July 10, 2019

Grave of Edith Mary Tolkien (Luthien) and John  Ronald Reuel Tolkien (Beren)/ geograph

Reading Tolkien’s stories, it is easy to pick up the fact that the various races of Middle Earth often stood in competition with each other, causing various forms of racial tension and notions of racial supremacy to emerge.[1] Some readers, following this line of thought, try to use Tolkien as a prop for their own racism. They see that claims of superiority prove that there should be some races, some groups, which are seen as superior to others, who, then, are justified in keeping to themselves while they expect entitled treatment from others. However, this approach to his works would go against what Tolkien himself has said of his own beliefs elsewhere.

J.R.R. Tolkien, born in Bloemfontein, of the Orange Free State (now a part of South Africa), knew of the prejudices which were found in his birth place, prejudices which he firmly opposed. In his Valedictory Address to the University of Oxford (1959), he mentioned his firm detestation of all forms of apartheid:

If we consider what Merton College and what the Oxford School of English owes to the Antipodes, to the Southern Hemisphere, especially to scholars born in Australia and New Zealand, it may well be felt that it is only just that one of them should now ascend an Oxford chair of English. Indeed, it may be thought that justice has been delayed since 1925. There are of course other lands under the Southern Cross. I was born in one; though I do not claim to be the most learned of those who have come hither from the far end of the Dark Continent. But I have the hatred of apartheid in my bones; and most of all, I detest the segregation or separation of Language and Literature. I do not care which of them you think White.[2]

As Tolkien was a philologist, it is understandable why he mentioned his utter detestation of the artificial separation and division between the fields of Language and the Literature; he understood the study of one needed the study of the other. Trying to divide them, creating disciplines which saw themselves as superior to the other, fell for a grave error which would end up harming both. What is important and fitting about his remarks is that he understood such distinctions often were based upon prejudices and biases, artificial classifications, similar to the kinds which are used by racists to justify their racism. This is what tied his comments together. He did not care for what people looked for as being superior to others, and using that to justify the unjustifiable, that is the creation of artificial division among peoples based upon whatever biases they use to create such divisions. “I do not care which of them you think White,” indeed!

Knowing his biographical history will give a glimpse as to how Tolkien grew to detest such ideologies. While he was born in South Africa, he did not live there long; when he was three, when Tolkien, his brother Hilary, and his mother were visiting England, his father died. While his family was initially taken care of by other family members, when his mother converted to Catholicism (and with her, Tolkien and his brother as well), most of his extended family cut off all aid, so that the Tolkiens had to live on their own, with his mother working hard to take care of her children, both physically and spiritual. With all the stress, and poor physical health due to diabetes, she died young, at the age of thirty-four; by the time of her death, she had chosen Fr. Francis Xavier Morgan, a priest in the Birmingham Oratory, to be the guardian of her children. The prejudice which most (but not all) of his extended family held against Catholicism, he felt, had pushed her to an early death, making him realize how dangerous bigotry was to a healthy society.  He held high regard for Fr. Morgan, although, when he met Edith Bratt, Fr. Morgan put a stop to their relationship, demanding they stay apart until Tolkien was twenty-one years old.

The horror of his early life, the horror of feeling betrayed by his own family, is reflected in many of Tolkien’s own writings, including and especially in the story of Beren and Lúthien, characters which he saw connected to himself and the love of his life, Edith. Beren, a human, and Lúthien, the daughter of an Elvish king, fell in love, but Lúthien’s father, Thingol, opposed it as much as he could. While many note that the story reflects, in part, Tolkien’s experience of his own desire to marry Edith, and the challenges he faced with his guardian, Fr. Morgan, the racial prejudices which were manifest in Thingol’s rejection of Beren must not be ignored. Thingol’s objections to Beren marrying his daughter lay in part with Beren’s lowly status as a man, similar to the way many racists would be upset with their daughter dating and marrying a man who was of a race they denigrated:

But Thingol looked in silence upon Lúthien; and he thought in his heart: ‘Unhappy Men, children of little lords and brief kings, shall such as these lay hands on you, and yet live?’ Then breaking the silence he said: ‘I see the ring, son of Barahir, and I perceive that you are proud, and deem yourself mighty. But a father’s deeds, even had his service been rendered to me, avail not to win the daughter of Thingol and Melian. See now! I too desire a treasure that is withheld. For rock and steel and the fires of Morgoth keep the jewel that I would possess against all the powers of the Elf-kingdoms. Yet I hear you say that bonds such as these do not daunt you. Go your way therefore! Bring to me in your hand a Silmaril from Morgoth’s crown; and then, if she will, Lúthien may set her hand in yours. Then you shall have my jewel; and though the fate of Arda lie within the Silmarils, yet you shall hold me generous.’[3]

Tolkien understood what it was to be looked down upon by others, to be thought lesser, and mistreated because others believed themselves to be superior and demanded obedience and respect because of it. Thingol, seeing Beren as an inferior unworthy of his daughter, put forward a challenge that he thought could not be met, for Beren to take the Silmaril from the crown of the Dark Lord, Morgoth, knowing that Morgoth never would have it out of his presence. Thingol demanded what he thought was impossible, and yet Beren took up the quest. Beren, despite being a human, despite being apparently inferior to the Elves, proved himself their superior by doing what they thought was impossible: he was able to get the Silmaril, though it cost him much in the process, and Lúthien herself aided him so that without her, he would have failed. But the point is that Thingol had misjudged Beren, the way supremacists misjudge others: his own thoughts of superiority made him ignore the greatness which was before him. Beren was a great hero, indeed one of the greatest, whose glory surpassed most of the Elves.  When Beren completed the fool’s errand, Thingol finally understood what he had brought, all the harm which he caused to himself, to his kingdom, to his daughter, all because of his pride, and he actually had a change of heart:

Then Thingol’s mood was softened; and Beren sat before his throne upon the left, and Lúthien upon the right, and they told all the tale of the Quest, while all there listened and were filled with amazement. And it seemed to Thingol that this Man was unlike all other mortal Men, and among the great in Arda, and the love of Lúthien a thing new and strange; and he perceived that their doom might not be withstood by any power of the world. Therefore at the last he yielded his will, and Beren took the hand of Lúthien before the throne of her father.[4]

The challenge, then, which came out of Thingol reflected Tolkien’s own challenges to get his own guardian to accept his relationship with Edith, but yet, connected to it, we sense a little of Tolkien’s other challenges in life, the challenges of prejudice which he felt led his mother to her doom. Likewise, though Thingol relented, his notion of supremacy not only proved false, but also fatal to his kingdom of Doriath, for once the Silmaril was brought into Doriath, it was only a matter of time before Doriath met its own end. In this manner, Tolkien understood not only the way supremacy harms others but also harms those who hold such an ideology because they, in trying to create an artificial distinction from others, only weaken themselves in the process.

Racism and religious bigotry share a common core. Both forms of bias found Tolkien’s strong objection. Yet, he also realized how difficult it is to overcome either. Indeed, he knew how such ideologies infected the minds of great peoples, which is why the manifestation of this problem often found itself in his works with peoples who had reasons to think themselves to be great (such as the Elves). The problem is not in the recognition of their own greatness, but in the way they thought it meant others, in their differences, were inferior; those who had some sort of racial pride often became negligent in that pride, causing their own destruction, while those of other races, those who were considered to be inferior, were often the very ones who achieved the greatest deeds of all, showing how far from reality such prejudices actually were. Perhaps the most important demonstration of this in The Lord of the Rings is found in what Tolkien recorded of the deeds of the Hobbits, the little folk who seemed to be insignificant and yet who, among all others, were the ones who were able to do what needed to be done to save Middle Earth. The Elves, despite their apparent greatness, just stood back and let things fall apart, and in doing so, felt the slow waning of their power and influence in Middle Earth.

Because of Tolkien’s hatred for apartheid, which he felt was so integral to his own being, it should not be surprising to see reflections within his works which demonstrate the failing of such a political ideology, and with it, all forms of racial discrimination. Nonetheless, for this to be found in his works, Tolkien needed to have various versions of racial supremacy in his tales. Those who read his stories thinking the existence of such biases prove Tolkien’s own support of them need only to read his utter detestation of the apartheid which existed in the land of his birth and see how mistaken they are.


