in search of areté

I have read two books by Duriez, Tolkien and the Lord of the Rings: A Guide to Middle-earth and Tolkien and C.S. Lewis: The Gift of Friendship. While each is a valuable read in its own right, the following quotes are from the former. I will provide chapter titles for those readers who wish to read the quotes in their larger context – which I would encourage all readers to do, since extracted quotes cannot capture the fulness of Duriez’s (or others’) insights.

From Tolkien and the Lord of the Rings

1. “How The Lord of the Rings Relates to The Silmarillion“

In Chapter Five of his book, Duriez provides a bridge between the well-known (The Lord of the Rings) and the lesser-known but critical The Silmarillion. Although the latter explains much of the background for the former, it is difficult for most to start by reading a history and then to move on to the more developed, deeper story of The Lord of the Rings. As Duriez explains, however, The Silmarillion enables the reader to have a deeper appreciation and understanding of the events and people involved in The Lord of the Rings.

The rule of [the One] Ring over the lesser ones of the elves, dwarves, and mortals is a central motif of The Lord of the Rings. It is an objective token of the power of evil, and the spell it casts, which tests Bilbo, Frodo, Sam, Gandalf, Saruman, Gollum, the tragic Boromir and many others . . .

“The tales of The Silmarillion evolved through all the years of Tolkien’s adulthood, and strictly are only a part of the published book. The work chronicles the ancient days of the First Age of Middle-earth. It begins with the creation of the Two Lamps . . . and concludes with the great battle in which Morgoth is overthrown . . . The unifying thread of the annals and tales of The Silmarillion is, as its title suggests, the fate of the Silmarils, the gems crafted by Fëanor.

“The published Silmarillion is divided into several sections. The first is the Ainulindalë – the account of the creation of the world . . . The second section is the ‘Valaquenta’ – the history of the Valar. Then follows the main and largest section, the ‘Quenta Silmarillion – The Silmarillion proper (the ‘history of the Silmarils’). The next section is the ‘Akallabêth,’ the account of the Downfall of Númenor. The final section concerns the history of the Rings of Power and the Third Age.

2. Regarding “The Ages of Middle-earth”

Prior to the Ages, Ilúvatar (the creator-deity) created the world, first in conception in music and thin in giving it actual being . . . Tolkien’s mythology is distinctive in being centered upon elves rather than human beings, even though humans eventually get caught up in events and matters of interest to elves . . .

“Before the beginning of the First Age (taken as the rising of the sun) the Valar and later also many of the elves are established in the uttermot West, or Valinor. Fëanor makes the great gems, the Silmarils, which provide the underlying motif for The Silmarillion. Morgoth darkens Middle-earth by destroying the Two Lamps and brings shadow to Valinor by extinguishing the Two Trees . . . He hides in the cold north of Middle-earth, north of Beleriand, long drowned by the time of the events of The Lord of the Rings.

“Beleriand in the First Age is the setting for the tales of Beren and Lúthien, the elf-maiden, Túrin Turambar . . . and the Fall of Gondolin. In a momentous climax to the events, Eärendil the mariner sails to Valinor to intercede on behalf of the free peoples of Beleriand. In the Second Age the star-shaped island of Númenor (Atlantis) is given to the Dúnedail, the Men of the West, for their faithfulness in resisting Morgoth. Sauron, Morgoth’s lieutenant, secretly forges the great Ring in Middle-earth. He succeeds in aiding the corruption of Númenor, resulting in its destruction . . .

“In the Third Age, the Ring remains lost for many centuries. Gondor is a great power. Hobbits migrate to the Shire. The events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings take place . . . The Fourth Age opened our present era of the domination of humankind, and the fading of the elves, where the Christian era gradually unfolds . . . The original geography of Middle-earth changes into its present shape . . . According to [Tolkien's] letters (Letter 211] we may now be in a Sixth or even Seventh Age.

Duriez rightly points out that The Silmarillion, for all its wonderful histories and stories, is actually an unfinished work. Tolkien had intended at least four tales to be far more fully developed than they appear in The Silmarillion, such as “The Fall of Gondolin,” “The Tale of Túrin Turambar,” and “The Voyage of Eärendil the Mariner.” Although not expanded to Tolkien’s satisfaction, there is at least one tale that is given is great detain, as Duriez explains:

Tolkien regarded the tale of Beren and Lúthien, set in an earlier period that the story of Eärendil, as the pivotal story of The Silmarillion, the key to its interlocking themes and events. The tale also determines the outcome of events for Ages to come, not the least in its intermarriage of an elven princess and a mortal man, in which an elven quality becomes incarnate in humanity . . .

“”Lúthien herself was the product of a marriage between an elf and one of the Maiar, so she already had engelic blood in her veins. This angelic inheritance was thus added to the elvish inheritance she gave to Beren. For about 40 years the two lived in Tol Galen, and their only child, Dior, was the father of Elwing, who married the great mariner Eärendil. After the deaths of Beren and Lúthien, Dior inherited the Nauglamir, the necklace in which the silmaril was set.”

The stories in The Silmarillion – for example, “Of the Coming of the Elves and the Captivity of Melkor,” “Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor,” “Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor,” and “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath” – are too beautiful to be summarized here and the reader simply must read them in The Silmarillion. Duriez offers a long, wonderful description and accounting of the story of Beren and Lúthien, but it is far too long to be reproduced here.

