The Lord of the Kingdom

(See also “Being a Dúnadan” and “The Path of a Dúnadan”)

Avallónnë. Fifth Age. - It may seem to be more than a little self-aggrandizing to refer to myself as a Modern-Day Dúnadan but I do so nonetheless. I will hasten, however, to (a) make clear that I do not lay claim to being The Dúnadan, for that name belongs to Aragorn alone, and (b) explain what I mean by being a Dúnadan.

As we all know, the Dúnedain were the Rangers of the Third Age who patrolled and guarded the vulnerable inhabited lands in Middle-earth. They tended to be isolated much of the time although they did not avoid people and would quickly draw near to like-minded others, whether they were elves, wizards, hobbits, other Dúnedain, or even dwarves. They valued people individually and evaluated them on the basis of personal character, not according to race, kindred, or even - to an extent - creed.

The Dúnedain are not numerous these days or, if they are, not many know about them - including other Dúnedain. We do tend to find one another, however, as though by chance, and a friendship forged is rarely undone. A Dúnadan survives in part by the mere knowledge that he (or she) is not alone, although they may be quite distant from those around them. It is a distance born of difference: a difference of perception, values, and temperament.

The Dúnedain, of course, are Númenoreans, the faithful people who escaped the doom of their island home and set up kingdoms in Middle-earth west of the Anduin in Arnor and Gondor. All of us who claim the Name of Christ are Númenorean but, sadly, not all are Dúnedain: a Dúnadan is more Númenorean than most Númenoreans. We are the same, only more so.

(If that sounds boastful or arrogant, so be it. I cannot deny what I believe to be true and what my life bears witness to. I do not hold my Dúnadan status as a badge of honor or greatness but only as a symbol of greater responsibility. Let others say what they will; I know what my relationship with God is like. It is for Him that I perform. No other opinion matters.)

Most Númenoreans, I fear, are similar to those described by Faramir as he talked to Frodo at The Refuge of Henneth Annûn. He spoke, perhaps as much to himself as to the hobbit, of the difference between Rohan and Gondor, and of the greatness that once belonged to the latter, the lone surviving kingdom of the ancient Númenoreans.

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.”

The blood of Númenor ran more purely in Faramir than in most of his day, including his valiant brother Boromir. Boromir was the very sort of man - a warrior - held in high esteem merely because he was a warrior. This grieved Faramir. And Gandalf. And Aragorn. The hearts of Faramir and Aragorn, and the other Dúnedain, are reflected in Faramir’s later words to Éowyn.

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.”

Much goes on in Middle-earth - this chronological middle-land between heaven and hell - that is of little interest to a Dúnadan. Hobbits squabble amongst themselves, dwarves get up in arms against elves and other dwarves, and men do what men do best - or worst, as the case may be. Most of it is but “sound and fury, signifying nothing” of eternal significance. Or, to put it another way, their activities are of eternal insignificance.

Those of us who, due to no merit of our own, find ourselves to be among the Dúnedain have a troublesome and troubling mission. It is troublesome for us and troubling for others; the latter gives birth to the former.

I will close for now. Next I hope to discuss those difference of which I earlier spoke and of the troublesome and troubling nature of a Dúnadan’s largely invisible life.

Avallónnë. First Age. - Tales should begin at the beginning if ever they are to have an end, and so too must this account of my own time with the Maia Tolkien and our time in Middle-earth begin. But, while the accounts recorded here are true, the impressions and reflections birthed by them are not necessarily so, for while I (being a Firstborn) confess to having a great interest in those called Secondborn, I nevertheless make no claim to infallibility with regards to them.

This tale grew in the telling, until it became a history of the Great War of the Ring and included many glimpses of the yet more ancient history that preceded it. It was begun soon after The Hobbit was written and before its publication in 1937; but I did not go on with this sequel, for I wished first to complete and set in order the mythology and legends of the Elder Days, which had then been taking shape for some years.”

