"The Lord of the Rings" and Christlike Characters

Image by Pau Llopart Cervello from Pixabay

 

In my MFA thesis, I surveyed multiple fantasy works that convey redemption and hope despite suffering and evil in the world. All the books I referenced had a Christ figure except one: The Lord of the Rings.  

Should we take this to mean Tolkien’s work failed to show the hope we have in Christ?

Tolkien’s epic does not have a distinct Christ figure like Aslan, Harry Potter, or Janner Wingfeather. But that was not his aim. He did not appreciate allegory and stated that his work of mythology was not an allegorical story. This is why we do not find a character who sacrificially gave his life to bring redemption to others – as authors such as C. S. Lewis, J. K. Rowling, and Andrew Peterson included in their stories.

But what he did with his characters was give many of them Christlike characteristics. And we would expect this from an author like Tolkien, who admitted that his deeply held beliefs impacted the stories he created (and which all people do whether they acknowledge it or not; worldview impacts what we create). As he wrote in a letter, “The Lord of the Rings is of course a fundamentally religious and Catholic work; unconsciously so at first, but consciously in the revision” (The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, 109). There is no single Christ figure in The Lord of the Rings, but there are Christlike characters – individuals who provide us with multiple pictures of Jesus.

Many scholars commonly focus on a triad of characters that depict different aspects of Christ. Author and philosopher Peter Kreeft is known for this view, in which Jesus is portrayed through the figures of Prophet (Gandalf), Priest (Frodo), and King (Aragorn). The actions of these characters reflect the various offices of the Lord Jesus, and thus, present a multi-faceted depiction of Christ.  

I heartily agree that these characters give us a picture of Christ. Who can deny that Aragorn, the King who brings healing, is Christlike in his role in the book? Or that Frodo, the Ringbearer who carried the burden of the evil of Sauron, can empathize with those under the ring's power and influence? Gandalf certainly comes close to being a Christ figure by descending to the depths, only to rise again as Gandalf the White (though Aragorn and Frodo also passed through the shadow). However, many other characters display Christlikeness.   

Two such overlooked characters are Samwise Gamgee and Faramir.

More recently, Philip Ryken included Sam into the picture of Priest alongside Frodo, as addressed in his book The Messiah Comes to Middle-Earth. But going beyond the Prophet, Priest, and King figures, I believe Sam stands out most as a character marked by Christlike servanthood. He is Frodo’s servant and gardener, and not initially esteemed on the same level as his master. Yet, he is instrumental in the task of destroying the ring. If not for Sam, who single-handedly rescued Frodo from Shelob and the Orcs, and carried him part of the way to Mount Doom, Frodo would have never survived the quest. Sam’s actions mirror those of Christ, who became a servant to save us (Mark 10:45; Philippians 2:7-11).   

The work of Sam as a gardener also reflects Christ. Sam was working to care for and tend to plants before he went on the quest with Frodo, but this role is heightened on his return to the Shire. Numerous trees had been lost under Saruman’s reign over the hobbits. These were beloved and old trees that would not be easily replaced. Yet, Sam takes on the work of restoration and renewal using the gift of a box from Galadriel which held special dust and a seed: “So Sam planted saplings where specially beautiful or beloved trees had been destroyed, and he put a grain of the precious dust in the soil at the root of each” (The Return of the King, 330). This picture of bringing life and healing from destruction and death points to the redeeming work of Jesus in our lives.

Another Christlike character in Tolkien’s epic is Faramir. He is not the favored son of Denethor, though he is arguably the greater of the two brothers. Sam compares him to Gandalf because of his wisdom, though Faramir attributes this quality to his Numenorean ancestry. Unlike Boromir, Faramir rejects the temptation of the ring because he has no desire to wield power over others. His people had to adopt war as a way of survival, but he does not delight in the use of force and weapons. As he said, “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 Numenor” (The Two Towers, 314).

Honorably, he offers Frodo aid and shows mercy to Gollum – though he had the right to take the creature’s life. Faramir continually stands by his beliefs in loyalty, courage, and honor, even going so far as to put himself in peril to serve his father, who favored his brother over him. Boromir was known for prowess and renown in war, but Faramir is a man of wisdom who shows strength by offering mercy and desiring to uphold life, rather than take it. He might not be as widely discussed as other characters. However, Faramir, like Sam, displays attitudes and actions that resemble the love and wisdom of Jesus. 