[1] Thus, there is a great deal of conflict between Elves, Dwarves, and Men. But, it is also true, that within each group, the potential for further kinds of supremacy emerge, such as those found with the Elves, and the way they are divided into differing groups, such as the Avari, and the Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri.

[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Valedictory Address” in The Monster & The Critics and Other Essays (London: HarperCollins, 1997), 238.

[3]  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. 1977), 167.

[4] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, 184.

 

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May 14, 2019

Antoine Glédel: Orque Terre du Milieu / Wikimedia Commons

Many fans of J.R.R. Tolkien like to use his works to promote war. Others, likewise, like to use his works as a defense of racism. The first group suggests that the works of Tolkien are filled with war, showing the good which can come out of it, forgetting, however, the ultimate solution for Tolkien was not war, and the embrace of power which is required in war to be a “victor,” but the destruction of the Ring, and the rejection of all ideologies of power. Those of the second group like to use Orcs as a metaphor, representing all the races and culture they want to destroy, forgetting that Tolkien wanted it to be understood that the Orcs represented the corruption that can take place and destroy anyone from any race or culture. The Orcs, then, can be found anywhere, and indeed, are found everywhere. The way some of the so-called “ultra-right” or “alt-right” try to use and employ motifs from Tolkien’s works do so in a way to corrupt them, indeed, overturning the insights which inspired Tolkien to write his stories.

Thus, while Tolkien firmly rejected the evils which came out of Nazi Germany, horrified by the way Hitler had used and abused the “noble northern spirit” with a demonic perversion of it,[1] he was also concerned with the way the Allies in World War II were embracing the same perversions so that in the future, they would risk becoming that which they fought against. That is, he saw many were embracing the will to power and domination, the power of the Ring, while others were promoting and spreading terrible ideologies which turned people into “Orcs.” Using parallels from his own stories, Tolkien explained his fear to his son, Christopher:

However it is, humans being what they are, quite inevitable, and the only cure (short of universal Conversion) is not to have wars – nor planning, nor organizations, nor regimentation. Your service is, of course, as anybody with any intelligence and ears and eyes knows, a very bad one, living on the repute of a few gallant men, and you are probably in a particularly bad corner of it. But all Big Things planned in a big way feel like that to the toad under the harrow, though on a general view they do function and do their job. An ultimately evil job. For we are attempting to conquer Sauron with the Ring. And we shall (it seems) succeed. But the penalty is, as you will know, to breed new Saurons, and slowly turn Men and Elves into Orcs. Not that in real life things are as clear cut as in a story, and we started out with a great many Orcs on our side …[2]

Despite what some of his fans might suggest, Tolkien understood the horrors of war. While he did not object to the notion of a just defense, he was against any militant notions such as a pre-emptive strike as being justified. He thought that the solution to war was not more war, or plans for more wars, but rather, to go beyond the logic of war itself. War begets war; preparing for war leads to people to accept the unacceptable, to use “the Ring” in order to achieve an easy victory, only to find themselves becoming Dark Lords themselves. As the Orcs were created by corruption, that is, they must not be seen as a race which developed on its own, Tolkien understood that with a new Dark Lord there would be more Orcs, that is, more corrupted people who would follow the ideologies of that new Dark Lord. Racism, nationalism, fearmongering, hatred, selfishness, and the rejection of the common good, all of these are a part of the corruption which creates an Orc, the willing slave of a Dark Lord.

Tolkien was concerned with what the Allies were willing to use in order to achieve victory. He knew and saw firsthand the corruption of the will to power, and with it, a willingness to use whatever force one could attain as a means of destroying others. While Tolkien was clear that the Ring was not an allegory of the Atomic Bomb, because he wrote of the Ring long before the bomb was created and used, it is clear Tolkien saw in it a darkness which was similar to the power of the Ring itself:

The news today about ‘Atomic bombs’ is so horrifying one is stunned. The utter folly of these lunatic physicists to consent to do such work for war-purposes: calmly plotting the destruction of the world! Such explosives in men’s hands, while their moral and intellectual status is declining, is about as useful as giving out firearms to all inmates of a gaol and then saying that you hope ‘this will ensure peace.’[3]

While we must avoid any suggestion that the Ring was meant as an allegory of the Atomic Bomb, it is not wrong to see Tolkien’s understanding of the power and destruction possible with the Ring to be something contained within Atomic weaponry. Those who possess such weaponry face the same corruption and power as those who possess the Ring. The Ring is not an allegory of the bomb, it is something deeper, because Tolkien’s literary analysis transcends the bomb. Tolkien’s presentation of the way the Ring corrupts its users points out the way any such evil, any attempt to create a force of power and domination of others, will corrupt those who employ their use. Even when some good is intended, the corruption will be there.  For this reason, although the Ring is not an allegory of the bomb, it represents the same fundamental error which is had by those who produced and used the bomb, explaining how and why it could appear to be such an allegory.

With the rise of militant nationalism and alt-right leaders who engage nationalism for the sake of power, thus, with those embracing some form of the Ring, Tolkien’s words to his son appear prophetic. And just like Hitler once used the “northern spirit” with all its tales, tales which Tolkien himself had loved in his youth, to corrupt his people and turn them into Orcs, so we see many use other good tales, even Tolkien’s, are being used and abused to corrupt others. The same type of nationalistic pride and the same violent, xenophobic stand suggested by Hitler and other fascists of Tolkien’s day are on the rise once again.  Tolkien, who was somewhat confused by the reaction to his work in the 1960s, would be disgusted with the way some are using his works to promote the rise of a new Dark Lord, a new Sauron.  Instead of being used to glorify war, they should be used to exemplify the lesson Tolkien himself learned through his own military experience: war is hell, and in its wake, those who are said to be its victors lose much of themselves in the process. After World War I and II, Europe, indeed, the world was harmed because the common good was overturned:

I have just heard the news … Russians 60 miles from Berlin. It does look as if something decisive might happen soon. The appalling destruction and misery of this war mount hourly: destruction of what should be (indeed is) the common wealth of Europe, and the world, if mankind were not so besotted, wealth the loss of which will affect us all, victors or not. Yet people gloat to hear of the endless lines, 40 miles long, of miserable refugees, women and children pouring West, dying on the way. There seems no bowels of mercy or compassion, no imagination, left in this dark diabolic hour. [4]

Tolkien had a sense that humanity needed to come together, to embrace a way beyond the war of war. Europe, and the world, both had a common heritage and wealth which could be and should be shared by all, instead of some group or another thinking selfishly for their own interests alone. Pain and sorrow create more pain and sorrow: the victors of World War II had not learned the lesson of the war because they had begun to recreate the structures of sin which led to Hitler and his destructive march across Europe. Refugees, women and children, fleeing from war-torn sites should be given compassion and mercy, not ridicule and further abuse: the devilish temptation which had turned Hitler crazy could be seen finding a new host in the rest of Europe in the terrible reaction many Europeans had for such refugees. This evil ideology festered, and now has become a terrible outgrowth affecting not only Europe, but the rest of the world, with the treatment of the Trump administration with those seeking asylum representing one horrifying example of this evil.

Readers of Tolkien’s works should not be surprised about his perspective because it finds itself repeated several times in his works. Certainly, the need for people of different races, people of different lands, to overcome their differences and work together for the common good presents itself time and time again in his works.

In The Hobbit, dwarves, elves and humans had to overcome their histories of antagonism, mistrust, and greed, in over to come together and face the common enemy:

“Come!” called Gandalf. “There is yet time for council. Let Dain son of Nain come swiftly to us!”

So began a battle that none had expected; and it was called the Battle of Five Armies, and it was very terrible. Upon one side were the Goblins and the wild Wolves, and upon the other were Elves and Men and Dwarves.[5]

When people realize the trouble they face together, they need to come together, forgetting their rivalries if they want to succeed:

This is the plan that he made in council with the Elvenking, and with Bard; and with Dain, for the dwarf-lord now joined them: the Goblins were the foes of all, and at their coming all other quarrels were forgotten.[6]

What was true in The Hobbit was also true in The Lord of the Rings. The free peoples needed to come together, to join in the mission of Frodo to destroy the Ring. Only together, not apart, could they do what was necessary for success:

The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil. With you and your faithful servant, Gandalf will go; for this shall be his great task, and maybe the end of his labours.