So did Tolkien begin his notation upon his subcreation. It is not without significance that in bringing the lost history of Middle-earth to light that he would begin with a wordless thought, which then became a creative word. This is how all things came into being, whether created or subcreated: the thought was first in the Mind of God (He whom we call Eru and Illúvatar) and He spoke into existence the sum of all Creation (Ëa, the Universe; Arda, the world). Though Tolkien did labor to bring his subcreation to life, not so with God, for He needed only to think the thought and say the word and all that is then came to be.

So it is with all subcreations: it begins with a thought - for good or ill - and is manifested through intent. God has granted to His children, the Firstborn Elves and Secondborn Men alike, to share in His creativity.

Lest we fall into the error of Fëanor, however, we must take care to prevent that which we devise to be corrupted by our own bent natures. Elves and Men alike are subject to roaming wills and faithless desires, forgetting our First Love and pursuing that which cannot satisfy in the end.

All subcreations, whether physical or mental, must be a means of worshiping and glorifying God, and never the foci of our worship and devotion themselves. It is for Him alone that we have been created and only in Him alone that we will find our final destiny and joy.

I should like to say that I am immensely fond of you all, and that the past few years is too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable bloggers. I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” - (with apologies to Bilbo and J.R.R. Tolkien)

Well, a sabbatical of sorts.

Life is happening to me and one of the casualties is blogging. Unless and until I can get some important things straightened out, I won’t be doing much writing.

To squelch any rumors, this isn’t a personal issue but a professional one. Marriage, family, and everything else is fine; professionally, I’m reinventing and overhauling myself. The good news is that I’ve got more vision and energy for my practice than I have for some time: I love having the privilege of doing clinical discipleship with people. But the bad news is that it takes a lot of time and energy; consequently, blogging will be taking a holiday for an indefinite period of time. All I can promise is an infrequent post when something compels me to write.

Otherwise, this blog is going to be pretty quiet. I’ll still be stalking other blogs, but writing is far too time consuming if it is done properly.

Matthew Dickerson, in his first chapter of Following Gandalf (FG), defends J.R.R. Tolkien from the curious - not to mention spurious - charge that the author glorfies war in his history of Middle-earth and especially in the War of the Ring. In this post, I will summarizes Dickerson’s arguments - which sufficiently refute the accusation - but also discuss Tolkien’s philosophy on war as reflected in The Lord of the Rings (LOTR) and his other writings. As a veteran of World War I, Tolkien had first-hand knowledge of the horrors: several friends died in unnamed trenches in Europe during that war. Just over three decades later, as a father of two sons involved in World War II, he suffered through the long nights of a parent wondering about the well-being of his children. Thus, as a soldier and as a parent, Tolkien knew war far too well.

Undoubtedly some of my own thoughts, influenced as they especially have been of late by Tolkien, will find their way into the discussion (most of my own ideas, however, will be the subject of a subsequent post). Since I believe many Christians have an incorrect, inadequate, or incomplete understanding of war - I would include myself in this group for most of my Christian life - working through this issue is critical. Trying to come to a biblical perspective on war has been a pursuit of mine for more than three decades. I have tried to keep in mind my own personal biases and not be blindly affected by my experiences during the time of the Vietnam War; my goal in this, as in everything, is the impossible one of trying to discover the mind of God on this matter.

Hobbits and War

To effectively rebut the charge that Tolkien glorifies war, Dickerson looks at significant battles recorded by the author in The Hobbit(TH) and the LOTR. There are five battles that are considered, beginning with the Battle of Five Armies at the conclusion of TH and continuing on to the Skirmish with the Southrons, the Battle of Helm’s Deep, the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and the Battle at the Black Gate.

Dickerson identifies two keys to understanding Tolkien’s view of war: the first is the perspective of hobbits; the second is the nature of the battle itself.

