"I Don't Know What the Likes of Me Can Do"

    Many years ago I had a professor who intimated that, contrary to the evidence of our eyes, he was indeed Gandalf. He was just in disguise since getting a sword through the airport would have been slightly tricky. That semester, I began earnestly developing my love for literature, and Tolkien's Lord of the Rings in particular. Since then, I have on average read Tolkien's epic once a year.

    Over the last couple of years, I have been particularly struck by a piece of conversation that takes place fairly early in the story. Frodo and Aragorn have just related to Barliman Butterbur, an innkeeper, that in helping them he will be facing forces from Mordor. In light of this information, they want to know whether he still wants to assist them. Tolkien relates his answer this way:

 "I am," said Mr. Butterbur. "More than ever. Though I don't know what the likes of me can do against, against---" he faltered.

"Against the shadow in the East," said Strider quietly. "Not much, Barliman, but every little helps."¹

    This idea of inability, or limited agency, recurs repeatedly through Tolkien's saga. Examples could include Frodo's "I do not know the way" in Rivendell, Theoden's description of himself as a lesser man, Denethor's despair at winning the war with Mordor, and Sam's reluctance to continue the quest when he thinks Shelob has killed Frodo. Each of these moments in their way capture Barliman Butterbur's "I don't know what the likes of me can do." Each of these characters is brought to face with how small they are in the face of the evil they are opposing.

    Part of the refreshment in Tolkien's story is that he does not undermine this question, but rather gives it  full weight. In the hands of a slightly more contemporary storyteller, one would expect the protagonist to discover that they were uniquely equipped to address the evil they find in the world. The apparent limits on their agency end up being limits of perception, rather than limits in reality. Without discounting the value of those storylines, it is worth noting that Tolkien generally supports his character's assessment of themselves. Even when it turns out that they were stronger than they realized, their additional strength does not give them the resources to successfully confront the evil in Middle Earth.

    And yet, they do win. How? Before we can fully explore that answer, we ought to look at Madeline L'Engle's Wrinkle in Time series. Specifically, the second book in that series, A Wind in the Door.

    In A Wind in the Door, the Murry family's youngest, Charles, is dying, but for no reason which doctors can identify. As his older sister, Meg, seeks to discover the case of and heal Charles' illness, the reader is taken on a trip that spans from galaxies to cells in the human body. A key point that is brought out in the story is that all members of creation are interconnected and have specific roles to play relative to each other: ". . . we all need each other. Every atom in the universe is dependent on every other."² Because of this need of each for the others, "A fara or a man or a star has his place in the universe, but nothing created is the center."³ Not being in the center does not detract from one's importance. Rather, it recognizes that no one person or thing is all-important, requiring no support from others. In the end, Charles is healed, but only as a result of everyone else playing their part. Separation leads to disorder and chaos. Unity, though, brings greater harmony and order.

    Return to Barliman Butterbur. The fact that my own resources and efforts are minuscule in the face of the disorder and injustice in the world is quite obvious. More often than not, I find myself repeating with him, "I don't know what the likes of me can do." What both Tolkien and L'Engle affirm is that when this is our perspective, we are grasping an essential truth. On our own, we cannot defeat evil. However, that is not the end of the story. They go on to remind us that "every little helps",  and "every atom in the universe is dependent on every other." We cannot personally right what is wrong with the world. But, the interconnections in the world mean that the effects of our small actions ripple out in ways we rarely can anticipate.

    In the end, I am sure that this is rehashing ideas that others have done a better job explaining. Still, with the general unrest in the world, we have all been faced in a new way with our inadequacies. Like me, perhaps, you need the reminder that "can I make a significant enough difference" ought to be reframed to "what can I do now?" It may not be much--but, it was never supposed to be much. It was supposed to be the piece that supported the work of those around you.

What are particular wrongs in the world which capture your attention?

What skill sets or strengths do you have which allow you to speak to those wrongs?

---

Notes and References

1. J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord Of The Rings (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1993), 185.

2. Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time Trilogy (New York: Square Fish, 2012), 441.

3. Ibid., 431.

"The hands of a king are the hands of a healer"

"The hands of a king are the hands of a healer." As the last part of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings series unfolds, this sentence clues us in on one of the ways that the people of Middle Earth will recognize the True King. At the same time, Tolkien's words also identify a facet of Christ's character.

