in Ithilien


Ithilien. March 9, Shire Year, 1419. - Skirting the mountains of Mordor, Frodo, Sam and Gollum, have turned away from the Black Gates at Morannon to travel south to the Stairs of Cirith Ungol. As they travel south, they come at last to a grove of trees, enter in,

and found that they stood in a great roofless ring, open in the middle to the sombre sky; and the spaces between their immense boles were like the great dark arches of some ruined hall. In the very centre four ways met. Behind them lay the road to the Morannon; before them it ran out again upon its long journey south; to their right the road from old Osgiliath came climbing up, and crossing, passed out eastward into darkness: the fourth way, the road they were to take.”

The fourth way is the way to the Stairs of Cirith Ungol, a little-used path into Mordor, the stronghold of Sauron the Great. There must have been in Frodo some thought of or temptation to continuing south and away from Mordor or to turning west and make for Minas Tirith where perhaps Gandalf, Aragorn, and others of their company might be found. Going back north to the Black Gate was unthinkable. But Frodo chose to travel the road that held the least hope of accomplishing his mission: he chose the road to the east, past Minas Morgul, to the Stairs of Cirith Ungol, and ultimately to Mordor and Mt. Doom.

Frodo’s choice is a stark example of the importance of decisions that we all make everyday. Although Frodo had decided at Rivendell to take the burden of the One Ring and committed to destroy it in the fires of Mt. Doom, he was still plagued with decisions to be made along the way: whom to trust, which way to go, when to strike, and when to be merciful.

At his blog, Jollyblogger has posted a concise sentence about self-absorption, Just a Random Thought. As I said in my comment there, it is quite heuristic and touches the fringe of the broad cloth of decision-making.

It is how I think in moments of introspection - about me, what I want and what I need - that is determinative. When that kind of self-reflective thinking comes into my head, I too am standing at a crossroads: follow the Spirit or follow the flesh; follow my own desires or reaffirm the decision I made long ago when I submitted to the Lordship of my Savior, Jesus Christ.

If I’m thinking about all that Christ has done in my life, recognizing my wants as manifestations of the flesh, and learning to be content with God meeting my basic needs - if I think along those lines, I’m OK. It’s when I leave the Holy Spirit out of my thinking - i.e., I don’t allow Him to correct and re-direct my thoughts - that I get into a grey or blue mood. I ignore He whom I have chosen as my Lord and run blindly down the wrong path, the path the holds forth the empty promise of contentment and peace.

At least for me, it’s the perspectival path I choose to take that makes all the difference. Will I walk after the Spirit or after the flesh? Will I have a temporal or eternal perspective?

It’s another crossroad every day, every hour, and sometimes many times an hour. In almost every situation, there is a clear choice about which path I need to follow and which I want to follow. I comes down to whether or not I honor my commitment to Christ made 30+ years ago.



Namárië.

I was reading earlier today at Doug’s blog - which I typically do every day - and came across his post “From Fear to Sin.” It is an interesting read in itself but it also reminded me of a verse and an ensuing study I did this week; the study, in turn, reminded me of a statement of Faramir in The Two Towers. The verse - Ps 99.1 - first:

The LORD reigns, let the peoples tremble;
He is enthroned above the cherubim, let the earth shake!”

“Tremble” was not the word I was anticipating as I read this verse for the first time in a long (far too long) time. But there it was: “tremble.” I gathered my Hebrew weapons tools around me and set about trying to understand what the psalmist was saying and if, as he seems to say, I should actually tremble because Yahweh reigns.

My first thought was to understand “peoples” and “earth” as referring to those outside of Israel, i.e., those who are not the chosen Children of God. This would be an acceptable reading, I believe, since the terms often mean just that. The problem, sadly, is that later in the same psalm the writer hints at the contextual meaning of “tremble” and “shake.” Reflecting on the history of God’s work with Moses, Aaron, and Samuel, he says in v. 8:

O LORD our God, You answered them;
You were a forgiving God to them,
And yet an avenger of their evil deeds.”