3. Duriez also presents a section entitled “Beings, Places, Things, and Events” which provide wonderful descriptions of the major and minor “beings, places, things, and events” that unfold during the Three Ages of Middle-earth. The reader is encouraged to pour over this section for him/herself to gain an increased understanding of how many people and events are interwoven into Tolkien’s remarkable stories.

4. Perhaps Duriez’s most valuable section is “Key Themes, Concepts, and Images in Tolkien.” I will quote from a small percentage of the many observation he makes on various topics.

Allegory – An extended metaphor, or sustained personification . . . Tolkien pointed out that such an interpretation [of parts of his story] confused meaning with applicability. In his Foreword, he writes:

‘I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. I think that many confuse ‘applicability’ with ‘allegory’; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.’

Christianity, Tolkien and – As a Christian, Tolkien rejected much of the Norse world outlook, but admired its imaginative power. These elements that he could transform into Christian meaning, he kept. Of course, he rejected the idea of a polytheistic assembly of gods. Also, he rejected its concept of fate, which conditioned not only humans, but also the gods. Instead, he attempted to portray a biblical vision of providence. This was a central theme of his fiction. Equally central was a passionate portrayal of free will, which also rejected fate . . .

“Tolkien has, in place of the Twilight of the gods, suggestions of a Last Battle at the end of a later Age of Middle-earth that is full of the Christian hope of the end of the world . . .

“Tolkien is particularly concerned with time, and Christian apocalypse. That is, his theme is to reveal the essential meaning behind human history. Pre-eminently like the biblical book of Revelation, he is concerned to bring hope and consolation in dark and difficult days . . .

“A fruitful way of considering Christian meaning in Tolkien is in terms of his commitment to a natural theology . . . Tolkien [in contrast to C.S. Lewis] finds real history and natural events a reliable guide to truth in themselves. Whereas traditional natural theology concentrates on the revelation of God in nature and cosmology, Tolkien particularly finds inevitable theology reveal in language and story, or myth . . .

“In a letter to W.H. Auden (in 1965), Tolkien commented on The Lord of the Rings in relation to Christian theology: ‘I don’t feel under any obligation to make my story fit with formalized Christian theology, though I actually intended it to be consonant with Christian thought and belief.”

Elven quality – In his invented mythology of Middle-earth, Tolkien intended that his elves were an extended metaphor of a key aspect of human nature. This ‘elven quality’ in human life was a central pre-occupation of Tolkien. Elves, like dwarves, hobbits, and the like, partially represent human beings . . . elves represent what is high and noble in human beings. In particular, they represent the arts. In their highest form, Tolkien regardd the arts as sub-creation, work done in the image of God and his created world. The elves may in fact be taken as a metaphor of human culture, highlighting its meaning . . .

“Tolkien balances the ‘elven’ side of human nature with the homely. Like MacDonald and Lewis, he founds his fantasy on the ordinary and on homeliness . . . Tolkien conscientiously tried to make his invention consonant with Christian belief. In the orthodox Christianity of Tolkien, the material world is a real creation of God’s where Christ’s incarnation and continued (though glorified) humanity are central . . .

“By the time of the Fourth Age – our own, where mythology such as Tolkien’s has moved into history – the elven quality mainly persists in human form. The three Ages recorded in Tolkien’s Middle-earth stories and annals are pre-Christian. Our present Fourth Age and beyond is the Christian era, where the elven quality is perhaps now pre-eminently a spiritual one, associated with Christianity, the grace of the gospel (or evangelium), and the presence of the Holy Spirit. Tolkien inclines to a ’spiritual’ view of art . . .

“Tolkien embodied the same ‘elven quality’ in human figures. This embodiment is more complex because humans are subject to the ‘gift of Ilúvatar,’ death, whereas elves are immortal. The Númenorean humans, though, were granted a life-span far exceeding the normal . . . Death was meant to highlight the eternal quality within themselves, which carried the promise of continuing life in the future in the plan of Ilúvatar . . .

“In Tolkien’s beginning, there are real elves (and a real Númenorean civilization). Now there is merely an ‘elven quality’ to human life, which some can see clearly andothers fail to perceive at all. In all the abstraction, there has been a real loss. He sees such a loss restored by the evangelium, as he points out in his seminal essay, ‘On Fairy Stories.’ Tolkien concludes: ‘God is the Lord, of angels, and of man – and of Elves. Legend and history have met and fused.’

“Tolkien saw the ‘elven quality’ embodied and made real in the incarnation, death and resurrection of Christ.”

Fairy stories – J.R.R. Tolkien’s lecture ‘On Fairy Stories’ . . . links God and humanity in two related ways. In the first, he, as an orthodox Christian, sees humankind – male and female – as being made in the image of God . . . The second way Tolkien links God and humanity is in similarities that exist by necessity between the universe of God’s making and human making . . .

“The successful writer fairy story ‘makes a Secondary World which your mind can enter. Inside it, what he relates is “true”: it accords with the laws of that world. In addition . . . a good fairy tale has three other key structural features. In the first place, it helps to bring about in the reader what Tolkien called recovery – that is, the restoration of a true view of the meaning of ordinary and humble things which make up human life and reality such as love, thought, trees, hills and food . . . Second, the good fairly story offers escape from one’s narrow and distorted view of reality and mean. This is the escape of the prisoner rather than the flight of the deserter. Third, the good story offers consolation, leading to joy . . .