What is unique about Tolkien’s creation of characters is that they reflect Christ while also giving us examples to follow. We receive a lesson in mercy by observing Frodo’s change of heart and his willingness to pity those who are enslaved to the evil of Sauron. From Sam, we see what it means to love and serve another in the truest form of friendship – despite suffering and hardship. Humbleness is evident in Aragorn, who though the rightful king as the heir of Isildur, willingly serves his people by bringing healing. Faramir shows us that protecting and cultivating life is more honorable than skill in war or seeking prominence (as he helps Eowyn learn). All these characters show us glimpses of Jesus and what it means to be Christlike, inviting us to travel alongside them to learn to emulate the Savior.

Although a Jesus figure is not present in Tolkien’s Middle-Earth epic, the story is so infused with Christlike characters and themes that it glorifies and magnifies the Savior. It is truly a Christian work that captures what Tolkien termed as eucatastrophe, a sudden joyous turn, poignant as grief – which is exemplified in the greatest Story of the Lord Jesus’ death and resurrection.   

Works Cited

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien. Edited by Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013. EBSCO.

-- The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. Ballantine, 2012.

-- The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Ballantine, 2012.

The Strength of Mercy

 

Image by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay

I have been reading Michael Morpurgo’s stories for over a decade now, and what I appreciate most about his works is that they make me think about important issues. A lot of his books deal with war, such as in Toro! Toro! or the classic War Horse. And although these stories are works of fiction, they are based on historical events. I have been personally challenged to reevaluate my beliefs about war after reading Morpurgo’s stories.

An Eagle in the Snow is another such book. War is a major aspect of the story, and we see depictions of the suffering that the killings and bombings caused during both world wars. But more than anything, I believe an overarching theme in this story is the strength of mercy.

The book follows the story of Billy (based on a real soldier in WWI named William Tandey). In the story, he spares the life of a German soldier after a successful attack. So many men had already died that day, on both sides, and he did not think the man was a threat. Many years later, though, he realizes that the man he had spared was none other than Adolf Hitler. He becomes consumed with guilt over his part in allowing Hitler to live and cause terrible suffering. Eventually, this drives him to create a new plan – one which involves doing what he thinks he should have done earlier. To kill Hitler.

But even then, he cannot do it.

The reader is left to decide what he or she thinks about Billy’s choice. Was he right in showing mercy? Should we fight evil with evil, or is mercy and a dedication to goodness more powerful?

Too often, I think people view compassion and mercy as weaknesses. We might be tempted to read the story of Billy and assume he was a coward. Surely, the hero should slay the villain!

Often, they do. As I thought about this story, though, I could not help but think of another story with themes of mercy, written by a man who served in WWI and lived through both wars. I am reminded of how, in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, Frodo regretted Bilbo’s sparing of Gollum’s life. He was convinced that Bilbo should have killed the terrible creature when he had the chance. But then Gandalf shares his wisdom.

As he says, “Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need … Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many – yours not least” (Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, 65-66).

Did Hitler, like Gollum, deserve death? Yes, but as Gandalf said, there are many who deserve to die but live. Evil people often thrive in the world while those who seek to do right die. The real question is what are we to do with the evil we see around us? We can either multiply it by choosing to fight evil with evil or seek to do good with the time we have been given. To cultivate healing and light in our broken, dark world.

There is more strength and virtue in showing mercy than in demonstrating force. The mercy that held Billy’s hand that day was the same mercy that made him pause and help a girl affected by the war when he was a soldier. And to help his friends when they were injured. Likewise, the pity of Bilbo influenced Frodo, who came to pity Gollum, and even Saurman and Wormtongue.

Of course, we should not remain silent about evil but name it for what it is. We need to speak up against injustice and oppression, serving as a voice for the voiceless. However, we are meant to overcome evil with good. As 1 Peter 3:9 says, “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing” (NIV).

Choosing to show mercy is an act of defying the darkness in the world. It does not make us weak. Rather, mercy is a strength of those who dare to believe that doing good and showing Christlike love is more powerful than any evil in the world.  

 

Works Cited

Morpurgo, Michael. An Eagle in the Snow. Square Fish, 2015.

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Del Rey, 2012.

 

 

  

 

Loving Our Neighbors as Writers

 

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

    A writer’s job is often lonely work. Sitting behind a computer, typing and retyping sentences, we forget that people will one day read our words. A face will gaze at a screen, a booklet, or a novel that contains our words. This is not an empty face – one that symbolizes the crowds – but the face of a person. Someone who has opinions, dreams, questions, and emotions.