For the rest, they shall represent the other Free Peoples of the World: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Legolas shall be for the Elves; and Gimli son of Glóin for the Dwarves. They are willing to go at least to the passes of the Mountains, and maybe beyond. For men you shall have Aragorn son of Arathorn, for the Ring of Isildur concerns him closely.[7]

Once again, only by coming together, and overcoming old prejudices, did the fellowship prove itself to transcend the ways of Sauron and have what it took to succeed in their mission. Perhaps no better representative of this is found in the Lord of the Rings than with the way Gimli was won over by Galadriel: the dark history between the dwarves and the elves, a history which included some of the way the elves treated the dwarves in The Hobbit finds itself overturned and healed by three golden strands of Galadriel’s hair.

And to those who would like to make some sort of separatist movement, promoting a particular ideology and trying to keep it pure and untouched from outsiders, Tolkien consistently wrote of the end result of such a wasted effort. This could be seen in the fall of Gondolin. Gondolin, to be sure, had started with a good objective and not the same ideology as many moderns wanting to retreat from world, fell because of its own attempt to keep to itself and hide itself from the world. Its destruction came from within as Maeglin, the king’s nephew, became an ally with Morgoth, the Dark Lord, and helped Morgoth in destroying Gondolin. In contrast to Gondolin, the elves at Rivendell never entirely cut themselves off from the rest of Middle Earth, and it was because of this Rivendell could become not only a true safe haven for those in need, but also a place of council where the plan to overturn Sauron’s hold on Middle Earth could be made. Indeed, Elrond was half-elven, demonstrating that great leadership and wisdom and authority came to him in part because he was able to take from the best of two different races and cultures, repudiating within his own being any notion of the superiority of “racial purity.”

Tolkien, far from a figure representative of the alt-right, or the ultra-right wing with their ideologies of power, warmongering, and xenophobia, was a writer who wrote against those ideologies, afraid of what their embrace would bring into the world. When he begun his sequel to The Lord of the Rings, The New Shadow, he saw, to his dismay, corruption was once again taking place in Middle Earth: kids were forming gangs, pretending to be Orcs, showing that Gondor had not learned its lesson from the fight against Sauron. It was too dire a story and Tolkien did not write much before giving up on his sequel and returning to his earlier tales, perfecting them throughout the rest of his life. But yet, it serves as a fine representation of the warning which he gave to Christopher: the people of the earth need not only to be victorious against the other, but they need to be victorious in a way that overturns the ideology of the other lest they become that which they fight against and doom themselves to repeat the evils of the past. The rise of the alt-right is like the rise of children turning into “Orc gangs” after the defeat of Sauron. We, unlike Tolkien, have to face them and deal with them today. Let us remember what it is we fought for in the past, what we should fight for now, and do so by not embracing the power of the Ring and turning  ourselves into Dark Lords: let us, rather, embrace the truths which the alt-right reject and follow them to overturn the alt-right itself. Compassion, mercy, imagination, and the common good: these need to be our tools; Tolkien understood this. Let us heed his wisdom.


[1] See J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 45 to Michael Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 55-6.

[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 66 to Christopher Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 78.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 102 to Christopher Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 116.

[4] J.R.R. Tolkien, “Letter 96 to Christopher Tolkien” in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1981), 111.

[5] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966; rev. 1978), 237.

[6] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, 237.

[7]  J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1966.), 288-9.

 

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April 12, 2018

In The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien, with his mythopoetic style, created a world filled with different races and cultures which had histories of their own, pitting them in conflict with each other. Each race, each nation, each culture could list valid grievances against each other; the Elves and the Dwarves certainly had a long history of distrust and dislike which would otherwise seem unsurmountable. And yet, when Sauron was revealed once again active in Middle Earth, they were able to come together, put aside their differences, and work for the common good. Wisdom not only demonstrated that the Ring had to be destroyed, but also, the conflicts which separated and divided the peoples of Middle Earth had to be overcome so that they could work together to bring about the downfall of Sauron.  Thus, after Frodo had indicated he would take the Ring to Mordor, Elrond made sure he would have suitable companions to help him with his task, companions representing the different peoples of Middle Earth:

‘And I will choose you companions to go with you, as far as they will or fortune allows. The number must be few, since your hope is in speed and secrecy. Had I a host of Elves in armour of the Elder Days, it would avail little, save to arouse the power of Mordor.

‘The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil. With you and your faithful servant, Gandalf will go; for this shall be his great task, and maybe the end of his labours.

‘For the rest, they shall represent the other Free Peoples of the World: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Legolas shall be for the Elves; and Gimli son of Glóin for the Dwarves. They are willing to go at least to the passes of the Mountains, and maybe beyond. For men you shall have Aragorn son of Arathorn, for the Ring of Isildur concerns him closely.’[1]

Evil divides, while the common good unites. The Ring, itself a force of evil, often found its way to cause division even within the Fellowship, which can be seen especially with the fate of Boromir indicated, and yet even in the midst of such evil, something good can come about and heal what is wounded, as also the repentance and end of Boromir also indicated. What divides, what destroys the common good, what causes strife and conflict, can be and must be dealt with; but it must be dealt with in the right way, with respect for the common good. The common good is real, and it must be, in its nature, pluralistic, allowing for diversity. When some are unable to find their place within the common good, the common good is itself undermined.

This is one of the many lessons which can be found in The Lord of the Rings. The common good requires a pluralistic approach; the little people of the world, those who seem small and insignificant, represented by the Hobbits, have a task equal to or even greater than those who otherwise seem to be influential and important in the affairs of the world. Diversity brings strength, so long as the diversity is brought together for the common good. The rich must give way to the poor as the poor inherits the earth so that they can enjoy the good of the earth with the poor.

The scandal of the incarnation is itself a pluralistic scandal. In the body of Christ, there is a diversity of persons.  “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body — Jews or Greeks, slaves or free — and all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1Cor. 12:12-13 RSV). Salvation might be from the Jews, but it is opened up to all – all are to come together and share their gifts with each other, helping each other, serving each other in love, overriding the division established by sin. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28 RSV).  And yet, in that unity, there comes a new diversity; people do not find themselves being absorbed into the body of Christ with their personal differences are undermined. In Christ, they should discern that they are called to serve each other, not lording it over each other because they believe their unique qualities make them superior to everyone else:

As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”  On the contrary, the parts of the body which seem to be weaker are indispensable,  and those parts of the body which we think less honorable we invest with the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior part,  that there may be no discord in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another.  (1Cor. 12:20-25 RSV),

Understanding, therefore, that conflict due to division in the world is the result of sin, the Christian is to seek to bring a harmonious unity to the different peoples and cultures in Christ, working to serve and help each other with their unique gifts.  Those who were seen as less and inferior turn out to be the very ones who should be promoted just as those who thought themselves to be great because of their place in divided humanity will find their greatness was a result of sin and is going to be undermined before they find their true place in the better harmony of Christ:

And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said: “Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. “Blessed are you that hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. “Blessed are you that weep now, for you shall laugh. “Blessed are you when men hate you, and when they exclude you and revile you, and cast out your name as evil, on account of the Son of man! Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets.

“But woe to you that are rich, for you have received your consolation.  “Woe to you that are full now, for you shall hunger. “Woe to you that laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep. “Woe to you, when all men speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets” (Lk. 6:20-26 RSV).

Those who benefit from sin will suffer as a result of their sin; they get the reward of sin. However, this does not have to be their end. They are called to penance, to join in with the little people, to work together and overcome the division and hostility which they thrive upon, so that the common good can be established. In the Lord of the Rings, this is established by the way the Hobbits, the lowly people of the Shire, are aided by the great heroes of their time;  the disharmony which divided Elf, Dwarf and Man from each other was overcome by the little people, the poor in spirit, so that in wisdom, new friendships were formed which allowed them to overcome the power of darkness, the One Ring which would divide them all. Tolkien certainly understood the positive value of pluralism in society, even as he understood the evils of racism and the conflicts which arose from racist ideologies (as can be seen in the treatment of humanity by the Elves), but he also understood the common good and the good which is established in a unified diversity.