“The consolation, argued Tolkien, only had meaning because good stories pointed to the greatest story of all. This story had all the structural features of a fairy tale, myth, or great story, with the additional feature of being true in actual human history. This was the Gospel, the story of God himself coming to earth as a humble human being, a king, like Aragorn, in disguise; a seeming fool, like Frodo and Sam, the greatest storyteller entering his own story.” (emphasis mine)

Myth, mythology – Tolkien intended his invented mythology to illuminate the real, primary world. He hope that it would bring to his reader recovery of a true view of things, escape from the prison of inaccurate and misleading presuppositions, and true consolation, consolation which pointed to the historical gospel story . . .

In review his friend’s The Lord of the Rings, C.S. Lewis describes just how Tolkien’s invented mythology is applicable to the primary, real world. Lewis concentrates on the aspect of recovery:

‘The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significances which has been hidden by the veil of familiarity. The child enjoys his cold meat, otherwise dull to him, by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back o him more savoury for having been deipped in a story; you might say that only then is it real meat . . . By putting bread, gold, horse, apple, or the very roads into a myth, we do not retreat from reality: we rediscover it. As long as the story lingers in our mind, the real things are more themselves. This book applies the treatment not only to bread or apple but to good and evil, to our endless perils, our anguish and our joys. By dipping them in myth we see them more clearly. I do not think he could have done it in any other way.’

“Tolkien persuaded Lewis that, at the heart of Christianity, is a myth that is also a fact – making the claims of Christianity unique. But by becoming fact it did not cease to be myth, or lose the quality of myth . . . Human stories were interrelated and, by God’s grace, carriend insights into the true nature of things. It is the gospel, however, that has broken into this web of story from the real world.”

If what has been reproduced here of Duriez’s work has not enticed the reader to buy his book and read it for themselves, then it is doubtful that any additional quotes would achieve that end. But, as a final word, I must point to Duriez’s section on “Tolkien’s theology of story,” which alone is worth the price of the book. In this section Duriez explores Tolkien’s ideas on such topics as Sub-creation, natural theology and nature in Tolkien; Sub-creation, nature and grace in Tolkien; Story, grace and the centrality of elves; Paganism, and Tolkien as a Christian artist.

Namárië!

It is a wonderfully satisfying scene.

Gandalf, having now returned as Gandalf the White, stands in the Golden Hall of King Théoden listening to the deceit and seduction of Grima, the king’s counselor and Saruman’s mouthpiece. Shortly after halting Gimli, who was advancing on Wormtongue for having referred to Galadriel as “the Sorceress of the Golden Wood,” Gandalf reflects on some verse concerning the Elven queen. We pick up the narrative as the wizard concludes his chorus of praise to Galadriel.

Thus Gandalf softly sang, and then suddenly he changed. Casting his tattered cloak aside, he stood up and leaned no longer on his staff; and he spoke in a clear cold voice.

“‘The wise speak only of what they know, Grima son of Gálmód. A witness worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls.’”

As usual, wisdom is heard from the lips of Gandalf. He will not spend any more time talking with one who speaks foolishly or in the service of another. He silences the “Wormtongue” and turns his attention to the one in whom he is interested: King Théoden.

Also, as usual, there is something for all bloggers to learn from the words and actions of Gandalf, the incarnate angel. One lesson might be that we would do well – or at least do better – not to engage in arguments with people that we don’t respect, for if we feel that way towards them then it is highly likely that they have a similar opinion of us.

Every day Christians argue with other Christians for whom they have little or no respect, going to great lengths to demonstrate (a) that the person is wrong, and (b) that they have little or no respect for them. They may do it through condescension, anger, arrogance, or (rarely) with feigned civility, but the tone and tenor of the argument is evident.

Edward Gibbon, the great historian of the Roman Empire, is reported to have said, “I never make the mistake of arguing with people for whose opinion I have no respect.” It is but a small step – albeit a very significant step – from having no respect for a person’s opinion to having no respect for the person. But it is, I think, possible (maintaining respect, not taking the step); as Christians, it is not only possible but desirable and ordered for us.

It seems so difficult, however, and the reasons for the difficulty are legion, I am sure. Even though I am paid to figure out such psychological or spiritual behaviors, I claim no special insight into the causes for our failure to maintain respect for the person while vehemently disagreeing with the opinion being expressed.

Of this much, though, I am sure: we are commanded to “speak the truth in love” and allow

“no unwholesome word to proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear.”

This must be fairly important because Paul (a) has just said as much earlier in the same letter, and (b) immediately follows this command with “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God.”

How many of us, I wonder, stop to consider whether or not we are about to grieve the Spirit of God before we click on the “publish” or “post” link on our blog? I, for one, know that I am usually conscious – I am tempted to stop there – that I am usually conscious of the other person who will be reading my invective, but rarely pause to think about how this is going to sound to the Holy Spirit.

I wonder if that is a discipline worth developing?

James states the obvious – but does not excuse it – in saying that it is impossible for anyone to tame their own tongue. We are quick to speak – too quick many times, it seems – and vomit forth words without regard for our audience or our Audience. The tongue, to be sure, is beyond our complete control.

I am not so sure, however, that the same statement or allowance could or should be made for the posts we publish. As we write we have time to reflect; as we proofread – you do proofread, don’t you? – we have the opportunity to hear our words and even consider how it might sound to the Holy Spirit.

Bloggers are like teachers, I am convinced, and will be held to a higher standard of judgment. Wisdom would implore us to ponder and pray before we publish.

