I remember the first time that I read JRR Tolkien’s masterwork,
The Lord of the Rings
. I had always enjoyed reading, but I had never encountered anything like this. I’d heard of this work, but had avoided it because it was “fantasy,” and I thought myself too earnest for such “escapism.” I was wrong — not about my earnestness, but about the book being fantasy and escapism. Here I encountered themes which deeply resonated with my young Christian soul: life & death, friendship & covenant, mission, community, self-sacrifice, and most importantly, providence and hope.
These resonances were the result of Tolkien’s own faith. Tolkien was a devout Christian and a faithful follower of Jesus, bearing witness in his life, vocation, and friendships to God’s unfurling goodness in the midst of great hardship. In fact, C.S. Lewis converted to Christianity in 1931 from atheism, following a long discussion on a late-night stroll along Addison's Walk in Oxford with his close friends Tolkien and Hugo Dyson.
For those who aren’t familiar with
The Lord of the Rings
, I can’t really offer much of a synopsis. What I can say is that in this story, the fate of the world is resting upon the shoulders of the most unlikely character, a hobbit called Frodo Baggins. He has been charged with the insurmountable task of carrying a terrifying weapon, a Ring of Power, forged for the conquest of the world, into the realm of the enemy, to the only place it can be destroyed.
The world is a very big place and Frodo is only three feet tall. I can’t tell you how much I have identified with Frodo in these past weeks; so small in so big a world. You might feel the same. Today and next Wednesday, I am writing a two-part Word of Encouragement; drawing on the Christian wisdom of JRR Tolkien. (I can’t promise it will be just two parts.)
Tolkien served in the First World War. He lost many friends on the front. That which we have lost becomes precious to us, so when Tolkien was writing his novel, he gave Frodo a company of friends, a Fellowship, to help him accomplish his mission. The wisest of which was an ancient wizard called Gandalf.
In a moment of deep doubt and gravity, the small Hobbit confesses what he has been feeling all along: “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened,” he tells Gandalf.
Gandalf’s reply has echoed into my soul, “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
Time. So much of it. All that we have to decide is what to do with it. In the Book of Esther, Mordecai, tells his niece, who has the opportunity to save many souls at some cost to herself, “And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” This time is in many ways unique to this generation, and in other ways, it is shared. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.
Each of us wish, with Frodo, that none of this had happened, but I am proud to belong to a parish that has risen to the time and has decided to serve each other with dignity and sacrifice, to the honor and glory of God.
I am proud to be a part of your Fellowship.
Peter+
