
Chris and I just finished our annual watching of The Lord of the Rings and I think one of the things that Tolkien really captured in his books (and in the film) is how the small players, play just as important of a role as the great. Aragorn, Legolos, Gandalf …. They all are extremely gifted. Compared to them, the hobbits seem not only small, but simple. They haven’t been out of the shire – They haven’t experienced what Aragorn has experienced or have the wisdom, knowledge or power that Gandalf possesses.
Being surrounded by academics, especially academics that work in Theology, it sometimes can be hard to make sense of how these extremely smart, extremely gifted theologians/philosophers can be dealing with the same questions and truths about God that the normal person is confronting. I’ve sat in at some of the conferences Chris goes to and it’s like their speaking a different language! And so you think, how can the simple truths of God’s kingdom be so complex if it was meant for the most simple? And so that is where I think the characters in The Lord of the Rings are very helpful. You can see how giftedness (which includes not only skill with a sword, but intelligence) can be used for great good like in the case of Gandalf or great bad, like in the case of the white wizard, gone bad, Saruman. And while the big players like Aragorn and Legolos are fighting great battles, the hobbits, in a more simple way, are making the same strides, if not greater in winning the victories!
It helps me to think of God’s truths as the lines of a cookie-cutter. From straight on, you just see the outline of what the cookie will be. But if you turn it on its side, you see that there is depth to the cookie cutter. The lines of the cookie cutter, from this other perspective have a greater depth (and this is where the metaphor ends) because those depths are more like cliffs … cliffs that go down and down for eternity! God’s truths are beyond deep! While Gandalf might be dealing in the cliffs of truth, Frodo and Sam may have just as much of an understanding of God’s wisdom in seeing straight on the picture that the cookie cutter makes.
A real life example of this is the modern day saint Thérèse of Lisieux. Thérèse died of tuberculosis in 1897 when she was just twenty-four. She spent most of her life in the town she had grown up in and was raised by her two older sisters. She entered the Carmalite convent in Lisieux when she was just 15. Yet, she has become one of the Doctors of the Church! She is often called “the little flower” and she is most well known for her “little way,” of following Jesus. It’s simple; she just put herself in the place of a child and did whatever he commanded her. She willed His will to be the way of her life and so she let go of any of her own desires, making her only desire – His desires. She wrote of being God’s “plaything.” She wanted to offer herself to the Child Jesus, not to be used as “a valuable toy children are content to look at but dare not touch, but to use me as a little ball of no value which he could throw on the ground, push with His foot, pierce, leave in a corner, or press to His heart if it pleased Him.” More than desiring to feel valued or to get her own way, Therese desired for Jesus to be pleased, no matter what cost that came to her. Her desire for Him was greater than her desire for herself. From St. Thérèse of Lisieux’s autobiography, The Story of a Soul:
“I wanted to find an elevator which would raise me to Jesus, for I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection. I searched, then in the Scriptures for some sign of this elevator, the object of my desires, and I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom:
‘Whoever is a LITTLE ONE, let him come to me.’” (Proverbs 9:4)
and
‘As one whom a mother caresses, so will I comfort you; you shall be carried at the breasts, and upon the knees they shall caress you.’
Ah, never did words more tender and more melodious come to give joy to my soul. The elevator which must raise me to heaven is Your arms, O Jesus! And for this I had no need to grow up, but rather I had to remain little and become this more and more.”
“Now abandonment alone guides me. I have no other compass! I can no longer ask for anything with fervor except the accomplishment of God’s will in my soul without any creature being able to set obstacles in the way. I can speak these words of the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross:
… After I have known it
LOVE works so in me
That whether things go well or badly
Love turns them to one sweetness
Transforming the soul in ITSELF.”
This Thursday Chris and I will be going on a pilgrimage with our church to Lisieux - so more on Thérèse will be coming soon!