One of the many wonderful things about the popularity of J.R.R. Tolkien is that there is no lack of books exploring Middle-earth from a variety of perspectives. This post reviews philosopher Peter Kreeft’s outstanding book, The Philosophy of Tolkien: The Worldview Behind The Lord of the Rings. The quotations are intended to whet the appetite of the reader and to provide a taste of what is contained in the whole of the book.

According to the back cover of the book,

Peter Kreeft, a professor of philosophy at Boston College, is one of the most widely read Christian authors of our time. His more than 30 best-selling books include Catholic Christianity; Heaven, the Heart’s Deepest Longing; and Socrates Meets Marx.”

The Philosophy of Tolkien is organized around fifty philosophical questions grouped into thirteen categories, including Metaphysics, Philosophical Theology, Angelology, Cosmology, Epistemology, Political Philosophy, and Ethics. The following quotes are from Kreeft’s fascinating Introduction.

“This book is not about Tolkien’s world,” Kreeft explains. “It is about Tolkien’s worldview, Tolkien’s philosophy.” That philosophy, however, is not as readily apparent as it might have been if Tolkien had chosen a different style to write his classic. Kreeft says,

If The Lord of the Rings were an allegory, the philosophy would be on the surface, like rocks. Instead, it is more like the molten core of the earth: central but hidden.”

One of the joys of Kreeft’s book is that it not only accomplishes its goal – to reveal Tolkien’s worldview – but provides insight and commentary regarding the culture and times in which we now live. He refers to numerous polls done in England to determine what the English people believed to be the greatest book of the last century; to the horror of the critics, The Lord of the Rings topped the lists no matter how many times the surveys were done or how they were worded to produce a different result. Kreeft observes:

The polls revealed one important thing about The Lord of the Rings: that it is a classic, that is, a book loved by humanity, by human nature, wherever it is found. And they revealed one important thing about the critics: that humanity isn’t found in that arrogant oligarchy of utterly out-of-touch elitists. And they revealed one important thing about our culture, the same thing revealed by many polls that ask questions about values and about philosophy: that our culture is not egalitarian at all, in fact, that it is perhaps the least egalitarian culture in the history of the world. For in what other culture has the worldview and life view of the teachers differed so radically from that of the students?

“Every human soul craves ‘the good, the true, and the beautiful’ absolutely and without limit. And it is precisely about these three most fundamental values that the gap is widest.”

Like many who write about Tolkien, Kreeft feels almost a sense of duty to defend the “Author of the Century” against the attacks of the professional critics. He continues,

Our artists deliberately prefer ugliness to beauty, our moralists fear goodness more than evil, and our philosophers embrace various forms of post-modernism that reduce truth to ideology or power . . .

“Those who love Tolkien are almost always good people, honest people. Some are Hobbit-like and some are Elvish, but none are Orcish. Not all Tolkien haters are Orcs, but all Orcs are Tolkien haters.”

It is the philosophy of The Lord of the Rings, Kreeft argues, that (among other factors) makes the work great. There are five aspects to any story, Kreeft says, and Tolkien succeeds at all five levels: plot, characters, setting, style, and theme. Kreeft re-works these five dimensions into work, workers, world, words, and wisdom.

‘Philosophy’ means ‘the love of wisdom.’ So a story’s philosophy is one of its five basic dimensions. Which ‘dimensions’ sold The Lord of the Rings? All five.”

Such is the influence of The Lord of the Rings that its power goes beyond transforming the individual to impacting Western society. Kreeft explains:

The Lord of the Rings heals our culture as well as our souls. It gives us the most rare and precious thing in modern literature: the heroic. It is a call to heroism; it is a horn like the horn of Rohan, which Merry received from Theoden and used to rouse the Hobbits of the Shire from their sheepish niceness and passivity to throw off their tyrants, first in their souls and then in their society.”

Demonstrating the connection between philosophy and literature, Kreeft says that “philosophy and literature belong together. They can work like the two lenses of a pair of binoculars.” He explains the importance of the two being considered together:

Philosophy argues abstractly. Literature argues too – it persuades, it changes the reader – but concretely. Philosophy says truth, literature shows truth.

“The Bible is primarily literature, not philosophy; concrete, not abstract; narrative, not explanation. Its wisdom literature, or philosophical books, are commentary on its historical books, in both Testaments.

“Human thought is both concrete (particular) and abstract (universal) at the same time . . . Because human thought is binocular, abstract philosophy and concrete literature naturally reinforce each other’s vision.”

Returning to the subject of allegory, Kreeft maintains that philosophy is illustrated in allegory by the one-to-one relationship of the concrete to the abstract. Tolkien’s writing, however, is not allegorical and rather embodies the worldview supporting it.

All literature incarnates some philosophy. Thus all literature teaches. In allegory, the philosophy is taught by the conscious and calculating part of the mind, while in great literature it is done by the unconscious and contemplative part of the mind, which is deeper and wiser and has more power to persuade and move the reader. Allegory engages only the mind, while great literature engages the whole person; for allegory comes from only the mind, while great literature comes from the whole person . . .

“One way literature tests philosophy is by putting different philosophies into the laboratory of life, incarnating them in different characters and then seeing what happens . . . Literature also tests philosophy in a more fundamental way. It can be expressed by this rule: a philosophy that cannot be translated into a good story cannot be a good philosophy.”

