5. HOPE AND SORROW
Perhaps the greatest gift Tolkien gives to modern man is a recovery of our human longing—that inexplicable desire of finite man for the infiinite. (Aristotle struggles to figure this out toward the end of his Ethics). I always find, after reading the book or watching the movies, an awakened longing for glory, battle, nobility, elf-magic, heroism, etc. When I stumbled upon the Hobbit when I was 10—that was an awesome life canging world opening experience. But if course the material things that trigger that longing isn’t really the true object—the true object is God, the Divine. Most of the characters manifest to some degree this deep longing. After leaving Lothlorien, Legolas says,
“Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running streams. But I count you blessed, Gimli, son of Gloin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlorien shall remain ever clear and sustained in your hear, and shall neith fade nor grow stale. “ and Gimli replies.. ‘I thank you…yet Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror…”
A commentator on LotR, tells of a 6thgrader who read LotR and then cried for two days; he says, “I think it must have been a cry for life and meaning and joy from the wasteland.” Joy—it requires life with meaning, but unfortunately the wasteland that is modern society,with its emphasis on tolerance and self-esteem, requires the very opposite, that is, no objective meaning. Because truth entails the possibilty that you are wrong, and that’s just unpleasant. Much better to assign our own arbitrary values in whatever manner makes us happy-for-now, since it’s not as if any of it matters in the long run anyway. The pluralism preached in schools and media today, while it may be motivated by good enough intentions, really eradicates the possibility of meaning. The only way for everyone to be equally right is if everyone is wrong, and if that’s what’s considered best for society, to promote and ensure everyone peaceably enduring in their wrongness, society won’t last long. Anything grounded in so weak a foundation is doomed to self-destruction. And we’re well on our way, now 39 years into the genocide of the unborn, with all the moral decline in other areas that naturally goes with a selfish, subjectivist ethic.
“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all the lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” (Haldir the elf of Lothlorien)
“there was sorrow then too, and gathering dark, but great valour, and great deeds that were not wholly vain”.
Something that is quite hard to understand, for Americans especially, is the strange relation between sorrow and hope. And I say ‘especially for Americans’ because of something Viktor Frankl observes; he says at the end of man’s search for meaning that Europeans are rather confused by American’s weird obsession with being happy all the time. True happiness only comes from doing the right thing, living a good life—in other words, there are about a million more important things one has to figure out and do in order to even be on the way to happiness- focusing on ‘being happy’ is not one of them, but an almost sure guarantee that you’ll never get there. Aristotle saw this too.
With this misguided focus on happiness as opposed to the substance that leads to it, it is not hard to see why the sorrow-hope connection is often missed. True hope is not silly optimism—the Fellowship had little hope that they would actually succeed, yet they marched on, because it was the good and noble and right thing to do. I’m sure they all would have prefered to spend what was most likely their last days doing anything else, but that wasn’t really an option. Sure, it was with in their physical capability to drop their weapons and run home to the woods or moutnains or Shire, but their nobility and purity of heart wouldn’t really allow it. What kept them to their noble task at hand was not chance of success, but faith in a higher ordering, a bigger story, a grand narrative that they had a part to play, however it ended up for them. This is what hope is: trust in a greater deeper meaning to things; such hope gives rise to indominatble courage, a new strength as shown by the little Hallfling heroes:
At the Black Gate Frodo says, “I am commanded to go to the land of Mordor, and therefore I shall go. If there is only one way, then I must take it. What comes after must come.”
and later, within mordor, Sam thinks to himself, “So that was the job I felt I had to do when I started, help Mr. Frodo to the last step and then die with him? Well, if that is the job, then I must do it. …But even as hope died in him, or seemed to die, it was turned to a new strength.”