Pluralism is at the heart of the Christian message; the early disciples had to learn this as their prejudices against Samaritans and Gentiles gave way to the church’s universal scope. The way to destroy the ring, the power of evil which divides people against each other, is the same as it is in the Lord of the Rings. The little people, the people poor in spirit but big in faith, must be aided by the rest of society; then together they must journey to where the ring was constructed, that is, to the causes which establish the social structures of evil in society, and overturn them together. Where there is hatred and injustice, love and justice must prevail.  The roots of the evil must be overturned with the humble leading the way. Pluralism is not against the Gospel, it is the fruit of the Gospel. The evil of Babel is overturned by the Spirit of Life, as the church comes together, united under the humblest of all, the Lord Jesus Christ, who emptied himself of all so that he can reign over all with love.

 

[Image=A Hobbit by  Antoine Glédel [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], from Wikimedia Commons[


[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1954; rpr. 1994), 268.

 

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February 9, 2016

Kullervo on Tolkien Bookshelf, Photograph by Henry Karlson
Kullervo on Tolkien Bookshelf, Photograph by Henry Karlson

It has long been known that the story of Kullervo from the Finnish legendarium, the Kalevala, played an important role in the early development of J. R. R. Tolkien’s own legendarium. The Kullervo cycle in the Kalevala served as a foundation for the tragic character of Túrin Turambar in The Silmarillion. There has been for some time a debate as to the kind of influence Kullervo had on Tolkien. It was not until recently that most Tolkien scholars got a chance to read Tolkien’s early attempt at writing with his own re-telling of the Kullervo story itself that most of the arguments have ended, showing that its structure and ideas, while adapted and transformed, clearly set the stage for the creation of Túrin.

But, for some, the story of Kullervo seemed to be a rather odd character for Tolkien to find so interesting, as John Garth explained:

It is a strange story to have captured the imagination of a fervent Roman Catholic: Kullervo unwittingly seduces his sister, who kills herself, and then he too commits suicide.[1]

Verlyn Flieger, in the commentary and notes to the published edition of what Tolkien had finished of The Story of Kullervo, explained that at the time of writing the story, Tolkien might not have been so fervent in his faith, and certainly, he did not find it strange nor his interest in the work in conflict with whatever faith he did hold:

Tolkien clearly did not find it strange (‘great’ and ‘tragic’ were his adjectives), and seems to have felt no conflict with his Catholicism, which at that point was apparently not very ‘fervent’ anyway. Carpenter cites Tolkien’s acknowledgment that his first terms at Oxford ‘had passed “with practically none or very little practice of religion”’ (Biography, p.58), and notes ‘his lapses of the previous year [1912]’ (ibid., p. 66).[2]

Both seem to think that an answer could lie in the circumstances Tolkien found himself in. He was, up to that point, living a tragic life of his own, having lost his parents and finding himself kept away from the love of his life, Edith.

While the extent of Tolkien’s “lapses” from his faith are hard for us to know without further reading and study of writings not generally available to the average Tolkien reader (such as more letters and his diary), whatever the case, I think Tolkien would have had as high an attraction and love for the story, even if he was as fervent a Catholic reading it as he was later in life.

That is, I think it comes from a mistaken understanding of both Tolkien and Catholicism to find such a fascination with Kullervo problematic. Heroic tales and legends have long been told and retold, and held in esteem, by Catholics, long before Tolkien. His beloved Beowulf is a great example of this, where we find the author, and the audience, being Catholic – and yet full of appreciation and respect for the pre-Christian worldview which is echoed throughout the tale. Tolkien saw it was a pre-Christian tale being adapted by a Christian writer, often inserting Christian themes which sometimes interrupted the tale to make its Christianization complete, such as when he discussed the relationship between Cain and Grendel:

Our poet’s answer in the first case he found in the book of Genesis. The misformed man-mocking monsters were descendants of Cain. And the reference to the ‘giants’ of old clinched the matter for him. The blending is clearly observable: he begins with northern words eotenas, ylfe (two classes of non-human but human-shaped creatures), and ends with the word gigantas borrowed from the Latin version of Scripture [Genesis VI.4]. [3]

Beowulf was not particular unique in doing this. Medieval literature often contained such a mix, though sometimes the writer would lean more Christian in style than found in Beowulf, and others more succinctly pre-Christian. And, we must remember, he had grown to love the fantastic literature of the nineteenth century, such as found in the writings of William Morris, which had a great influence on Tolkien, where the medieval mixture of the two traditions could and would be found again (with some other, significant sources of inspiration, such as the new social awareness that had developed in modern times, also found in such stories). In other words, Tolkien not only had been long accustomed to the kind of tales he found in the Kalevala, leading him to reproduce similar kinds of stories himself, but he had already seen that medieval Christians had no problems producing such tales of their own. While, it is true, that the Reformation and Counter-Reformation had brought about a worldview which became more critical of such pagan-Christian syntheses, Tolkien was not beholden to it, and so would have no reason to feel as if there were any conflict between his faith and the kinds of stories he loved to read and later write.

This is not to say that there was no sense of consolation Tolkien felt reading tragic tales with heroes who had experienced similar (but much worse) tragedy as himself, and finding such stories attractive, felt the need to write one out during a time of personal crisis. Good writers often put much of themselves in their writing. But to get into the internal psyche of Tolkien in such a manner is not needed for us to understand how and why he could pick up such stories, be fascinated by them, write them, and feel no conflict in doing so with his religious faith. His faith was able to embrace and take in the light of other faiths, to appreciate what they have to offer, and show how they can work with and complement the Christian faith.

And that is something we all need to be able to appreciate, not just as a way to understand Tolkien, but to help is in our own walk with God in general. He shows us that what might seem impossible if we rely upon a fundamentalist mindset is possible, and not because of lack of faith, but in and with it. For the Christian faith is incarnational. It takes the good wherever it is found, and embraces it, and shows how that good relates to other goods. Truth is truth no matter where it is found. And if we encounter something beautiful, something glorious, that we find ourselves spiritually attracted to it, the beauty shows that there is some goodness and truth there, that it would be dangerous to entirely dismiss and reject that which we find so attractive. Certainly we might need to work with the beauty, and find the kernel of truth and goodness shining forth in it, so that we can find the right way to embrace it, and that work is never easy, but that is different from a wholesale dismissal of the truth because of where the ray of truth is found. Thus, we find in Vatican Council II, the exhortation of Nostra Aetate to do just this:

The Church, therefore, exhorts her sons, that through dialogue and collaboration with the followers of other religions, carried out with prudence and love and in witness to the Christian faith and life, they recognize, preserve and promote the good things, spiritual and moral, as well as the socio-cultural values found among these men.[4]

Tolkien represented, in literary fashion, what this meant; he did not produce such a tradition but was only the heir and a great representative of it in the twentieth century. Certainly, any spiritual crisis he might have had could, therefore, have been helped by his love and embrace of such myths and legends as the Kalevala. We could possibly see an element of how he deepened his faith with his love for myths in his poem, Mythopoeia, as much as see how he helped his friend, C.S. Lewis come to the faith through a similar embrace of such great legends and myths. But even if he did not have such a crisis of faith himself, there should be no surprise or confusion that Tolkien the Medievalist, Tolkien the fan of the pre-Raphaelites and William Morris, would find such a legendarium as fascinating as he did.


[1] John Garth, Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle Earth (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003), 26.

[2] J. R. R. Tolkien, The Story of Kullervo. ed. Verlyn Flieger (London: HarperCollinsPublishers, 2015), 142.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, Beowulf. A Translation and Commentary. Together with Sellic Spell. ed. Christopher Tolkien (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2014), 162.

[4] Nostra Aetate ¶2. Vatican Translation.

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July 4, 2024

Microbiz Mag: Man Writing / Wikimedia Commons

I’m an avid reader. I love to read (but, like most things, how great that love is waxes and wanes, as sometimes I read something which completely enchants me and I can’t wait to read more, and at other times, I find what I am reading not so exciting, making it difficult to reading, that is, when I think there is a good reason to do so).

I try to read at least an hour every day. I consider doing so to be similar to physical exercise, but instead of focusing on my body, I am engaging my mind. Some days I meet my goal, some days I read quite a bit more, and other days, when life gets in the way, I read much less I desire.

While I read a great variety of texts, there are some types which I read more often than others: theology, spirituality, philosophy, history, science fiction, fantasy, and important, influential works of world literature. I try to alternate what I read, especially if and when I find myself reading too much from a single author or genre, just as I alternate the physical exercise I do every day. This helps keep my mind sharp even as it makes sure I do not get stuck in my reading habits, ignoring texts which I would otherwise find invaluable or at least entertaining if I turned to them. Indeed, when I find my reading becomes repetitive, such as when I read too much from a given author or genre, I find my enthusiasm for reading begins to wane. That is when I need something radically different to read, something which, in its newness, helps revitalize my love for reading. After engaging such a novelty, I find it easier to engage the kinds of texts I normally read.