Further differentiating allegory from non-allegory, Kreeft identifies another important distinction between the two:

In an allegory, the philosophical frame becomes the story. The plot and the characters are there only for that reason: they are used as means to illustrate the philosophy. That is why we do not love the characters or care about them much as individuals . . . In non-allegorical stories, the philosophy serves the story, as a frame serves a picture; in allegory it is vice versa.”

In concluding his introductory remarks, Kreeft provides an insightful test for determining whether writing is allegorical or incarnational:

I know The Lord of the Rings is not an allegory because I don’t find myself saying, of anything in it, ‘That reminds me of this or that,’ but I constantly find myself saying, of this or that, ‘That reminds me of something in The Lord of the Rings.’ In fact, almost everthing reminds me of something in The Lord of the Rings.”

I accidentally deleted your comment. Very sorry, really. I’m so used to hitting the “mark all as spam” button that I sent your input to the black hole that is my database (I don’t know how to get it back from there).

I will post something on Boromir, but first I have to figure out if his is a case of restoration or salvation. In a pre-Christian era (such as the OT or LOTR), it’s sometimes hard to know. Boromir did have Númenorean blood in him, albeit not as much as his brother or father, but I don’t know if that makes him part of the covenant/chosen community. If I recall, however, the first movie made a lot more of his “salvation” than did the book. But I could be wrong: give me a little time and I’ll post my thoughts.

Again, sorry for wiping you out; thanks, though, for the comment.

On Friday afternoons I have the privilege of leading a group study on Christian themes and virtues, as well as glimpses of Christ, portrayed in the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien. The youth leader of our church helped organize the meetings and is an eager participant, as are a college volunteer leader and three or four high school students who faithfully gather each week at a Christian coffeehouse. We are working our way through Following Gandalf, Matthew Dickerson’s insightful and thoughtful treatment of Christian values in The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion.

Several weeks ago we were discussing Gollum and, in particular, Frodo and Sam’s treatment of him. Frodo, you will remember, had little sympathy for Gollum at the beginning. Before Frodo has so much as set foot on the path outside his door to begin his quest, he learns of the ill-nature and evil-doings of the former hobbit-like creature; he says to Gandalf with alarm,

‘But this is terrible!’ cried Frodo. ‘Far worse than the worst that I imagined from your hints and warnings. O Gandalf, best of friends, what am I to do? What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!’

“‘Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity.’

“‘I am sorry,’ said Frodo. ‘But I am frightened; and I do not feel any pity for Gollum.’

“‘You have not seen him,’ Gandalf broke in.

“‘No, and I don’t want to,’ said Frodo. ‘I can’t understand you. Do you mean to say that you, and the Elves, have let him live on after all those horrible deeds? Now at any rate he is as bad as an Orc, and just an enemy. He deserves death.’

“‘Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment.’”

As Frodo and his companions make their way to Rivendell and then later to the Mines of Moria, there is little evidence that Frodo’s attitude towards Gollum has changed at all. In the darkness of Moria, however, Frodo gets his first “glimpse” of the creature: at first it is the hushed footfalls of Gollum as he follows the Fellowship; later it is two pin-pricks of pale green light peering at him over a ledge. Still, there is no tangible evidence of change or compassion on the part of Frodo.

It is not until much later when Frodo comes face-to-face with Gollum that pity begins to waft over the Ringbearer. While slowly and painfully finding their way through Emyn Muil, Frodo and Sam find an opportunity to capture Gollum and do so. A decision must be made whether to allow him to live or spare him. Fearful of what the creature will do to him and his Master, Sam is in favor of dispatching Gollum; Frodo, however, is not so sure:

He paused for a while in thought. Gollum lay still, but stopped whimpering. Sam stood glowering over him.

“It seemed to Frodo then that he heard, quite plainly but far off, voices out of the past:”

What Frodo heard was the voice of Gandalf (as quoted above), telling the then-merciless Frodo that pity and life are high and great values, the marks of wisdom. After replaying the conversation silently in his head, Frodo says:

‘Very well,’ he answered aloud, lowering his sword. ‘But still I am afraid. And yet, as you see, I will not touch the creature. For now that I see him, I do pity him.”

Someone has changed over the hundreds of miles of journeying southward, and it is not Gollum. Frodo now sees the wretchedness and misery of Gollum and cannot bring himself to kill him, even though he knows that in fact this vile creature might kill him. I say cannot bring himself, but it is obviously a choice that he makes freely based on the wisdom of Gandalf. Instead of killing him, Frodo chooses and Sam submits to make Gollum their guide on the way to Mordor.

Sam’s animosity towards Gollum grows as the creature leads them to a trap at the top of the stairs of Cirith Ungol. As Shelob the Great, “the last child of Ungoliant,” attacks Frodo, Gollum pounces on Sam, intending to kill the “fat, stupid hobbit.” He underestimates Sam, however, and soon it is Gollum, not Sam, who is in peril of his life.

Sam swept up his sword from the ground and raised it. Gollum squealed, and springing aside on to all fours, he jumped away in one big bound like a frog. Before Sam could reach him, he was off, running with amazing speed back towards the tunnel.

“Sword in hand Sam went after him. For the moment he had forgotten everything else but the red fury in his brain and the desire to kill Gollum. But before he could overtake him, Gollum was gone.”