A hobbit is present at four of the five battles (there is no hobbit present at Helm’s Deep) and it is from the hobbits’ thoughts that we see Tolkien’s own attitudes come to the surface. Bilbo, of course, is present at the first battle but Tolkien does not provide the reader with much in-depth detail of the fighting nor even allow the reluctant hero to witness, much less enjoy, the victory that takes place. He does the former by a literary shift and the latter by a clever incident in the plot. Dickerson notes,
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It was late last week that - though I had intended to set out on a deliberate wandering through Matthew Dickerson’s Following Gandalf - I instead got distracted and necessarily delayed. Believing it important to clarify a possible misconception regarding Tolkien and Middle-earth, I wrote an explanation of what Tolkien (and C.S. Lewis) meant when they referred to Christianity and the Gospel as “True Myth.” Having made the distinction between that which is true - the Bible - and that which merely approximates and approaches truth - The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings, Unfinished Tales, and other writings of Tolkien - I turn now to Dickerson’s book itself.

As I wrote in that earlier post, there has been no book (other than Scripture and Tolkien’s works) that has influenced, encouraged, enlightened, or informed me more about the reality and nature of Middle-earth - and, indeed, my own spiritual life - than Following Gandalf. Dickerson, who teaches at Middlebury College (VT), was director of the New England Young Writer’s Conference at Breadloaf at the time he wrote his book. Speaking of Tolkien’s influence on his own life, Dickerson said Tolkien’s writings have been

a constant, profound influence throughout my whole life, helping me to be a better thinker and a more imaginative person. And, of course, it’s not just my thinking but the training of my moral imagination to try to live out moral virtue heroically.” - (personal email)

I found the last fragments of that comment - “the training of my moral imagination” and attempting “to live out moral virtue heroically” to be a concise and insightful description of the impact Following Gandalf has had on me and those with whom I have shared and discussed the book. Hopefully, in this series of posts, I can convey a small part of that influence to you. To accomplish that, I will rely on Dickerson’s own words a great deal.

The book begins with an explanation of the title itself: Following Gandalf. Dickerson places us in Minas Tirith at a time when almost everything seems to be going wrong and allows us, along with Pippin, to capture a sense about Gandalf that might easily be overlooked. Following an exchange and interrogation involving Denethor, Gandalf, and Pippin, Tolkien writes,

Pippin glanced in some wonder at the face now close beside his own, for the sound of that laugh had been gay and merry. Yet in the wizard’s face he saw at first only lines of care and sorrow; though as he looked more intently he perceived that under all there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing, were it to gush forth.” - - ROTK, p 742

Reflecting on this intriguing passage, Dickerson asks rhetorically and immediately answers,

Could it be the case that Gandalf has some sort of wisdom or knowledge that penetrates beyond what is visible to everybody else - the desperation of the situation that is so evident to Pippin and Denethor - and enables the wizard to take hope and joy in something invisible that is nonetheless real and true? . . . Gandalf is aware that there is both a seen world and an unseen world; reality includes both a material plane and a spiritual plane. Furthermore, these two planes touch upon each other and affect each other.” - FG, p 12

Dickerson’s approach in his book is to view the story of The Lord of the Rings from Gandalf’s perspective, i.e., from the perspective of one who looks not only upon that which is seen but upon that which is not seen, as well. Gandalf’s perspective is, ultimately, an eternal perspective.

Dickerson continues,

The point of this book, however, is that Tolkien’s deep philosophical and theological convictions also course thoroughly through the veins of his work. In particular, Tolkien’s understanding of Man (male and female) as having been created in the image of a Creator - and thus not only being endowed with the possibility of real moral choice, but being given the corresponding responsibility that goes with it - is the central theme in his writing.” - FG, p 13

Even as Tolkien’s saga is timeless, so is Dickerson’s book timeless to a large extent. Nevertheless, Dickerson’s 2003 book is also timely, even as Tolkien’s was in its initial release (1955). Following Gandalf provides insight into the times during which Tolkien wrote. Along with Lewis, Tolkien in his writings was reacting to a philosophical shift and social sea change. As he draws our attention to the changes going on in our own day, Dickerson notes,

Tolkien’s basic philosophical beliefs were also in contradiction to the prevailing materialist presuppositions of modernism as well as the relativism of postmodernism, especially with respect to his views on human free will and objective morality.” - FG, p 14

Dickerson ends his introduction by illuminating two additional, major themes that occur throughout his own book as well as The Lord of the Rings:

. . . a central theme in all of Tolkien’s writing: the reality of human free will and the moral responsibility that goes with it. It is the ‘doom of choice,’ as Aragorn calls it when questioned by Éomer. . . .