Before the impact of Tolkien's words can be appreciated, there is an important fact which needs to be understood: The world around us is broken. Completely broken. And, as Schaeffer points out The God Who Is There, this brokenness creates separation. Separation from God, separation from who we are, separation from those around us, and separation from the world in which we live. Because of sin, the world is not as it should be, nor can we relate to it the way we ought.

Understanding the state of the world opens up part of what Christ's salvation means - healing. Paul expresses this in Romans 8:
"For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God." (Romans 8:19-21 ESV) As Paul unpacks for us, the whole world was caught in our fall - but it will be restored as Christ's victory is completed.

The hands of a King are the hands of a healer. Christ demonstrates His authority through the healing He brings to the world. Christ does not seek merely to subdue the rebellion against His rule, He pursues a re-creation of the world which was damaged by this rebellion. The Gospel is not just a message about the defeat of sin. It is a message about God making all things new. This has two distinct impacts on our lives right now.

First, we can trust Christ to completely heal us, eradicating sin at both its deepest and widest reaches in our lives. When Christ restores, the impact is felt in all of our relationships. Being set right with God also means being set in right relationship with the rest of God's world. It means that the death which sin brought to the core of our being and to every area of our lives has been and is being removed. Some of this healing will be an ongoing work through the rest of our lives, but we can trust Christ to provide the healing, strength, and grace to outwork this new life each day.

Second, the effect of the Gospel on our lives is a witness to others of Christ's authority. Schaeffer puts it this way in The God Who Is There: "What we are called to do, upon the basis of the finished work of Christ in the power of the Spirit through faith, is to exhibit a substantial healing, individual and then corporate, so that people may observe it. This too is a portion of the apologetic: a presentation which gives at least some demonstration that these things are not theoretical but real; not perfect, yet substantial." In other words, our witness to others is not solely that the Rightful King has returned and we can prove His credentials, but also that His rule has brought healing to our lives. The healing impact of the Gospel in and through the Church demonstrates to others that Christ is the foundation of reality.

The hands of a king are the hands of a healer. A life that is justified at the Cross will be a life characterized of substantial healing in the world around them - the result of an application of the Gospel to all of life. Not only will their life be healed, but they will then extend that healing to the world around them.

As you look back on your life, can you see areas where Christ's healing has changed you? What opportunities do you have to extend His healing to the world around you?

It's Not Enough To Be Right...

For those of you who were not aware, I just completed a major undertaking. I finished reading Les Miserables. The work was worth it! If you haven't read it, you're in for a treat once you get there. Since I just wrapped it up, I thought I'd share one of the ideas which jumped out at me from the book.

"It's not enough to be right. You have to be right for the right reasons." Dr. Bauman hammered this key idea into us at Summit's Semester program. Arriving at the right conclusion for the wrong reasons leaves you with a weak foundation that ultimately will not support you. Victor Hugo pictured this in the character Javert.

To understand Hugo's picture though, we need to get to know Javert a bit. For Javert, right and wrong were determined by the state. If one was on the side of the state, then they were in the right and those opposed to it were in the wrong. To quote Hugo's description: "On the one hand he would say, 'A public official cannot be deceived; a magistrate is never wrong!' And on the other, "They are irremediably lost; no good can come of them.'"

Over the course of the book though, Javert's life intersects several times with Jean Valjean, the ex-convict whose life was turned around by his encounter with Bishop Myriel. Witnessing Valjean's changed life, including an act of mercy extended to Javert himself, leads to Javert to to rethink his view on the world. In the end, Javert's world is rocked:

"His ultimate anguish was the loss of all certainty. He felt uprooted. The code was no longer anything but a stump in his hand. He was dealing with scruples of an unknown species. Within him there was a revelation of feeling entirely distinct from the declarations of the law, his only standard hitherto...An entire new world appeared to his soul...a mysterious justice according to God going counter to justice according to men. In the darkness he could see the fearful rising of an unknown moral sun; he was horrified and blinded by it. An owl compelled to an eagle's gaze."

Javert had, generally speaking, arrived at the right view of the world. The government is designed to enforce God's rule. To the degree that it does, rebellion against it is rebellion against God. However, Javert's foundation was the assumption that the government is infallible and therefore the standard for right and wrong. Discredit that assumption, make God the foundation, and nothing makes sense anymore for Javert. "He felt uprooted...An owl compelled to an eagle's gaze."