So while I could understand “peoples” as referring to nonbelievers, it doesn’t seem to be consistent with the overall tenor of the psalm.

Turning to the lexicons reinforced the translation I was reading (NASB). The New International Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis explains “tremble”:

(ragaz), q. agitate, quiver, shake, excite; hi. make shake, rouse up, agitate; hitp. excite oneself”

Another says of the word,

tremble, quake, rage, quiver, be agitated, be excited, be perturbed
1a) (Qal) to quake, be disquieted, be excited, be perturbed”

Since the form of the verb is Qal and it is in the imperfect tense, it likely means not only to tremble but to keep on trembling. I noted, though, that the word “excite” or “excited” appeared in both definitions and wondered if that were not the meaning intended by the author.

Probably not: the second line of the first verse of the psalm, like much of Hebrew poetry in the Old Testament, restates and underscores the meaning of the first. “Reigned” is mirrored by “enthroned,” “peoples” by “earth,” and “tremble” by “shake.” I went back to the lexicons once again, only to discover that the word “shake” (Heb., nuwt)

occurs only in Psalm 99:1, where it describes the quaking of the earth because of the reigning theophanic presence of Yahweh amidst the cherubim. It is synonymously parallel with the more frequently occurring [ragaz], which means to tremble or be agitated.” - NIDOTTE

The conclusion seems inescapable: people - believers included - should tremble at the realization that Yahweh reigns over His kingdom. But how, I wondered, should I reconcile this with some of Doug’s points as well as Heb 4.16 and 12.18-24?

Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

For you have not come to a mountain that can be touched and to a blazing fire, and to darkness and gloom and whirlwind,
and to the blast of a trumpet and the sound of words which sound was such that those who heard begged that no further word be spoken to them.
For they could not bear the command, “IF EVEN A BEAST TOUCHES THE MOUNTAIN, IT WILL BE STONED.”
And so terrible was the sight, that Moses said, “I AM FULL OF FEAR and trembling.”
But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to myriads of angels,
to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect,
and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood, which speaks better than the blood of Abel.”

On the one hand, i.e., in the OT, we are told to “tremble” and “shake,” but on the other - the NT - we are told to have confidence or boldness, and our experience with God is contrasted with that of the people in Moses’ day.

The reconciliation, perhaps, is found at least in part in Tolkien and the words he puts in the mouth of Faramir, one of the wise of Middle-earth. Talking with Frodo prior to taking the hobbits to Henneth Annûn, he reflects on the necessity of war and the greatness that once was Minas Tirith and the Kingdom of Gondor:

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 may fear the dignity of a man, old and wise.” (emphasis mine)

Has Tolkien given us a glimpse into the fear that Christians are to have for God? Are we to fear Him in the same sense that we fear the greatness of a good, kind, yet old and wise man? There is something intimidating when we stand in the presence of such an individual: we fear no physical harm, but we are aware of the greatness of insight and wisdom such people possess. We are humbled in their presence, acutely aware of our own ignorance and foolishness. We are comforted by their benevolence yet tremble at the power of wisdom they have achieved.

Or, I should say, so should we respond in the presence of such godly people. Too often we do not, treating as common an individual who has walked long with God and learned humbly from Him things that we cannot yet imagine. It is a privilege, not a right, to listen to and learn from them. The respect they are due is tremendous, though they themselves eschew it.

If this is the case when we consider the wisdom and spiritual power of godly people, how much more should we tremble and shake in the presence of the Source of all wisdom, insight, power, and knowledge? He is, by His own choosing, benevolent and tender towards us but He sacrifices none of His greatness in doing so.

Like the psalmist, we ought to tremble and shake - ought to be unnerved - when we consider the King who reigns over us. But as Faramir suggests, we should fear because of the dignity and wisdom that Yahweh alone possesses infinitely.



Namárië.