But Gollum is not about to give up. At the foot of Mount Doom, he makes what seems to be his last attack on Frodo, only to be repulsed once again. Frodo goes ahead toward the Cracks of Doom and Sam is left at last with the opportunity to kill Gollum:

‘Now!’ said Sam. ‘At last I can deal with you!’ He leaped forward drawn blade ready for battle. But Gollum did not spring. He fell flat upon the ground and whimpered . . .

“Sam’s hand wavered. His mind was hot with wrath and the memory of evil. It would be just to slay this treacherous, murderous creature, just and many times deserved; and also it seemed the only safe thing to do. But deep in his heart there was something that restrained him: he could not strike this thing lying in the dust, forlorn, ruinous, utterly wretched.”

Assuming correctly that no one in the group had read the passage recently, I asked why Sam – who was ready to kill Gollum just a short time earlier – now could not bring himself to do so. Whether it was from memory or realization, the group gave the answer found in the continuing text for the sudden appearance of Sam’s compassion:

He himself, though only for a little while, had borne the Ring, and now dimly he guessed the agony of Gollum’s shrivelled mind and body, enslaved to that Ring, unable to find peace or relief ever in life again.”

Gollum had possessed the Ring for centuries while Sam had carried it and worn it only for a matter of hours. But Sam is changed by the experience. He suddenly understands the horror and power of the Ring, its crushing weight and seductive power. Where he had possessed no empathy or pity before, Sam now knows well enough what Gollum had suffered and was suffering still; knowing this, Sam is moved to exercise mercy rather than judgment, and his mercy saves his Master Frodo at the end.

As I wander deliberately around Christian cyberspace, I am dismayed by the lack of love, compassion, pity, and mercy evidenced at so many sites. It is especially prevelant among many – but by no means all – Reformed blogs; unfortunately, like a horrific, fatal accident on the side of the road, people cannot help themselves: they are inexorably drawn to the display of tragedy and sin.

Not so long ago, Pyromaniacs boasted of an imflammatory post (I agreed, to an extent, with the content of the post but struggled to get past the arrogant attitude so often on display by some of the writers there. If you’re looking for humility or compassionate treatment of others, you might skip “team pyro.”).

The post produced a “record” number of comments, too many of which were disrespectful and unloving. Christians attacked Christians with the same sort of red-hot fury that possessed Sam towards Gollum prior to his wearing the Ring. While not all participated, more than a few did what they could to fan the flames and keep the conflagration roaring on its record-setting pace. It was, sadly, an all-too-common display of the sort of behavior that brings disgrace to the Name of Jesus Christ and sows discord among the Body.

Elsewhere, Dan took a cheap shot at everybody’s favorite whipping boy, the dispensationalists. In handing out the fourth of his sarcastic, condescending Cowbell Awards, a significant number of believers in Christ were slandered as a group of “Hyperkinetic dispensationalism run amok.” Not hyperdispensationalism, which is a different breed of dispensationalist, but “hyperkinetic dispensationalism,” a brush broad enough to disparage a large segment of Christians.

(Dispensationalists are easy targets, I suppose, because they rarely fight back or defend themselves. I don’t think it’s because they are unable to fight back or lack the intelligence or wit to go toe-to-toe with their slanderers; I think they possess sufficient humility to understand that some of the criticisms are just and that those that are not do not warrant a similar, God-dishonoring reply. [I am a dispensationalist but it's not something I think is worth dividing over or attacking others for: I find it to be little more than a hermeneutical tool to make sense of God's work in history. Besides, the theological and hermeneutical alternatives are less satisfying and, to me, less consistent - although they are biblically defensible.])

All of this is to say that, for all the knowledge and so-called wisdom that attracts so many readers, there is a glaring lack of humility and decency on blogs like those mentioned above. Mercy is absent, as are compassion and wisdom. There is considerable knowledge but, as Paul predicted, a corresponding arrogance that renders the knower to be nothing.

If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” – 1 Cor 13.1-2

It is sad to see such zealous people possess so much knowledge but lack the understanding and wisdom that would transform that knowledge into love for other Christians. Why we feel the need to assail one another as we do baffles me at times; I have written about this elsewhere, both here and here. At the second site, I noted:

“Like the arrogant, secular philosophers and critics they so resemble, these blogging bullies’ ‘greatest joy is to be shocking, and their greatest fear is to be ignored’” (Peter Kreeft, p. 15).

I am not so naïve to believe that great numbers of people will stop reading these pugnacious blogs – it appeals too strongly to our fleshly lust for blood. But if only one person finds some compassion and, like Sam, can refrain from snuffing out a smoldering wick or breaking off a bruised reed, then some good will have come from this post.

Before beginning the tale of the War of the Ring, as chronicled in The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien presents his readers with a Prologue that introduces Middle-earth to those who perhaps have not read The Hobbit. So rich is the Prologue that even those who have read and re-read the latter find a wealth of information and background concerning pipe-weed, the ordering of the Shire, the finding of the One Ring, and – most importantly – of hobbits themselves.

In the telling of the history and prosperity of hobbits, Tolkien provides the following information and insight into this seemingly insignificant people. After he records how the hobbits first came to the land west of the Brandywine River, he goes on to note:

While there was still a king they were in name his subjects, but they were, in fact, ruled by their own chieftains and meddled not at all with events in the world outside . . .