There are two lessons here for us. First, why you believe what you believe is just as important as what you believe. We shouldn't be content to settle for what seems to be the right answer - our goal should be to know why it is the right answer. Second, we should remember where absolute truth resides - in God. As hard as we work to understand "why", we will inevitably go astray, or find places where we have gone astray in the past, or find that we don't understand "why" as much as we should. The fact is, these discoveries can be unsettling. Suddenly realizing that the house you had worked hard to build was built with cards can be deeply disturbing. Remembering that God is the source of truth can help us to realize that what we are experiencing is not the world falling apart, but us realigning with the world as God created it.

I've found myself in Javert's shoes before and it's a pretty safe guess that I'll be back in them before long. Odds are, you're in a similar boat. Let's learn from Javert's experience and realize that even after doing our due diligence in studying out why we believe something, we could be wrong. Unlike Javert, finding out that we were wrong should not destroy us. Instead, we can turn to God as the source of all Truth for the answers we need and build again on a solid foundation.

Have you had an "owl compelled to an eagle's gaze" experience before? If so, what have you learned from it - whether a change in your thinking or lessons for how to work with similar experiences in the future?

A Most Wretched Adventure...Right in the House

"Seems to know as much about the inside of my larders as I do myself!" thought Mr. Baggins, who was feeling positively flummoxed, and was beginning to wonder whether a most wretched adventure had not come right into his house."

This delightful little quip from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit jumped to my attention about a month or so ago. Not surprisingly, it jumped out at me because it resonated with where life was, and is, for me. In order to fully understand the impact of this quote, a bit of background on Hobbits, and Mr. Bilbo Baggins in particular, is in order.

Hobbits are one of the creatures which populate Middle Earth, the world created in Tolkien's books. Identifying characteristics include: hairy feet, child sized height, and a love of food, pipe smoking, and song. More importantly though, hobbits hate anything out of the ordinary. They like life to be pleasant, familiar, and generally speaking, comfortable. Anything which smacks of adventure is to be avoided at any cost.

At the time of the quote above, Bilbo Baggins' life has been nearly turned upside down. A band of 13 dwarves has descended on his house, invited themselves to tea, and are about to whisk him away on a long journey full of many perils and dangers. While he's not aware of the trip he is about to take, Bilbo has some unsettling premonitions that an adventure is afoot. What's more, the adventure seems to be forcing its way into his life, whether he likes it or not. Not only is it forcing its way into his life, it's come right into his house! Forget privacy or a place to retreat. Apparently nowhere is safe when trying to avoid the adventure.

Isn't life often like this? One doesn't get to chose the adventures you go on, or when they happen. They simply invite themselves in and take you with them. And, they usually come along at very inconvenient moments. You know, the times where the very last thing you want to have is an adventure mixing up life for you. Further, they usually don't seem to want to leave you alone. As you crawl into your safe places of retreat, the adventures seem to find a way to follow you.

For better or worse, though, we don't have the option to pick and chose our adventures. As Lewis puts it in The Last Battle, we need to "take the adventure that Aslan sends us", even when that's a wretched adventure that is forcing its way right into our house. Knowing who is in charge of history makes all the difference in how we approach the twists that come up in our lives.

Most of my post has explained what adventures can be like. How to interact with them is an important follow up question. Assuming you agree with my description of adventures, how would you encourage someone to think about "taking the adventure"?

But They Never Came to Rivendell

Life is not always a bed of roses. Sometimes its more of a road with rocks waiting to trip you up. That's where life has been for me recently. Rough, stressful, challenging. Full time work and full time school, an upcoming move from the community I've built up, plus a few other things are all stacking up. And I don't know about you, but I don't really like it here, in the rocky road. Pain is never really fun. One can only pretend that it's all good for so long on their own. In that context, I came across this quote in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings:

"...they missed a dark and dangerous journey. But they never came to Rivendell."

In the course of the book, this quote is actually talking about the Hobbits ponies that were scared off during the attack on the Inn at Bree. In this little aside, Tolkien relates to us how they missed the rest of the difficult journey which Frodo and Company took. However, this also meant that they never made it to Rivendell, the elven refuge for rest and encouragement. In the tales of Tolkien's world, it is also aptly referred to as The Last Homely House.