Underlying this whole discussion is Tolkien’s belief that the reality of the universe involves both spiritual and physical planes: both the seen and unseen dimensions. Tolkien was challenging his readers to look beyond the temporal values of the moment to see the eternal values where the spiritual and physical planes come together: at eternity. - FG, p 17

Next: Following Gandalf . . . to war

Related Tags: Tolkien, Dickerson, Following Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings, Middle-earth, Christianity, Free Will, Human Responsibility

This is long overdue: if there has been any single book, apart from The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion, that has opened my eyes to the riches of Middle-earth, it is Matthew Dickerson’s Following Gandalf.

Although “only” 234 pages in length, Following Gandalf is packed with more insight and biblical truth than any other commentary on Tolkien of which I am aware. This is not to say that others are not valuable or insightful in their own right, but only that Dickerson’s book treats a breadth of spiritual issues with surprising depth in a relatively short work.

I have, of course, reviewed other books and will review still more in the future. Following Gandalf, however, deserves more than that, so thought-provoking as it is. So I’m going to blog my way through the book, chapter-by-chapter and, sometimes, point-by-point. I have been leading a study of Christian themes, virtues, and values in Tolkien’s writings for several months now; Following Gandalf has been the text we have used and profited from tremendously. my goal is to be able to convey some of Dickerson’s wisdom and insights in this series.

This post, however, does not address Dickerson’s work but is meant to serve as a necessary foundation for it. In this post I will spend some time discussing a critical subject in Tolkien and one that is often misunderstood, i.e., his description of the Gospel as “True Myth.” Once that has been accomplished, I will begin to work through Following Gandalf.

It is important to discuss what Tolkien meant by calling the story of salvation a “myth” because his meaning is very different from that which we have today. “Myth” or even “fairy stories” were not escapist or purely fantastical writings; for Tolkien (and C.S. Lewis) myth was a literary form that allowed for the expression of truths not able to be explained in other forms. Tolkien wrote,

After all, I believe that legends and myths are largely made of ‘truth,’ and indeed present aspects of it that can only be received in this mode; and long ago certain truths and modes of this kind were discovered and must always reappear.” (Letters, p 147)

In the following quote from his classic work “On Fairy-Stories,” Tolkien uses the term “fairy-story” as virtually synonymous with “myth.” He explains,

The Gospels contain a fairy-story, or a story of a larger kind which embraces all the essence of fairy-stories. They contain many marvels - peculiarly artistic, beautiful, and moving: ‘mythical’ in their perfect, self-contained significance; and among the marvels is the greatest and most complete conceivable eucatastrophe [the good outcome, ending, or consolation]. But this story has entered History and the primary world; the desire and aspiration of sub-creation has been raised to the fulfillment of Creation. The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of Man’s history. The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the story of the Incarnation. This story begins and ends in joy. It has pre-eminently the ‘inner consistency of reality.’ There is no tale ever told that men would rather find was true, and one which so many sceptical men have accepted as true on its own merits. For the Art of it has the supremely convincing tone of Primary Art, that is, of Creation. To reject it leads to sadness or to wrath.” (Tolkien Reader, pp 88-89)

Tolkien, and C.S. Lewis as well, believed that myth was a means of communicating truth that could not be conveyed in any other way. All myths and all religions, they argued, contained some aspect, some distorted reflection of the True Myth, which is the Gospel as revealed in the Bible. Myths - and especially intentionally pre-Christian myths such as The Lord of the Rings - were meant to reflect and point to the one Myth that has entered history and reality in the Person of Jesus Christ. God’s story - the Gospel - is found in all the distorted writings and imaginings of fallen people, people who still bear the image of God but are unable to apprehend or express the full meaning of the True Myth.
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My posting has been so sparse of late that I feel as though I need to apologize to those readers of The Lord of the Kingdom - both of you - that click by to see if I’ve gotten around to anything new. I don’t think my dearth of writing is due to the well being dry but rather to my wondering if I drink from the same well as most Christians in the cyberchurch. I’m having the same struggle at Eternal Perspectives.