Writing my blog helps me integrate what I have read and learned to what I had previously come to know and understand; that is, I often use the texts I have most recently read as an inspiration for my writing, engaging what I read so that I can better understand and appreciate its significance for myself.  This is not to say everything I write about is based upon what I have most recently read: usually, one blog post a week reflects my current reading (if it is relevant), another post reflects the liturgical week and the readings used for the Sunday Divine Liturgy, another engages and reflects upon the news of the week, and then, the final post either deals with concerns I have seen being raised by Catholics during the week, or I try reflect upon the spirituality of the desert fathers and mothers, trying to find a way to make their wisdom and thought relevant today. In doing this, I write for my own benefit, but also, for the benefit of others, hoping that what comes about through my studies and reflections will help others just as much as it does myself.

I do not want my blog to only serve myself and my own particular idiosyncrasies. I try to make my blog a place where I can encounter others, and they can encounter me. I do not always respond to comments, but I read them, thinking about what they say and if there is something I should say in response, either in a comment, or in a future blog post. I try to use my blog as a place where I can engage others, and others engage me. For that to be possible, everyone needs to be honest. If I detect someone trying to simply debate, or worse, respond in some deceptive manner (such as trying to gaslight me or one of my readers), I disengage from that conversation. We should always be concerned about each other, showing  each other love and respect, treating each other as we would like to be treated. This includes being willing to open up and expose ourselves in some fashion or another, that is, to be willing to reveal our thoughts and beliefs, so that others can then respond to us in kind, and in doing so, we come to know, not just our thoughts and beliefs, but some of the hopes and dreams and of the people we engage. I want us to have a fruitful encounter with each other where we engage each other as persons and not as mere individuals who have no way to connect or help each other. But, if we are to help each other in this way, we should always make sure we are not being hypocrites, addressing others, telling them what to do without being critical with ourselves, which is why I constantly tell people, much of my writing is as much as for myself as others. It is my hope that my reflections can help us grow together; if this happens, or rather, when it happens, I believe my work has been successful, and when it does not, then I know there is more which needs to be said and done.

To help make this happen, when I read, I write down quotes which I find interesting and important. Some of them confirm what I already believe. Some of them complement and expand my thoughts. Some of them challenge them. Others represent ways authors I am reading, often authors I like or appreciate, go astray or err. The last type of quote is important because it helps me to be critically engaged with what I read, not taking what I read for granted. It reminds me that even those who are intelligent, full of knowledge and wisdom, are people with biases and prejudices which get in the way of their thinking.  Many of my favorite authors have made some great, indeed, grave mistakes, and yet, they are among my favorites because where they went right, they said and did something extraordinary, something which amazes me, and so something which influences me and my thoughts. And then, when I think about them and how they went astray, I know the same can and should be said about myself, that is, if the best among us can embrace some grave errs, it is likely I am doing so myself, in ways which I might not ever recognize.

To be sure, what I have written here might seem to suggest that my reading is done purely for study, or some utilitarian use. While that is often involved, it is not the whole of it. Much of my reading is done for the pleasure of it, that is, because I am entertained by what I read. I do not take notes on everything I read, especially if and when I find such notes would become repetitive, or worse, interfere with my enjoyment of the text in question. This is one of many reasons why I like to read fiction, especially genre fiction. It helps me read more for the sake of pleasure than for anything else. This is not to say such reading only serves meaningless entertainment, as, of course, the works not only entertain us, but they also makes us look at and examine the world in new ways. This is why I like to read the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Philip K. Dick, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. Le Guin, Shirley Jackson, and H.P. Lovecraft (and others like them): they knew how to write to entertain their audience, and yet, in and with that entertainment, there are many issues which are raised, issues which can and should be addressed by everyone, issues which often become addressed either directly or indirectly when I come to write for my blog. For, even when I am being entertained, my mind still asks questions, questions which ultimately will be reflected upon in what I write.

 

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

 

May 31, 2024

No photographer listed: Saint In Cave / pxhere

We have many stories, some more famous than others, in which saints encounter and slay dragons, with St. George being the most well-known of them all.  Most of these stories should be understood to be legendary, that is, not to be entirely historical; while there might be some historical basis behind them, that historical core is used to construct a legend which engages mythic, not historical dimensions. Then, through the mythic presentation of the event, symbols are used to present various theological truths. We do not have to believe that there was a literal dragon which was slain by George. Instead, dragons tend to represent Satan and other demonic entities which the saints overcome.

Nonetheless, there are other stories of saints which have dragons in them, stories which are much more historically based, and the dragon does not represent a symbol, but some animal which the saint encountered and engaged, an animal which we know by another name, such as a crocodile. In such stories, the saints, far from being hostile to the dragon in question, often found a way to be in harmony with them instead of seeking to destroy or harm them. That is, in these stories, we are shown the way humanity is meant to be in harmony with the rest of nature, including and especially, those creatures which are often seen as potentially being a threat. An example of this can be found in a story concerning Abba Agathon:

It is said of Abba Agathon that at one time he lived in a cave in the desert in which there was a large dragon. The serpent decided to go away and live him. Abba Agathon said to it, ‘If you leave, I am not saying here,’ so the serpent decided not to leave. Now there was a sycamore-fig in that desert. It was their custom to go out together. Abba Agathon marked a line in the sycamore and divided the tree with the serpent: the serpent would eat the fruit from one side of the sycamore while the elder ate from the other. When they had finished eating, they wet back into the cave, both of them together.[1]

Abba Agathon was a highly respected ascetic, who, even when he was young, was recognized for his holiness and was designated as an Abba by Abba Poemen, his mentor. It was due to his holiness that he looked to create peace within himself, but also with the world at large, a peace which allowed him to form relationships not only with other humans, but with animals. When he took residence in the cave, it is understandable that whatever type of animal was living in it, designated as a dragon, might have wanted to leave and find a new place to live. Animals, after all, often flee from human habitation.

Agathon did not want to impose himself on the dragon’s habitat and cause the creature to needlessly suffer, and so found a way to show it that they could live in harmony, sharing the fruit of the land with each other. As long as he lived in the cave, they were companions, with Agathon making sure he did not become a burden to the dragon. Once again, as with many such stories, we are shown the kind of harmony God wants humanity to have with animals. They are not supposed to be in rivalry with each other, but rather, they are meant to share the world together without adversely affecting each other. Humanity was meant to take in the lead of this, to act as stewards over creation, but due to the fall, humanity has failed to follow its calling, leading to various kinds of hostility between humans and the animals around them. Many stories of the saints are meant to show us the way humanity was meant to be, as they become more and more pure, and through that purity, restore their proper relationship with the world at large. Then, like Agathon, they not only find themselves in harmony with whatever animals they meet, they make sure they are of service to those animals as well.

Christians should look to the examples of those saints who show the kind of harmony that could exist between humanity and animals, saints like St. Francis of Assisi, St. Seraphim of Sarov, and St. Agathon, so that they can be encouraged by these stories to do what God desires them to do. Sadly, throughout Christian history, Christians have done the opposite, showing an extreme lack of concern for the world they live in. They think they can ignore their calling and exploit the earth because the world is going to come to an end, and so what they do does not matter. This is an anti-Christian, that is, Gnostic, sentiment, encouraging Christians to dishonor God and God’s intention for the earth, as they end up continuing the way of fallen humanity and its destructive, nihilistic way of being.