“There for a thousand years they were little troubled by wars, and they prospered and multiplied after the Dark Plague (S.R. 37¹) until the disaster of the Long Winter and the famine that followed it. Many thousands then perished, but the Days of Dearth (1158-60) were at the time of this tale long past and the Hobbits had again become accustomed to plenty. The land was rich and kindly, and though it had long been deserted when they entered it, it had before been well tilled, and there the king had once had many farms, cornlands, vineyards, and woods.

“Forty leagues it stretched from the Far Downs to the Brandywine Bridge, and fifty from the northern moors to the marshes in the south. The Hobbits named it the Shire, as the region of the authority of their Thain^2, and a district of well-ordered business; and there in that pleasant corner of the world they plied their well-ordered business of living, and they heeded less and less the world outside where dark things moved, until they came to think that peace and plenty were the rule of Middle-earth and the right of all sensible folk. They forgot or ignored what little they had ever known of the Guardians^3, and of the labours of those that made possible the long peace of the Shire. They were, in fact, sheltered, but they had ceased to remember it.” – LOTR, pp. 4-5 (emphasis mine)

¹ S.R. = Shire Reckoning. Year One began with the crossing of the Brandywine River
² A ‘Thain’ was a chieftain chosen by other Hobbit chieftains to serve as a ‘CEO’ for the Shire and to oversee administrative responsibilities – which were few.
³ The ‘Guardians’ of the Shire were primarily the Dúnedain and Gandalf, likely assisted by the Elves.

It is from the emphasized portion of the preceding quote that the present post is drawn: the experience of the hobbits in many ways parallels the lives of millions of Christians who have either forgotten, ignored, or not been informed of the “Guardians” of the Church.

We need look no further than the Book of Hebrews to begin to discover those that have faithfully transmitted the truth of God and faith in Him to subsequent generations. Abel, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Rahab, and many, many others are listed in chapter 11. Eventually, as though overwhelmed by the faithful believers of the past, the writer to the Hebrews says,

32 And what more shall I say? For time will fail me if I tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets,
33 who by faith conquered kingdoms, performed acts of righteousness, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions,
34 quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight.
35 Women received back their dead by resurrection; and others were tortured, not accepting their release, so that they might obtain a better resurrection;
36 and others experienced mockings and scourgings, yes, also chains and imprisonment.
37 They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tempted, they were put to death with the sword; they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated
38 (men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground.
39 And all these, having gained approval through their faith, did not receive what was promised,
40 because God had provided something better for us, so that apart from us they would not be made perfect.” – NASB

The description from v. 35b to the end is especially noteworthy: there was no happy ending in this life for such men and women. They did not receive what was promised in this life – receiving their reward instead in eternity – but were willing to forfeit themselves for the hope they had in God. It is because of the faithfulness of such men and women of the Old Testament that Christians today have a record of the creative works, the decisive interventions, and the interactions of God with His people. The author opens the next chapter with the exhortation,

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also . . .”

Because of their lives, the author says, Christians should “also” live faithfully as God’s children and elect people. Such faithful predecessors need to be remembered and thanks given for them.

In like fashion, the pages of Church history provide a plethora of loyal witnesses, both identified and unidentified. From Stephen to modern-day martyrs, from Peter on the Day of Pentecost to Billy Graham in New York City, from Augustine to N.T. Wright, the history of the church is filled with those who have faithfully discharged the stewardships entrusted to them by God. Included are those disciplined, devoted, anonymous priests who for thousands of years meticulously copied the manuscripts so that we have today the New Testament, as reliable and accurate as the Old Testament.

These, too, should be called to memory and thanks be given for the work they faithfully did and the preservation of the Bible to the present day.

There is a third company, however, that may be more similar to the “Guardians” of the Shire than either of the two preceding groups. This third group battles tirelessly and constantly for the sake of the Church body and each individual member of the Body of Christ. They are ever on-guard, diligently and vigilantly protecting Christians against the efforts of the enemy.

This third company consists of the elect angels of God, those spiritual beings that did not succumb to the temptations of Satan to join in the rebellion against Yahweh. Their care for us is mentioned throughout the Bible: Paul makes reference to the presence of angels in the worship of the church (1 Co 11.10), Heb 1.13-14 tells us that they “render service” to believers, and Ps 91.11-12 declares,

For He will give His angels charge concerning you, To guard you in all your ways.
They will bear you up in their hands, That you do not strike your foot against a stone.”

Three additional passages pull back the curtain even more and give us a glimpse of the work of angels in their care and guardianship of believers. The Books of Daniel and of Jude reveal:

Da 10:13 But the prince of the kingdom of Persia was withstanding me for twenty-one days; then behold, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, for I had been left there with the kings of Persia.
Da 12:1 Now at that time Michael, the great prince who stands guard over the sons of your people, will arise. And there will be a time of distress such as never occurred since there was a nation until that time; and at that time your people, everyone who is found written in the book, will be rescued.
Jude 1:9 But Michael the archangel, when he disputed with the devil and argued about the body of Moses, did not dare pronounce against him a railing judgment, but said, ‘The Lord rebuke you!’”

The first reference is a statement made by an angel sent to answer a prayer of Daniel. The angel or messenger explains that he was resisted and prevented from progressing further until Michael the Archangel came to assist him. The second passages illustrates the interventions and activities of angels in the affairs of this present world, while the third reveals the battle that raged between Michael and the devil concerning the body of one of the saints.

Angels are all around us, protecting us, guarding us, fighting for us, and participating in the work of God in our lives. More than the saints of the Old Testament or the New, they ought to be a cause for thanks giving.

