (1 Jn 5.19). Every person will serve one or the other: non-Christians are slaves to sin and to him who holds them captive through their fear of death; Christians have a choice. At any given moment, in every situation, whenever a decision or choice is to be made, believers in Jesus Christ choose whom they will serve. Through obedience they can serve the Lord of the Kingdom; through disobedience they will serve the lord of the kingdom.

In J.R.R. Tolkien’s writings - and especially The Lord of the Rings, upon which much of this blog is patterned and from which much is to be learned - choice is critical for significant characters. There is no mention of Christ, although His character and deeds are reflected in numerous characters and behaviors throughout the novel. Satan, the lord of the kingdom in which we now live as aliens, is reflected in the person of Sauron (although Sauron himself is but a former slave to the more evil and powerful Melkor). Evil is personified in Sauron; good is distributed amongst the many who populate the world of men, elves, dwarves, hobbits, and wizards.

The purpose of this blog is to draw from the wealth of wisdom and depth of insight in Tolkien’s covertly Christian book in order to shed additional light on the Christian life and the struggle against, not flesh and blood, but spiritual forces that oppose all that is good. Characters and events elaborate and shed additional light on the unseen realities of life. There is much wisdom to be found in Tolkien’s words, wisdom that originated in the Bible and has found new expression on the lips of Gandalf, Aragorn, Faramir, and others in Middle-earth.

There will be some small-minded, rigid people who will eschew the use of Tolkien’s masterpiece for such purposes. To them I say: go elsewhere. I have found solid food and refreshing drink in the realms of Middle-earth. If they are unable to find gold or mithril in The Lord of the Rings, I wish them well in other places. But I will not suffer them to despoil the joy or spiritual food that some may find on this blog. When setting out to hunt the orcs that had taken Merry and Pippin, Legolas said:

No other folk make such a trampling . . . It seems their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even in their way.”

Sadly, there are not a few orc-minded Christians roaming the Godblogs. Why they must destroy beauty where others find it, I know not. If they find their way here, however, and seek to tear down that which is being built, I will not allow them to remain. They may certainly go elsewhere to complain, criticize, slander, and be divisive; I, for one, do not care: I will not acknowledge them, link to them, or read them. They can live out their days in their highly-polished bitterness.

But to return and complete my statement regarding the purpose of this blog: it is to encourage those who trust in Jesus Christ as their Savior to serve Him. It is to motivate believers not to lapse into willful or negligent service to Satan, who works through the world to appeal to our fleshly desires. I hope that, in some small way, those who read what is offered here will be strengthened to resist the lord of the kingdom and encouraged to serve the Lord of the Kingdom. In the characters that Tolkien described, qualities both good and evil are cast in a different light. The horror of evil is clearer in its stark contrast to that which is good; the goodness and spiritual depths of the wise of Middle-earth provide examples to be studied and even emulated.

Middle-earth, in the end, is not merely a myth created by Tolkien but a mirror of the True Myth which is the Gospel. There is no one-to-one correspondence to be found - this is not allegory, after all - but that which is revealed and transpires in the Ages of Middle-earth points the way to the One true Lord of the Kingdom while warning us of the lord of the kingdom who seeks to enslaves us in rebellion against the One God.