Guest column by Fr. Jeremy Hazuka,
Pastor of St Michael Church in Hastings
Dean of the Hastings Deanery
Three times a year, as part of our continuing formation, the priests of the Catholic Diocese of Lincoln gather for a “study day,” the most recent being Feb. 13. For this particular study day, we had the pleasure to have the English author Joseph Pearce, who has written several books on faith and literature, including a book I enjoyed a while ago, “C.S. Lewis and the Catholic Church.”
While I enjoyed Mr. Pearce’s other presentations that day, I found his presentation on “Catholicism of the Lord of the Rings” truly engaging. Joseph Pearce also confirmed my interest in the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien as almost being “spiritual reading.”
Starting in high school, I have been reading the entire “The Lord of the Rings” – with “The Hobbit” and, sometimes, “The Silmarillion” – about once every five years. (I wish I could say the same about the whole Bible.) The reason why I return to “The Lord of the Rings” is because of how the good, true, and beautiful are revealed in one of the greatest works of literature of the 20th century. Tolkien himself would write:
The Lord of the Rings is of course a fundamentally religious and Catholic work; unconsciously so at first, but consciously in the revision. That is why I have not put in, or have cut out, practically all references to anything like ‘religion’, to cults or practices, in the imaginary world. For the religious element is absorbed into the story and the symbolism. (Letters #142).
While Joseph Pearce presented on many Catholic themes that have been “absorbed” into the writings of Tolkien, I would like to share a theme that I find applicable for us as we approach the Second Sunday of Lent.
A reappearing theme in “The Lord of the Rings” is what I would describe as a “mini-Transfiguration.” Throughout the novel, important characters have their inner glory and strength shine through them at key moments. At times, Aragorn’s “royal kingly-ness” or Gandalf’s “angelic-like power” shine forth through their rough, simple exteriors, and are made apparent to those who look upon them – a change that brings dread to their enemies, but, more importantly, brings hope to those friends who look upon them. Joseph Pearce even describes Aragorn and Gandalf as “Christ figures,” though Tolkien would say that, “I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations” (Prologue of “The Lord of the Rings”).
In “The Lord of the Rings,” there is one mini-Transfiguration which may not be as obvious as these others. We find it in the character named Sam – a seemingly insignificant character. As his courage, his cheerfulness, and his love and faithfulness toward his master, Mr. Frodo, shine forth as his own glory, hope is given to Frodo (and to the book’s reader) as Frodo and Sam attempt to complete their quest amid utter darkness and despair.
Every year, the Second Sunday of Lent recounts the real Transfiguration. The Transfiguration of Christ is much greater than the “mini-transfigurations” of “The Lord of the Rings” because, instead of the glory of a mere creature shining forth, it is the Glory of God that shines forth through both the Divine and the human Jesus Christ.
In a sermon of his, Pope Saint Leo the Great offers the principal reason for the Transfiguration, namely “to remove the scandal of the cross from the hearts of his disciples, and to prevent the humiliation of his voluntary suffering from disturbing the faith of those who had witnessed the surpassing glory that lay concealed” (Sermon 51).
Jesus allows His glory to shine through humanity to provide hope to the apostles. It reaffirms that Jesus is everything that Peter, James, and John believe Jesus to be, and even more so, though they will soon see Jesus as everything they thought He was not: powerless, scared, and even (seemingly) a criminal.
In our world today, we often face occasions which can steal our hope: illness and disease, social unrest, violence, financial uncertainty, addictions of various kinds, confusion in the Church, the threat of war, and even death. We may even wish to join Peter, James, and John atop the mountain, to receive the encouragement of Christ’s glory when we’re facing tough times.
But just as Sam from “The Lord of the Rings” provides hope in his quiet and veiled “transfiguration,” so Jesus continues to reveal His glory in a quiet and veiled (but very important) way to give us, His disciples today, hope despite the crosses in our own lives. The Eucharist, like the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor, “strengthens our hope, fires us with greater love, and urges us to take up the cross and follow Christ,” using the words of Pope Saint Leo.
In “The Lord of the Rings,” Frodo and Sam are sustained during their quest with what Tolkien names “lembas,” a waybread or viaticum that “had a virtue without which they would long ago have lain down to die. It did not satisfy desire,” but “had a potency that increased as travellers relied on it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind” (p. 915).
Even more than the lembas, the Eucharist is a Sacrament of Hope – our waybread. J. R. R. Tolkien, a Catholic and daily communicant, said this:
The only cure for sagging of fainting faith is Communion. Though always Itself, perfect and complete and inviolate, the Blessed Sacrament does not operate completely and once for all in any of us. Like the act of Faith it must be continuous and grow by exercise. Frequency is of the highest effect. Seven times a week is more nourishing than seven times at intervals (Letter #250).
I pulled out my copies of “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings” again so that I can keep up my “average” of reading them every five years. If you have never read either, I would encourage you to do so. (As a “purist,” I don’t recommend the movies. I can’t make myself watch them again.)
However, during this season of Lent, I also encourage you and I to spend more time in prayer before the Eucharist and to receive Communion more than just once a week. The Eucharist allows us to experience the glory of the transfigured but also hidden Lord, and to receive real hope for our lives that often have within them a share of the cross of Jesus Christ.