Like the hobbits of Middle-earth, it is easy for us to fall into thinking that a life of prosperity and pleasure – for such is the life of anyone who owns a computer compared to the majority of the world – that such an existence is something to be expected, as though we are entitled to it. We fail to recall those that have gone before us and fought battles that we do not have to fight in our day; especially do we overlook the sacrifices and efforts of angels who do battle in the invisible, spiritual realm where the real war is being waged (Eph 6.12).

This is not to suggest that any of us should give thanks to the angels anymore than we would give thanks to the saints of the Old and New Testaments. Like the saints of yesterday and today, angels are servants of God. These elect angels serve us only because they are ordered to do so by God Himself. Thus, it is to God alone that thanks should be given.

In the giving of thanks to God, therefore, we should be mindful of those who have both gone before us and even now travel with us. The “Guardians” of our lives, albeit only servants, should not be ignored or forgotten when we thank God for His work in our lives. Let us thank God for the saints through whom He worked in the past and for the angels who continually serve as faithful ministers of His purposes.

The Body of Christ teeters on the brink of dismemberment: we are fractured into so many different and differing segments that anything even remotely resembling unity is almost impossible to find and even more difficult to sustain.

We tell ourselves and one another that we are divided because of adherence to the truth: we have it and others do not; hence, fellowship and communion with those of different belief systems are difficult. Indeed, in some corners of Christendom those who do not hold to a particular dogma or theological schema are regarded as heretics and their salvation is doubted, if not outright denied.

But Jesus Christ, while embodying truth in His life, did not make truth the greatest good or the litmus test of true spirituality. He made it important, to be sure, but He regarded other qualities to be of greater import. “By this all men will know that you are My disciples,” Jesus declares in Jn 13.35, “if you have love for one another.” Not if you have the truth and teach it to one another, but if you have love for one another.

We seldom have trouble loving those who subscribe to the same set of beliefs as we; we are challenged, though, when we encounter Christians who not only hold to different doctrines but seem to be able to defend and support them biblically. We can argue with their hermeneutics, perhaps, but these less-than-truth-knowing believers are difficult to love. Doctrines and beliefs contrary to our own can be unsettling and unnerving; we do not like them and do not like those who espouse them.

But Jesus calls us to love them just the same. This is no easy calling: I want to evaluate others according to my standards of truth, first judging whether or not they are worthy of my love. You know, the “pearls before swine” test.

Even as Jesus emphasizes love, He further stakes His reputation and witness on our ability as believers to manifest unity. In His prayer recorded in Jn 17.20-23, Jesus makes the following request of the Father:

I do not ask on behalf of these alone, but for those also who believe in Me through their word; that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me. The glory which You have given Me I have given to them, that they may be one, just as We are one; I in them and You in Me, that they may be perfected in unity, so that the world may know that You sent Me, and loved them, even as You have loved Me.” (emphases mine)

These are remarkable and troubling words. As the unbelieving world sees the unity of Body of Christ, they are enabled to know two things: (1) that Jesus Christ was sent by the Father, and (2) that God loves Christians even as He loves Christ. It is remarkable because so much is dependent upon the unity of the Christian community; it is troubling because so much is dependent upon the unity of the Christian community.

We often mistake uniformity for unity, believing that we must all think, act, worship, and “be spiritual” in some arbitrarily determined fashion. Uniformity is not unity; unity necessitates differences that are accepted, welcomed, and embraced – via love – that in turn bind us together to function as a healthy reflection of the unity and love in the Godhead.

We claim it is truth that causes divisions, but perhaps we are deceived.

As the Fellowship of the Ring Рminus Gandalf, who has by now fallen in battle with a Balrog in Moria Рenters the wondrous Elven realm of Lothl̫rien, it is required that Gimli the dwarf be blindfolded so that he may not know the way to the haven deep within the forest. Animosity between the Elves and Dwarves has persisted for ages in Middle-earth and, in times of tension and lingering threats, the Elves do not trust Gimli even though he was chosen by Elrond Half-elven. Seeking to maintain the unity of the Fellowship, Aragorn wisely demands that all its members be blindfolded along with Gimli, even Legolas the Elven prince.

‘Alas for the folly of these days!’ said Legolas. ‘Here all are enemies of the one Enemy, and yet I must walk blind, while the sun is merry in the woodland under leaves of gold!’

“‘Folly it may seem,’ said Haldir. ‘Indeed in nothing is the power of the Dark Lord more clearly shown than in the estrangement that divides all those who still oppose him.’” (emphasis mine)

The fears and folly of the Free People of Middle-earth are replicated in the Church of God: we share a common Enemy and a common Lord, and yet we treat one another with such disdain, disgust, and distrust that – far from showing the world our love for Christ – we display to unbelievers the inability to love even our own brothers and sisters who disagree with us in doctrine, practice, or both.

As Haldir says, the lack of unity does not bring glory to God but rather demonstrates the insidious power of Satan. Our divisions and divisiveness reflect his power, not the power of God.

This is not to say that truth is unimportant; it is to say, however, that there are many truths that fail the test of uniformity but nevertheless can be allowed under the banner of unity in Christ. The eternal destiny of many and ultimate glory of God rest far more on the love and unity we have for one another than on the doctrinal shibboleths by which we isolate ourselves and tear apart the Body of Christ.

It is time for the church to be known not merely for her love of the truth, but for the truth of her love.