It is only when hope is placed beyond the material results, beyond one’s personal well-being, that the strength and courage necessary to pick up one’s Cross and follow Christ (which is really what the LotR is all about) is possible. Sorrow and sadness is inescabable in this vale of tears, but it is sorrow accepted rightly that enables true, deep hope and joy as well. In the Silmarillion, which tells of Creation of middle earth through divine music, Tolkien describes one of the subcreator angel gods in a passage that to me is particularly enlightening on the subject of sorrow:
Mightier than Este is Nienna… she dwells alone. She is acquainted with grief, and mourns every wound that Arda has suffered in the marring of Melkor. So great was her sorrow, as the Music unfolded, that her song turned to lamentation long before its end, and the sound of mourning was woven into the themes of the World before it began. But she does not weep for herself; and those who hearken to her learn pity, and endurance in hope. Her halls are west of West, upon the borders of the world; and she comes seldom to the city of Valimar where all is glad. She goes rather to the halls of Mandos, which are near to her own; and all those who wait in Mandos cry to her, for she brings strength to the spirit and turns sorrow to wisdom. The windows of her house look outward from the walls of the world.
strength, wisdom, hope, pity, are all fruit of grief and mourning. There is a greatnobility in such suffering thatis overlooked in modern culture. We tend to want to live always in easy cheerfulness, but it often comes at the loss of wisdom, strength, pity, hope.
There is also a deep joy that comes with sorrow:
“O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!’ and then he wept.
And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all men were hushed. And he sang to them, now in elven tongue, now in the speech of the west, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and the tears are the very wine of blessedness” (933)
X. THE RING and THE CROSS
The LofR is a story of spiritual warfare. Both the battles on the fields and interior. A great depiction of this coems toward the end of the Fellowship, when Frodo has put on the Ring to escape Boromir, and is tempted to submit to the Eye of Sauron. “The two powers strove in him… For a moment, perfectly balanced between their pierciing points, he writhed, tormented. Suddenly he was aware of himself again. Frodo, neither the Voice nor the Eye: free to choose, and with one remaining instant to do so. He took the Ring off his finger. He was kneeling in clear sunlight before the high seat. A black shadow seemed to pass like an arm above him ..then all the sky was clean and blue and birds sang in every tree. ”
Again, the Lord of the Rings is an alarm clock, an awakening to reality. And it is a much needed wake up call. John Henry Newman wrote that “absorbed in the thought of the life to come are they who really and heartily receive the words of Christ and His Apostles. Yet to this state of mind, and therefore to this true knowledge, the multitude of men called Christians are certainly strangers; a thick veil is drawn over their eyes; and in spite of their being able to talk of the doctrine, they are as if they never had heard of it. They go on just as the heathen did of old: they eat, they drink; or they amuse themselves in vanities, and live in the world, without fear and without sorrow, just as if God had not declared that their conduct in this life would decide their destiny in the next; just as if they either had no souls, or had nothing or little to do with the saving of them, which was the creed of the heathen.” Tolkien’s imaginative work does more to remove this ‘thick veil’ from our eyes than a lot of nonfiction ever could. Fairy tales, as Tolkien, Lewis, Kreeft insist, sneak past the often prideful and overrationalized mind to the soft heart and subtly work conversion before the mind realizes what’s going on, by awakening the longing for something more…
That something more, is of course, again, God. Kreeft says, “Very subtly, yet very deeply, LotR really points to Christ. That is why its central symbol is the Ring: it is the exact opposite of the Cross”. The Ring, sin, pride, power, is closed in on itself, and empty. The cross is open to all the world, and full of God’s infinite love. The ring corrupts and enslaves, the cross sets us free.
Since it is the feast of Elizabeth Ann Seton today, [or was the day I gave this talk] I thought I’d end with a quote from her that is actually rather fitting for what I have tried to bring out of Lord of the Rings in relation to Catholic truth: She says, “We know certainly that our God calls us to a holy life. We know that he gives us every grace, every abundant grace; and [important part:] though we are so weak of ourselves, this grace is able to carry us through every obstacle and difficulty” With God’s grace, even a couple little hobbits—really, only a couple humble hobbits– can make it to Mt. Doom and back.