Jenna Leigh Design Co.

I’ve been reading The Lord of the Rings from start to finish for the second time, and it has been a thoroughly delightful experience. The older I get, the more I enjoy Tolkien’s language, style, and imagination. I could actually envision their journey through Middle-Earth as I took the time to map out in my head the forests, rivers, mountains, and valleys. I pictured the characters (from the movies) and heard their voices talking as I read. I’m now about to start the last chapter of The Return of the King, and I don’t want it to end.

The themes in these books are expansive and I could dive deep, but for time’s sake and your sake I won’t. And let’s not turn every little bit of it into an allegory that J.R.R. Tolkien never intended. But there is a rich and beautiful thread of redemption woven throughout the story, and to miss it would be tragic.

“I am glad that you are here with me,” said Frodo. “Here at the end of all things, Sam.”
“Yes, I am with you, Master,” said Sam, laying Frodo’s wounded hand gently to his breast. “And you’re with me. And the journey’s finished. But after coming all that way I don’t want to give up yet. It’s not like me, somehow, if you understand.” (The Return of the King, p. 244)

In the midst of the war against Sauron, darkness has fallen heavily on the land and on the hearts of those who resist him. There is no hope for victory, only despair and doom. Even the sun and moon have been darkened, and gloom covers the sky.

Yet somehow the faithful do not give up. Even in despair, even at the brink of the world that they knew coming to an end in death and horror, they push back against the darkness. They will do everything in their power to fight until the last moment. Surrender is simply not an option.

This is seen in Gandalf, Aragorn, Faramir, and many others, but I see it primarily in Sam. Sam sees the Ring and Frodo to the fires of Mount Doom. Sam refuses to give up hope, even when he has none. There is a dogged will in him that must go on, that must follow through to the end, though all the world is against him.

“Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?” (p. 246)

I think that in regard to the faith we would do well to imitate the stoutheartedness of Sam. It is the narrow way that leads to life, harrowed with peril, darkness, and difficulty, and it is those who stumble on, straining ever further towards the light, who will find it at last.

J.R.R. Tolkien once said, “No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.” The Lord of the Rings, and Sam’s relentless loyalty, are a testament to what he actually believed. As followers of Jesus we were never promised an easy life; in fact, we were promised quite the opposite. But even in the darkest of times, in discouragement and despair, a glimmer of light remains to us; hope that defies belief, courage to press on. We must give ourselves whole-heartedly or not at all.

“But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 3:13b-14)

Sam’s character reminds me of the beauty of fist-clenching, teeth-gritting, soul-mustering perseverance. I am not journeying with Frodo to cast the Ring into the fires of Mordor, but I am carrying a burden to the end of this life with the hopes of throwing it off forever and entering into a glorious eternity, where the darkness is overthrown for good, and the shadows are no more. If we do not persevere in this journey of faithfulness, we will not reach the end.

But take heart. Glory is coming for the ones who do.