with Gandalf


Everybody needs a wizard in their life.

Bilbo had Gandalf, as did Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and a host of others in Middle-earth. We all need one.

By wizard I mean this: someone who sees things more clearly, more eternally, more profoundly than you. Someone who knows God in ways you don’t know Him, and is able to inspire you to know Him better than you do.

I was blessed enough to be introduced to the preaching of Haddon Robinson more than three decades ago. When I first heard him, it was via the tape ministry of Believers Chapel in Dallas while Robinson was teaching preaching at Dallas Theological Seminary. When he moved to Denver Seminary to become president of that institution, I went there to study him and be influenced by him.

As I wrote on my other blog, I only talked with Haddon once. But that had nothing to do with how God used him in my life. I went to Denver because I knew that Robinson knew God in ways I did not know God, and I wanted to be around him. I was not disappointed.

Haddon Robinson has been my Gandalf. The wizard’s job, it is to be remembered, is not to do the work or fighting for others, but to awaken and encourage them to do what they must. The wizard instructs and corrects, but he primarily inspires. Gandalf’s impact is seen in the likes of Faramir who, although only vaguely familiar with the wizard personally, nevertheless reminded others of the wizard.

Faramir followed in the footsteps and character of Gandalf, the angel of Eru. Hopefully, in some small but significant way I have followed Haddon Robinson as he has followed Christ.



Namárië.

Christianity Today has a good article by Mark Moring posted today entitled (oddly enough) “Whither Frodo and Jesus?.” It questions the omission of the LOTR and any movies regarding Jesus in AFI’s list of 100 most inspirational films. Here’s the teaser:

How could the American Film Institute have missed The Return of the King when picking its list of the 100 Most Inspiring Films of All Time? And not a single movie about Jesus? What’s up with THAT?



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 lotr (135).jpgGandalf, 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.



Namárië.

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.



Namárië.