We must truly embrace all life, not just human life, and that means we must be respectful of the environment and its needs, taking care of all life on the earth:

To be life-centered is to be respectful both of life and environment. As a way of looking at the world, biocentrism is an antidote to that human-centeredness that sees humans as the measure of all things and that believes humans, and humans alone, are worthy of our moral regard. Inasmuch as human beings are members of the family of terrestrial life, and perhaps even its most precious members, life-centeredness involves a deep and abiding commitment to their wellbeing. [2]

Sadly, many Christians have come to believe only humanity is important. They follow,  as Laura Hobgood-Oster said, a kind of narcissism, one which has been extremely prevalent the last few centuries:

Yet in the last several hundred years Christianity has been hesitant, at times, to include animals in either its ethical or its theological systems. Without addressing the issue of “the animal,” Christianity not only lives in a potentially dangerous bubble, but it risks becoming increasingly narcissistic and marginal to the world as we know it, and as we are making it. [3]

It is time to move beyond that narcissism and learn from Agathon, learn how to be good stewards of the earth, taking care not only of ourselves, but all life, realizing the good, indeed, the dignity found in all life. Agathon was able to dialogue with and come to agreements with the dragon, and other saints were known to make similar pacts with animals. If we try, we can do likewise, making relationships with all creatures. When we do so, we will find ourselves, as well as those animals we related to, made better, even as we will provide another example of the inherent dignity of all life in this fashion. But if we do not, if we try to selfishly look after ourselves alone, we will find, as with all such selfishness, we will get the opposite of what we seek, as we will fall further and further from grace , and risk creating, if  we are not careful, our own private little hell.


[1] More Sayings of the Desert Fathers. An English Translation And Notes. Ed. John Wortley (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019; repr. 2023),  119 [“Sayings Preserved in Coptic”: C2].

[2] Jay B. McDaniel, Of God and Pelicans: A Theology of Reverence For Life (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989), 14.

[3] Laura Hobgood-Oster, The Friends We Keep: Unleashing Christianity’s Compassion for Animals  (Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press, 2010), 6.

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

April 30, 2024

Dmitry Boyarin: Worship In Eastern Orthodox Church / Wikimedia Commons

Tolkien mentioned that those who believe in a personal God find themselves drawn to God with a desire to honor and worship their Creator above the way they honor anyone and anything else:

Those who believe in a personal God, Creator, do not think the Universe is in itself worshipful, though devoted study of it may be one of the ways of honouring Him. And while as living creatures we are (in part) within it and part of it, our ideas of God and ways of expressing them will be largely derived from contemplating the world about us. (Though there is also revelation both addressed to all men and to particular persons.) [1]

We are drawn to God because God is love, indeed, transcendent love. The more we see the love of God in action, the more we will perceive God’s greatness, and that greatness will awe us, make us sit back and contemplate what perceive. This, however, is not just true for God. We find it is true in our relationships with others. They often enchant us by their good qualities, and we, in response, often think about them, indeed, praise them one way or another, because of the way their greatness inspires us. Thus, there is something natural about the desire we have to honor those who make us feel great, which is why we end up praising God when we apprehend God’s greatness.

There are many ways we can and will fulfill our desire to praise and worship God, not just the way many of us have grown accustomed to thinking, that is, by prayer, private or communal (such as at a liturgical service). We must not constrain our reaction to God and God’s love. We must embrace God and honor God in a variety of ways, not just one. as Blessed Theodoret of Cyrus, commenting upon Paul’s letters, explained, “There are many forms of worship: the one who prays worships God, as does the one who fasts, the one who heeds the divine sayings, and of course also the one who cares for strangers.”[2]

Each time we follow the way of love, engaging others through such love, we find ourselves honoring God, and so giving our creator the worship which God desires from us. What we do out of such love, like taking care of strangers (migrants, for example), or those who are poor and needy, must be seen as an act of worship, often a kind which is greater than simple prayer, for God has revealed to us that the divine heart lies with the poor and needy. And if this is worship, it can be said that acts which run contrary to such love, such as denying strangers or the poor of the care they need, is an affront to God, making it a kind of blasphemy.

Working to counteract any inordinate passions which would lead us to act unjustly, that is, engaging various forms of self-discipline like fasting, if that self-discipline is geared to purify our will so that we can better embrace the way of love, likewise can be seen as a way for us to worship and honor God. This is because we are trying to align ourselves with God, honoring and working for the same goals God has for creation. When we study to learn the ways of God, doing so to come to know God better, and acting upon what we learn, once again, we can be said to be honoring God, and so engaging God in an act of worship; the same, is true, when doing theological reflection, where we try to understand better what we have apprehended and share with others what we have discerned so that we can all come to know and love God that much more than we did before we did so.

We are to love God with all our heart. Of course, as sin has contaminated us, so our love will often be imperfect, but it is better to offer imperfect worship, to try to act out of love, than to give up on all attempts to do so. “He prefers to be worshiped in whatever way, even incompetently, provided it is in keeping with human nature, than not to be worshiped at all out of pride.” [3] We will likely find our love grows stronger the more we exercise it, which is why an imperfect love, such as found in imperfect contrition, can and will be effective and our worship, however mixed it is, can be pleasing to God, so long as the love which is there is real and we are trying to nurture it instead of strangling it in our lives.  And one of the ways we do that is to do what we can to work for the benefit of our neighbor, for the more we do that, the more we will form the habits of love which can and then will overcome the habits of sin, even as imperfect contrition will be able to grow to perfect contrition, leading to the purification of the soul from all sin.

Love draws us in to God. We should do what we can to develop our love, for by doing so, we will find ourselves living our lives the way God intended us to live them out. The more we love, the more we will honor God, because God is love, which is why we should seek to develop our relationship with each other in such a way that love is the foundation of our engagements. “Let the soul remember that she owes her first love to God and her second to her neighbor, and that all her affections must be directed by this rule, that she should not withdraw from the worship of the Lord nor from the usefulness to the fellow servant.” [4]  We should understand that we can and will embrace various forms of worship every day we live, because there will be many ways we can and will express our love. What undermines the will of God, what undermines the love which we should have, undermines and corrupts our worship. Sin, being unlove, resists proper worship, though it can and will try to replace the worship based upon love with worship which is legalistic and show, to make us believe we are holy for following legalistic expectations when, in reality, as we do so without love, we are only engaging the simulacra of worship. Nonetheless where love remains, there remains hope, hope that the love will grow, and all that is sin is cast off, so that in the end, there is hope that love, not sin, is victorious, and with it, we will come to know God by the way we have come to know love, not by study, not through theological speculation, but by experience.


[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Revised and Expanded Edition. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien (Broadway, NY: William Morrow, 2023), 562 [Letter 310 to Camilla Unwin].

[2] Theodoret of Cyrus, Commentary on the Letters of St. Paul. Volume One. Trans. Robert Charles Hill (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2001), 47-8 [Romans].

[3] Marsilio Ficino, On the Christian Religion. Trans. Dan Attrell, Brett Bartlett, and David Prreca (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2022), 54

[4] St Leo the Great, Sermons. Trans. Jane Patricia Freeland CSJB and Agnes Josephine Conway SSJ (Washington, DC: CUA Press, 1996), 71 [Sermon 19].

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.

April 19, 2024

Mark J. Ferrari: Frodo / Wikimedia Commons

Tolkien, examining what happened to Frodo, and how he failed in his mission, said that looking at Frodo only as a failure represented a simple engagement with The Lord Of The Rings. That is, while it was true on a rather simple examination of the story, there was and is much more we could and should gain from it if we used a different approach to engage The Lord of the Rings:

Frodo indeed ‘failed’ as a hero, as conceived by simple minds: he did not endure to the end; he gave in, ratted. I do not say ‘simple minds’ with contempt: they often see with clarity the simple truth and the absolute ideal to which effort must be directed, even if it is unattainable. Their weakness, however, is twofold. They do not perceive the complexity of any given situation in Time, in which an absolute ideal is enmeshed. They tend to forget that strange element in the World that we call Pity or Mercy, which is also an absolute requirement in moral judgement (since it is present in the Divine nature). In its highest exercise it belongs to God. For finite judges of imperfect knowledge it must lead to the use of two different scales of ‘morality’. To ourselves we must present the absolute ideal without compromise, for we do not know our own limits of natural strength (+grace), and if we do not aim at the highest we shall certainly fall short of the utmost that we could achieve. To others, in any case of which we know enough to make a judgement, we must apply a scale tempered by ‘mercy’: that is, since we can with good will do this without the bias inevitable in judgements of ourselves, we must estimate the limits of another’s strength and weigh this against the force of particular circumstances.[1]

To be a failed hero one must first try to be a hero, that is, one must try to do something invaluable and extraordinary, and in doing so, be tested and find out the limits of their potential. Those who do not try to do anything heroic, those who let things be, might not fail to achieve their goals in life, but they will fail themselves and others because they never will accomplish anything significant.  Recognizing one’s failure, to be sure, is important, but so is recognizing one’s successes along the way, for those successes often prove the value of one’s actions even if one fails to achieve all that one hoped to do. This is one of many reasons why we should be merciful to those who try and fail to achieve greatness, because, even if they do not achieve all they planned to do, they likely will accomplish much more than those who don’t even try to do anything great. Indeed, for Tolkien, mercy is important, and one of the things Frodo learned along the way was its value, which is why, when he rendered mercy to Gollum, he established the means by which he, and the rest of the world, would be saved:

But at this point the ‘salvation’ of the world and Frodo’s own ‘salvation’ is achieved by his previous pity and forgiveness of injury. At any point any prudent person would have told Frodo that Gollum would certainly betray him, and could rob him in the end. To ‘pity’ him, to forbear to kill him, was a piece of folly, or a mystical belief in the ultimate value-in-itself of pity and generosity even if disastrous in the world of time.[2]

Grace perfects nature; it is capable of bringing to success that which we cannot accomplish by ourselves. However, to receive it, we need to acknowledge its need, not only in our lives, but in the lives of everyone. This means we will be merciful to others because we will see how and why we need mercy, and the grace which comes with it, for ourselves. We are expected to do what we can, to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, but, due to our own weakness, due to our own imperfections, we should be humble about it and accept that we cannot and will not attain perfection on our own. God will take what we offer and elevate it with grace. This is exactly what Tolkien saw happening with Frodo in The Lord of the Rings: what Frodo was able to accomplish was great, but not enough; like everyone else, Frodo could not attain perfection by himself, indeed, his limitations made it impossible for him to complete his mission to destroy Sauron’s Ring. That did not mean he should not have tried. It is because he tried, because of the struggles he faced and overcame along the way, he was able to accept who he was, including and especially, his weakness, and so do all he could do without letting despair get in the way. His acceptance of who he was, including his failure, made room for grace, for providence to take what he offered and bring to completion what he himself started, and in doing so, bring salvation to the world at large. Frodo became a vessel of grace despite his own personal imperfections. Thus, as Tolkien made clear, from the very beginning of his quest, Frodo was going to fail, but it is what he did, and how he engaged not only his own failure, but the failure of others, which allowed him to be saved, and even to have contributed to the destruction of the Ring:

If you re-read all the passages dealing with Frodo and the Ring, I think you will see that not only was it quite impossible for him to surrender the Ring, in act or will, especially at its point of maximum power, but that this failure was adumbrated from far back. He was honoured because he had accepted the burden voluntarily, and had then done all that was within his utmost physical and mental strength to do. He (and the Cause) were saved – by Mercy : by the supreme value and efficacy of Pity and forgiveness of injury.[3]

This is a lesson which we should all learn and embrace for ourselves. Even though we are imperfect, and do many things which we should not do, we can and do many things which we should, many good things which contribute to the good in the world. If we are open to God and God’s grace, God can and will take what we offer, even in the midst of our failures, and use them as a foundation for grace to come in and lead us to our ultimate perfection:

This is shown because there are six things which make every heart surge towards those near it, namely, goodness, kindness, piety, sweetness, charity, and readiness to forgive, which have disposed God’s heart to prepare this grace [for us]. For goodness is the communication and diffusion of itself to all, as Dionysius says. Kindness is the flowing river of good fire and of the heart continuously melted in all goodness. Now piety in itself is similar, as ever-melting affection. Sweetness according to the nature of unions is a continual flowing forth that holds in itself a pleasantness that is nothing other than the agreeable reception of flowing sweetness. Charity is a burning, a heart blazing and flaming so that it completely spends itself in the enjoyment of the beloved. Now readiness to forgive is being easily appeased; by it, no one is turned away from [giving] his benefits on account of the offenses committed against him. These are the things that made the most gracious heart of God prepare this grace for us. [4]

We find it far easier to forgive, to show kindness, mercy, love, to others, when we know ourselves and know our need for such things as well. We will understand the imperfection of others, and how it can and will lead them to fail, because we will see it in our own lives and how we fail to do those things which we want to do. We will also understand how and why such failure does not have to be the end of the matter. We can and should share with each other our burdens, helping to complete for each other, what we cannot do by ourselves. But, we should also realize, even when we come together, we are limited creatures, and so we can only do so much before we come to exhaustion. That means, we need help from God, whose infinite capacity means God can provide the grace which we need to overcome our limitations. Our limitations should not be seen as the end of the matter. God can and will take what we have given, both personally and communally, and elevate it, so that the greater, indeed, the greatest good can be achieved. This is exemplified well by what happened to Frodo. He had help, such as the help given to him by Samwise, or even Gollum, as he made his way to Mordor to destroy Sauron’s Ring. In the end, Frodo found the Ring was destroyed, not by his own doing, but yet in a way it would not have been destroyed if he had not taken on the quest to destroy it. This is how the greatest accomplishments in history will be achieved. Despite ourselves, despite our weaknesses, and the ways we fall into temptation along the way,  if we embrace mercy and grace, then they will be able to take what we have doe and bring them to fruition in a way which we cannot do ourselves. Indeed, not only will do so in temporal history, we will find, they will also do so, in a greater fashion, in the eschaton, where we will see the true outcome of history.


[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Revised and Expanded Edition. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien (Broadway, NY: William Morrow, 2023), 460-1 [Letter 246 to Mrs Eileen Elgar].

[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 339 [Letter 181 to Michael Straight].

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 362 [Letter 191 to Miss J. Burn].

[4] St. Albert the Great, On the Body of the Lord. Trans. Sr. Albert Marie Surmanski, OP (Washington, DC: CUA Press, 2017), 35.

 

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February 11, 2024

Gandalf’s Gallery: Kergoat’s Forgiveness / flickr

Alexander Pope gave us the famous dictum, “To err is human; to forgive is divine.” One of the central elements of the Christian faith is its teaching on forgiveness. First, it reveals to us that  God’s love is so great, God is willing to and able to forgive us, no matter what we have done. There is nothing which is unforgiveable so long as we embrace and accept forgiveness. But then it tells us, once we have been forgiven, we are expected to embrace forgiveness so much we make it a way of our being so that we not only receive it, but share it with others. We must truly take forgiveness to heart.

Everyone makes mistakes. Every does wrong. But those mistakes, those errors, the evils which we do, do not have to define us. With God’s forgiveness, and the grace which comes from it, we will change. We will become the person we are intended to be instead of the fallen, selfish individual who looks at all things in light of unenlightened self-interest. So long as we view the world in that fallen mode of being, with and through such unenlightened self-interest, we will be unwilling to forgive others. Certainly, sometimes it is easy to grant such forgiveness, while at other times, it will be extremely difficult. Indeed, if it were not for the grace we were granted, we would find it impossible. However, since forgiveness is granted to us by God, Pope is correct, and it is divine, as it is revealed as being one of the uncreated energies of God. When we truly attune ourselves to it, we will find the forgiveness we have accepted will transform us and help us become more and more like God; the more we take it in, the more we will find ourselves participating in the divine life as it relates to us, and so, we will find that such participation will grant us the ability to do what we would otherwise not be able to do, and grant forgiveness to everyone. Thus, with the grace we are given in our own forgiveness, we find it becomes possible to share forgiveness with others; when we deny forgiveness, however, we cut ourselves off from the uncreated energy of God’s forgiveness, and so cut ourselves off from the grace we need for our own forgiveness and our own perfection.

We need to learn to let go and forgive. This is not to say we should forget what was done and act as if nothing happened. That is not what forgiveness is about. All actions have consequences which must be dealt with and engaged. We must make sure whatever justice was lost can be and will be restored. What we need to realize is that it is impossible to do so if we let bitterness rule over our lives. We must, therefore, accept the role of forgiveness and mercy in connection with justice, and we must realize justice must be restorative not retributive, for all retribution does is makes things worse.

Forgiveness, therefore, is an important element in the Christian faith. We need forgiveness from God, but we also need it from others, even as others need it from us. We are in the world together. We need to find a way to embrace universal forgiveness. We also need to recognize when we go astray, we should do what we can to make amends for what we have done. We must do what we can to reform, and one of the most important ways we can do that, is to embrace mercy as a way of life. The more we embrace mercy and the forgiveness it offers, the more we will find ourselves transformed by it, becoming more and more like God, and so more and more like the person God wants us to be, a person who can and will have a share in the divine life itself. To do that, we must stop being judgmental, stop looking to others to judge and condemn them. When we render such judgment and condemn someone, we show we do not really forgive them, and if we are unwilling to forgive, we cut ourselves off from the uncreated energy of God’s forgiveness, risking that we will not experience the grace of forgiveness ourselves: “For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you; but if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matt. 6:14-15 RSV). Sin does not have to have the final say, but if we are unwilling to accept the way of mercy, we let it have the final say over us; then, we will experience the end God has in store for sin and all that is attached to it.