Hear my confession (Part Uno): I get bored - quickly - with vast majority of the so-called discussions that take place online. Take, for example, the current skirmish that could erupt into a genuine massacre at any time. (I say “massacre” not because one side is going to so devastate the other, but because it will be yet another instance of the Name of Christ being sullied as two or more bloggers attempt to tear theological limb from theological limb from one another. Shades of the Black K-nig-it. Not a great testimony to either the love or unity to which we are commanded.)

The simmering feud to which I’m referring, of course, is the “Name-that-Beast of the Week in Revelation” between Tim Challies, Joe Carter, Andy Jackson, and the sometimes-incindiary posts of John Schroeder. Tim says the Roman Church “seems to be,” “might be,” “could be” the Beast, or, uh, antichrist, I mean some metaphorical being from John’s final writings, while Andy says, “no way.” Joe takes Tim to task for being illogical in his post and John faults Tim specifically and generally for hedging his statements behind statements with plausible deniability. iMonk comments that he’s in favor of people saying what they mean and meaning what they say, i.e., speaking dogmatically and not tiptoeing around. This is not surprising coming from Michael, who is anything but hypocritical in this regard and could be the poster boy for straight talking - even if sometimes his message might be a tad bent. Like mine. And yours.

Regardless, I find all of this tediously boring and an utter waste of time and talent. Is this what Paul meant when he told us that we should be “making the most of your time, because the days are evil”? I seriously doubt it.

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I have been able to accurately identify the Beast of Revelation. After years to exegetical, historical, and theological work - and also reading the Gnostic gospels and even The Da Vinci Code - I determine that the Beast of Revelation is Alec Baldwin, erstwhile actor and expert on everything.

(Now, I could have picked Ann Coulter except (a) the Beast seems to be male and, unless I need new glasses, there’s not much about Ann that looks masculine, and (b) I like Ann a lot more than I like Alec. I’m also confident that some of you have noticed that I put Alec on the right and Ann on the left: this is what’s known as irony in my own sardonic, iconoclastic mind.)

At any rate, so I determine beyond any doubt that the Beast of Revelation is Alec Baldwin - and maybe even that Ann Coulter is the whore of Babylon. Now what? What do I, as a Christian, do about this amazing discovery? First, of course, being pretribulational in my theology, I have to make some changes to my eschatology. Nothing too earth-shattering about that. I also might have to change my feelings about Ann but, again, it’s not like we exchange Christmas cards or she has me on speed dial.

So what’s the point? Knowing the identity of the Beast or whore doesn’t change my life one bit: I’m no more responsible now than previously to love people, share the gospel, care for the poor and needy, be a faithful steward of creation, and live a holy life. The only benefit, as far as I can tell, is that I have ruled out myself as either the Beast or the whore, along with a lot of others. I suppose I’m freed from having to love Alec or Ann, but - and this is a horrible confession (Part Dos) I am about to make - I really don’t pray for either one of them anyway.

That may make me a horrible Christian but, thanks to my discovery, it doesn’t make me the Beast or the whore.

Whew!

So I languish in my thoughts about whether or not to spend my time trying to talk sense into people who know more than they understand or need to establish an identity by being contrary. I’m not sure that is the wisest investment of my time or a practice of “making the most of” my time during these evil days.

Thus, posting may continue to be sparse. When I do write something, however, I hope it will be something of a reality check for those of you who do read. One of my missions, as described in the header of Eternal Perspectives, is “searching for sanity in a Christian culture gone mad.”

When the patients are running the psych ward, it’s not easy.

Related Tags: Catholic, Beast, Antichrist, Revelation