“There, peeping among
the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star
twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of
the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold,
the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing
thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.” ~J.R.R.
Tolkien, The Return of the King
Taking the words from my diary after watching “The Lord of
the Rings” trilogy directed by Peter Jackson over the weekend, my feelings were
thus:
“Just finished watching ‘The Lord of the Rings’. Again.
Those movies still grip my heart and shred it to pieces.”
This latest viewing of my second-favorite story of all time
was one of the more profound experiences that I have had with the world of
Middle Earth. Challenging myself to watch the characters’ eyes (I tend to watch
jaw/mouth movement more than keeping track of those fascinating windows to the
soul, so this was an opportunity to practice better habits) I found myself
analyzing the characters more deeply than I might have otherwise. Some new
perspectives were formed, and as tears escaped my eyes at multiple poignant
moments, I felt a profound gratitude for the lessons and examples of beauty and
sacrifice that have been so formative in my life. Tolkien’s genius is complex; a
multi-faceted gem that bears examination from numerous angles.
In recent weeks I have felt drawn to a deeper study of my
faith. Driven by a desire to learn more accurately the intricacies of the
Catholic faith I profess, to devote more effort and humility to my journey of
prayer, and to open my heart to notice and act on the possibilities to do good in
the world around me. Perhaps because of this recent fascination, I had an idea
while watching LOTR that each character, though not an allegorical parallel to
any specific figures in Catholicism or history, has as a fundamental drive in
their character a single characteristic representative of the human and divine
love of Jesus Christ.
Sound a little far-fetched? Allow me to explain myself.
Let’s look at Frodo, as perhaps the most obvious example.
Caught up in a situation beyond his control, he takes the burden of the ring
upon himself, determined to destroy evil for the salvation of Middle Earth even
at the expense of himself.
If this doesn’t make you think of Jesus becoming human,
dying to save us from our sins and
destroying death forever, then I’m not sure what will. To clarify, however, I
do not see Frodo as a completely Christ-like figure; rather, he possesses this
one anomalous trait of seemingly divine quality, while the rest of his
character displays flaws that are more relatable.
Another principle character that deserves recognition is
Aragorn, the lost king who struggles to accept his inheritance and role of
leadership. While we could delve into his intense humility being a type of
pride, but I want to focus on the part where he embraces his role as king: he
returns to Gondor first as a healer, (something only seen in a tiny scene in
the extended DVD) an ancient prophecy that he fulfills. Aragorn heals the wounded
and calls them back to life. The white tree, the tree of the king that
represents the life of the kingdom, blooms upon his return. Yes, Aragorn leads
armies and fights literal battles, but it is in his role of reestablishing a
kingdom, rebuilding a world of hope and peace, that I see the most profound
element reminiscent of Christ.
Gandalf is another obvious example of Christ-like
peculiarity: he dies and comes back to life, glorified and more powerful than
before! Constantly sharing wisdom, speaking in “riddles” (as Jesus was prone to
speak in parables?), he guides his followers with the assurance of one who
seeks their good and the good of the world.
Sam. My dear Sam. When Sam musters the last of his strength
to carry Frodo up Mount Doom, I was reminded of Jesus asking us to cast our
burdens upon him: “Come to me, all you
who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28
And remember the “Footprints in the Sand” poem, where in a beautiful reflection
Jesus is written to say “When you saw
only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you.”?
Just as Sam is constantly loyal to Frodo and helps him on
his quest no matter how many times Frodo pushes him away, Jesus never ceases to
love us and take our trials on himself, carrying our burdens and showing a
fierce determination to see us through no matter how often we try to reject him.
He remains steadfast and true.
Of course there are so many characters, and I think I could
continue this analysis with all of them, but I’ll just settle with those four
heroes for now. The next question is what are they all fighting against? Or
what are they all fighting for?
“But in the end, it’s
only a passing thing…this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come.
And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien, The
Two Towers.
What is the “shadow”? While seemingly the villain in the
story is the One Ring, or perhaps Sauron and his minions, I think it’s deeper
than that. Multiple times the “shadow” alone is referenced as something to
combat, whether physically as represented by the evil forces in the world or
mentally as an attack on ones ability to hope and stay focused on what is good
and pure.
“Home is behind, the
world ahead,
and there are many
paths to tread
through shadows to the
edge of night,
until the stars are
all alight.”
~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
Perhaps the shadow is not one person or being, but rather
the presence of evil itself. Evil can present itself in many forms: through
Sauron, the ring, even ones own desires and temptations. It is the decision of heroes
to fight against this shadow, this evil, and maintain the hope that good exists
and is always worth defending.
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“Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.”
~J.R.R. Tolkien
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