    A real person, not a theory, will read and process the stories we create or the articles we craft.

    For this reason, a writer’s work has a relational component. The words we weave together touch the lives of people. We can easily forget this in the wild flurry of creativity. All we see is the raw creation in our hands as we sit alone and are blinded to any marks of darkness or ill intent.

    Emily Byrd Starr experiences this in Emily Climbs when she writes a mocking obituary poem about old Peter DeGeer to spite her Aunt Elizabeth. In sheer delight at her creation, she takes the poem to her teacher, Mr. Carpenter, and proudly presents it to him. She soon realizes her mistake when he asks her if such writing is worthwhile. 

    As he told her, “There is a place for satire – there are gangrenes that can only be burned out – but leave the burning to the great geniuses. It’s better to heal than hurt. We failures know that … Be merciful to the failures, Emily. Satirize wickedness if you must – but pity weakness” (Montgomery 25). She had not only created hateful, mocking words about a man who had recently died but had also hurt her friend who already felt like a failure.       

    To not consider the impact of our words, and to use them to wound instead of to heal, shows we do not care about others. We do not love our neighbor.

    During my MFA degree program, I studied under a professor who reminds me somewhat of Mr. Carpenter from the Emily of New Moon series. He had a way of helping students see reality and truth, just as Emily's teacher did. His classes introduced me to authors who could paint scenes that transformed ordinary moments into something magical, but also writers who used their craft to create stories that left me shaking my head, wondering why anyone would want to make something so vulgar and ugly. In his lectures, he taught literature and the craft of writing while drawing the students back into a biblical framework for writing. He often asked jarring questions – ones that awakened us to the reality that we have an audience of living, breathing humans. What we write will affect them, just as I was affected by the stories of the authors he assigned us to read. 

    “How can you love your neighbor through your writing?” He asked in multiple of his lectures.

    Loving our readers, as our Savior wants, means writing the best we can with clarity and preciseness. However, loving our readers also means much more. As I pondered this instruction, I knew it also meant thinking of my tone and intent in a piece. Do I come across as sarcastic, angry, or condescending in my writing? Am I fair in my presentation of arguments, or am I tilting my paper in favor of the position I favor? Is the story I am writing something beautiful, true, and good? Not that I am ignoring the harsh realities in life or the brokenness in the world. Rather, I should write with the knowledge that my writing can influence people for good or evil. Will I point them toward the light or push them farther into the darkness?

    Let us not deceive ourselves into thinking that creativity and writing are excluded from questions of morality. What people fill their eyes, ears, and minds influences their actions. Although readers have free will and choose to read the things they do, writers carry a responsibility. If what we have written wounds someone, or leads them to stumble into sin, then our Lord will hold us accountable on the day of judgment (2 Corinthians 5:10). He will tell us that we had not loved our neighbor – or Him for that matter – when we chose to stuff books and articles with words of hate, bitterness, or vulgarity.

    A writer’s job is a responsibility. We must choose what to do with the keypad or pen that sits in front of us. Will we write with a love for others, directing them to the Light? Or will we allow darkness to creep out of our hearts and onto the page to infect more people? 

    I pray that each of us will choose love. 

“If I can write an unkind letter, speak an unkind word, think an unkind thought without grief and shame, then I know nothing of Calvary love” (Amy Carmichael, If, 15). 

Sources

Carmichael, Amy. If. CLC Publications, 2018.

Montgomery, L. M. Emily Climbs. Virago, 2014.

Further Reading

• Practicing discernment in what we choose to read is important. Randy Alcorn has an excellent blog post about this, called “What You Read Builds Who You Are,” and provides insights worth considering.
• Katelyn J. Dixon shares her thoughts on the power of words in this beautifully written essay, “The Given Word” on Renovaré.
• As we write, or speak, to others, we are wise to pray and ask for the Lord’s help. We are dependent on Him in all areas of life. In “The Writer’s Prayer,” Dan Balow provides some written prayers we can use to get started. Consider also reading St. Thomas Aquinas’ “A Prayer Before Study.”
• In a previous blog post, “The Power of Words,” I wrote about the impact that writing and words can have on our lives. Often, the art we create can influence people in ways we do not expect.  
• One of the stories I read in a class taught by the professor I mentioned in this post inspired a New Year’s essay centered around Leo Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilych. Living with an eternal mindset is important for us all, including writers.