Watching
The Lord of the Rings With God
Have you ever wondered why The Lord of the Rings” so
resonates with your soul? It’s not a coincidence that a tale of good and
evil, heroism and sacrifice, friendship and love touches you as
intensely as it does. J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t set out to write an
allegory, but his faith is woven into his characters and the situations
they encounter. Director Peter Jackson set out with no agenda other than
to transcribe some of these wonders to the big screen. Little did he
know what truths translated from the page to the screen.
Maybe some of the symbolism you’re already familiar with. Gandalf as a
Christ figure, for example. But what else can you learn from these
tales?
“Watching ‘The Lord of the Rings’ With God” will open your eyes to the
symbolism, allegorical aspects, and subtle wonders of Middle-earth in a
way you never expected… as you watch the franchise with God at your
side.
Author's Notes:
I know what you are thinking.
Tolkien did not write allegories. He hated allegories. What is the
matter with you, trying to shove all this religion into his story?
Hold off. I don't claim Tolkien intended any of this. That's not the point I'm making. This is a simple tale of God horning his way onto my couch, taking up more than his fair share of space, and interrupting me every five seconds as he points out things he wants me to learn.
God can be obnoxious. God can be persistent. I have a feeling when Tolkien was writing his little tale, and when Peter Jackson (hereafter called "P.J.") was editing it all together, God was sitting over their shoulders, nudging them, pointing, and saying, "Oh, wait, put me in this part... this is good."
He is annoying like that.
So wipe that judgmental scowl off your face and kick back with the extended versions of The Lord of the Rings films. Familiarity with them is necessary, not optional, unless you like being totally lost. Each chapter in this book corresponds with a chapter in the extended films. If you have not seen them yet, go buy them. I will wait.
God is about to irritate and inspire you, and give you a kick in the seat of the pants wherever you need it. If he doesn't make you mad by the end, he's not doing his job (and he always does his job). After this, you'll never look at Middle-earth the same way again.
Excerpt:
When you watch a movie, you want silence: no talking, no cell phones buzzing, ringing, or vibrating, no annoying child kicking your seat, and especially no one whispering in the row behind you through the entire movie. When that happens, you turn around and glare at them.
If they’re anything like God, they won’t shut up.
I know.
He goes to the movies with me. He even sits beside me on the couch and
watches them with me at home. Nor can I get away from him at a friend’s
house! I am starting to think he is stalking me.
Or maybe we’re just in a relationship?
Either way, I have two options:
1) tune him out (which isn’t easy)
2) listen (which also isn’t easy)
This time we’re watching The Lord of the Rings extended trilogy. The
movie begins. I’m caught up in all the excitement, the gleaming armor,
the orcs being slaughtered left and right, Lord Elrond calmly standing
by while a dozen arrows fly by his shiny, perfect hair, and then—
You know that there’s a lot of symbolism in this, right?
I tear my eyes reluctantly from the screen.
How Sauron’s back history is a lot like Satan’s, and how the Creator
threw him out of Valinor? He got peeved, went to Middle-earth, got
jealous of the Firstborn, and decided to control them, so—
“—he tricks them into forging the Rings of Power like the Serpent did
Eve into eating the Forbidden Fruit. Their desire for knowledge made
them susceptible to his evil influence. I’m trying to watch, do you
mind?”
I turn my back on him, hoping he’ll take the hint. The camera pans
across a vista of armor-plated armies colliding in brute force and sheer
epic violence—
Hmm, he says.
That’s it. Just hmm. I won’t rise to the bait. I refuse.
We sit in silence, or rather, the sound of wanton battle.
I can’t stand it anymore. “What?”
Sauron is about to appear. The dude’s almost as epic as my hot fudge
sundae brownies.
The armor tells you about their standing with the Creator.
I look. The Elves wear gold, since they’re the most badass thing in
Middle-earth, not that I’m prejudiced or anything. Men, as all-around
losers often under the influence of the Ring, wear silver. Orcs, as
befits the drudges of non-humanity and irredeemable scum wads, wear
black metal.
“Oh, that’s cool. Did P.J. actually know about—?”
Nope. That was all me.
God is like that. He’s smug. I suppose that if I created the entire
universe, I’d be smug too.
Isildur whacks the Ring from Sauron’s hand. Instead of throwing it into
the fire, he keeps it. He has no thought for the misery he creates, nor
does he realize this single selfish action will cause Frodo to look
pathetic over the course of three movies. Let’s not even talk about how
it forces the Elves to leave Middle-earth.
I glance sideways at God, but for once, he doesn’t bring up the Garden
of Eden. Why not? It’s obvious! More than just Isildur suffers for his
stupidity; everyone else suffers with him. All humankind inherits a
weakness for the Ring. It’s a prime opportunity to mention it.
He doesn’t.
After several minutes of me staring at him, he asks what?
“Nothing. I just expected you to say something about Inherited Sin and
its consequence of death, that’s all. Our tendency toward it ever since
Eve nibbled that apple, how mankind can’t free itself from the influence
of sin or escape death until Jesus intervenes, draw parallels to how
Gondor is in trouble until the one ‘perfect’ king, Aragorn, resists the
Ring…”
It’s too obvious. I’ve done the whole burning bush, pillar of fire thing
before. Let me be subtle once in awhile!
Isildur floats downriver. Galadriel’s voice-over tells us how the Ring
is lost and everyone forgets about it (except her because she’s perfect…
minus the momentary dark queen thing, but we all have bad days).
Bilbo stumbles across the Ring. I scowl. That’s not how it happens
on-screen in The Hobbit. Why isn’t there better consistency in the
films? Don’t the filmmakers know dorks like me exist purely to watch for
tiny changes and complain about them?
“Okay, so how about giving me an example of subtle?”
God puts his feet on my coffee table. I like what Galadriel says about
how some things that should not be forgot are lost and Middle-earth
suffers as a result. If they’d remembered the threat of the Ring, it
couldn’t have survived for so long. Because they choose to forget
important things, everyone feels the pain of the consequences. Many
people suffer and die because rather than accept truths they don’t want
to hear, they let them slip into the past. The same thing is happening
now, in your culture. The things I have told you for centuries aren’t
what society wants to hear. You can choose to be like one of the masses,
or you can be like Galadriel, and remember what others have lost.
I chew on my straw. “But you’re always in control, right? Sure, there
are times in history when the Israelites were enslaved and their future
looked bleak, just like the future of Middle-earth looks bleak to
Galadriel right now with the loss of the Ring, but you still had a plan…
just like the Creator in Middle-earth has a hobbit plan!”
This makes him smile.
Now, you’re catching on.