“But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires” (Rom. 13:14 RSV). We are to put on Jesus, that is, to find ourselves united with him. Jesus is the light of the world. He offers the world God’s love, and so, if we put him on, if we act in relation to our union with him, we will not let ourselves be turned towards the darkness of hate which knows no mercy. We will be charitable towards others. We will not put our own likes and dislikes above them. We will not force everyone to  satisfy our inordinate “fleshy” desires. We will recognize people will be at different positions in their lives than we are, and to deal with that, we will try to make sure everyone gets the help they need instead of discouraging them with our condemnation, which is why Paul said:

As for the man who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not for disputes over opinions.  One believes he may eat anything, while the weak man eats only vegetables. Let not him who eats despise him who abstains, and let not him who abstains pass judgment on him who eats; for God has welcomed him.  Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Master is able to make him stand (Rom 14:1-4 RSV).

We should embrace God, what is  divine, and do what we can to be more like God. God is merciful. God is loving. God is kind. God offers forgiveness to all. We should be likewise. And, to be sure, while this is for the good of others, it is also for our own good. By forgiving others like God, we open ourselves to God, freeing ourselves to participate in uncreated energies of God and all the glory they can bring to us.

To err is human, especially when we think of humanity apart from God; to forgive is divine, but thanks to the incarnation, forgiveness is an aspect of the divinity which we can partake of and share in. We are called to do just that. The more we embrace the path of mercy and grace, the more forgiving we are, the more we reveal how much we have partaken of the uncreated divine energies of God and become like God. We will show we treasure God for, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matt. 6:21 RSV). If we treasure God and the divine life, we will treasure mercy and forgiveness, and others will see the fruit of it in our lives. If we, on the other hand, hold onto bitterness and resentment, we will be far from God and we will show our treasure is not with God, but ourselves.

 

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February 6, 2024

Nheyob: : Saint John the Baptist Catholic Church (Dry Ridge, Ohio) – Stained glass, Eucharist/ Wikimedia Commons

Jesus offers himself in the eucharist as an act of love, giving us a chance to partake of him, and by doing so, find ourselves united with him and his life.  We are not meant to treat the eucharist as some sort of magical talisman which helps us achieve our petty desires, nor as something which reinforces our selfish, egotistical mode of engagement with the world, but rather, as a gift of love which helps us to become what we eat. That is, when we receive communion, we are to join in and share with the rest of creation the self-giving love we receive in the eucharist.

Due to Jesus’ presence in the eucharist, a presence which is sacramental, not physical, it is understandable we can and will revere him in it, but that was not why Jesus instituted the eucharist. He was clear at the Last Supper: we are to take, eat and drink, and by doing so, find ourselves receiving him and all that he is (God, man, creator, creature) into ourselves. While we can explore the eucharist in a variety of ways, from the symbols being presented to us by the way Jesus employed bread and wine as the vessels for communion, to what it means to talk about the real presence, we must not do so if it would have us ignore its primary purpose. Those who would do so most likely have misunderstood the mystery of the eucharist itself, and in doing so, as Fr. George Maloney warned us, end up objectifying what is not meant to be objectified (because the eucharist is Jesus, a divine person giving himself to us in an act of love, and not some object for us to control and manipulate):

If we fail to understand the mystery of the Eucharist as the fullness, not only of God’s self-emptying love for us, but as the fullness of the building up and completion of the entire plan of God’s salvation, then we truly do not understand the Eucharist and the communion of saints. We can easily “objectivize” the Eucharist as a form of presence in a “place” where Jesus became present to individuals who receive Him in a space and a time where Jesus is present in “this” host or inside that tabernacle “over there.” And we will miss the full mystery of the Eucharist and the Body of Christ.[1]

The eucharist is food, and we are meant to eat it. Just as we might store food for times of need, so some of the eucharist can be and will be reserved, and as it is revered, it can be and will be venerated. But, again, the reason why we reserve it is to be able to supply spiritual food to those who need it outside of the liturgy (such as those who are sick and shut in). It is the bread of life, Jesus himself, and by receiving Jesus, we enter into communion with him and all those he is in communion with: “It is also called communion because it makes us have communion with all the saints, so that what is lacking in one may be supplied from the common bounty of all the saints.” [2] When we try to place the eucharist apart from everyone else, and turn it into a thing only to be worshiped, or a thing meant for only a limited few people, we abandon the original purpose of the eucharist and by doing so, risk losing all that Christ intends us to have through it. The eucharist is given to us so that we can be built up by Christ, who will, through it, help us build connections with everyone else who is in the body of Christ.

We are called to be one body, that is, one “living organism” so to speak, which is not other than the body of Christ in history (that is, the church). As this organism has a place in history, it will have a beginning, and it will find its consummation at the end of the world. Until then, it will live and thrive as all organisms, do, which is, to change, dealing with the needs of the times. During every age of its existence, we will see it changing; if we did not, then the organism could no longer be said to be alive:

Still more because ‘my church’ was not intended by Our Lord to be static or remain in perpetual childhood; but to be a living organism (likened to a plant), which develops and changes in externals by the interaction of its bequeathed divine life and history – the particular circumstances of the world into which it is set. There is no resemblance between the ‘mustard-seed’ and the full-grown tree. For those living in the days of its branching growth the Tree is the thing, for the history of a living thing is pan of its life, and the history of a divine thing is sacred. The wise may know that it began with a seed, but it is vain to try and dig it up, for it no longer exists, and the virtue and powers that it had now reside in the Tree.[3]

The eucharist, with Christ giving himself to us, is what brings us together; it gives us life so that through it, the church which it establishes can continue to thrive in history, changing in some aspects to meet the tides of time while remaining one and the same. It does so, not just because it brings us the personal presence of the God-man in history, nor because we find ourselves one with him, but also in and through him, we find ourselves partaking of the eternal life of God:

The first and greatest effect of the Eucharist is to bring us into a oneness of the trinitarian community of love. Through the intensification of our union with the risen Jesus, the Holy Spirit brings us into a new awareness of our being, also, one with the Father and the Holy Spirit. [4]

This awareness should change us. When we experience and participate in divine love, we should find it working in and through us so that we become personal reflections of that love. Our lives will become more and more like Christ, revealing the self-emptying love of God to others. If we circumvent that change, if we try to counter what is being offered in the eucharist, participation in the divine life itself, and turn it into something which separates the divine life from the world by trying to transform the eucharist into the objectified presence of Christ which we keep to ourselves and use for our own selfish gain, we end up denying the full reality of the eucharist itself. This is why it is important for us to get the eucharist right, to reflect upon it in a way beyond the objectified manner which many treat it, so that we and everyone else can receive the eucharist in the right spirit, in the spirit of love. If not, we risk receiving the eucharist in an unworthy manner, in a manner which is contrary to love, and in doing so, risk all the consequences that follow when divine love meets our unlove and our attempt to justify our unlove through a misappropriation of the eucharist itself. That is, we will meet the consuming fire of God’s love which consumes all that us unlove, and experience the loss which it brings.


[1] George A. Maloney, SJ, Communion of Saints (Hauppauge, NY: Living Flame Press, 1988), 123.

[2] St. Albert the Great, On the Body of the Lord. Trans. Sr. Albert Marie Surmanski, OP (Washington, DC: CUA Press, 2017), 269.

[3] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Revised and Expanded Edition. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien (Broadway, NY: William Morrow, 2023), 553 [Letter 306 to Michael Tolkien].

[4] George A. Maloney, SJ, Communion of Saints, 126

 

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N.B.:  While I read comments to moderate them, I rarely respond to them. If I don’t respond to your comment directly, don’t assume I am unthankful for it. I appreciate it. But I want readers to feel free to ask questions, and hopefully, dialogue with each other. I have shared what I wanted to say, though some responses will get a brief reply by me, or, if I find it interesting and something I can engage fully, as the foundation for another post. I have had many posts inspired or improved upon thanks to my readers.


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