Why take time to look at this brief snapshot? Because we often are on the dark and dangerous journey, whether we like it or not, whether we chose it or not. This snapshot of the hobbit's ponies encouraged me to rise above myself and see the bigger picture. Sure, life is difficult now, but Rivendell is at the end of the difficulties. Paul puts it this way in 2 Corinthians: "For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." (2 Corinthians 4:17-18 ESV)

If, like me, you are on one of life's rocky stretches, take heart. Rivendell is up ahead. Once we get there, we'll be able to see how the rough stretch was worth it.

There is certainly more that could be said about how to live life well in the middle of difficulty. In addition to looking forward to the benefits at the end, how else should we approach life's rough times? Do we take something away from the benefit of the pain if we focus solely on resolving and healing it?

Of Leading and Reading

Leaders are readers

This phrase has a a cliche feel. It's one of those phrases which contains a gold mine of truth and consequently is thrown around so much that it gets worn out. Today however, two sentences from a school book shed some light on why this phrase rings true:

"Whatever role others might play, it is Tutu who is the compass. He guides us in several ways, the most important of which is language."

These sentences from Country of My Skull highlight one of the most important tools leaders have at their disposal: words. You see, because Truth really is true, our words are either true or false. Either they accurately describe and depict reality, or they present a sham world.

If we are going to lead others effectively, we need to clearly, concisely, and correctly communicate about the world. There is no other option. You see, Evil has a way of painting up its own version of the world which looks deceptively accurate. It has had quite a bit of time to learn how to take what is false and make it look like reality. This means that if we are going to be effective in the Battle between Truth and Falsehood, we need to be skilled in the wielding of words. We need to be able to paint reality in such vivid and accurate colors that the sham world will be shown up for what it is.

One of the first steps in wielding words is to have the words to begin with. As a friend pointed out in a blog post on our company's website, the best way to gain these words is by reading. Interact with the thoughts left by others in their books leaves a fuller understanding on how the world really works. The more this understanding is developed, the better we will be able to verbally express our thoughts. 

Simply put, leaders read because it gives them the vocabulary with which to lead. It allows them to be able to clearly communicate how to go about living a good life.

In case you do not have a list of books you will be working on, here are a few which I have found to contain quite a bit of insight into the world: The Bible, The Lord of the Rings, and A Severe Mercy. They are all worth reading and rereading.

If you aren't in the middle of a book right now, please start one. According to Dr. Michael Bauman: "You either master language, or are mastered by those who do." Mastering or being mastered, the choice is up to you.

Above I listed several books which I have found to clearly communicate truth about the world. What books have you come across which did the same for you?

Why Read Fiction?

Why read fiction?

I mean, why would one want to read a story that never really took place? Couldn't your time be much better spent reading what has actually happened (history) or thoughts on how the world actually works (theology, philosophy ect.)? That was certainly my thought once upon a time. Fiction was a pleasure that I rarely let myself indulge in, because I wanted to keep my mental muscles in tone, and reading something for the pleasure of the story would only make them flabby. Fortunately for me, one of my professors at Summit Semester helped me to see fiction in a completely new light. In his book, The Everlasting Man, G.K. Chesterton sums up this new perspective well:


"We know the meaning of all the myths.. We know the last secret revealed to the perfect initiate. And it is not the voice of a priest or a prophet saying, 'These things are.' It is the voice of a dreamer and an idealist crying, 'Why cannot these things be?'"

"Why cannot these things be?" Could this be why the fictitious stories in literature touch us in a way which is uniquely different from the facts of history or the abstractions of great thinkers? Couldn't it be because we know that the would ought to be different, and that what we experience in our lives are not really the experiences for which we were ultimately made?

Further on in The Everlasting Man, Chesterton muses on what the shepherds found when they were lead to Christ on the first Christmas Day. His thoughts highlight the importance which story can have in understanding our faith:

"The place that the shepherds found was not an academy or an abstract republic; it was not a place of myths allegorized or dissected or explained  or explained away. It was a place of dreams come true. Since that hour no mythologies have been made in the world. Mythology is a search"


In Christianity, the stories are made true. The Velveteen Rabbit comes to life. The things which the idealist wishes were, really are, and are in a much larger and fuller way than he could ever have imagined. As Chesterton puts it elsewhere in The Everlasting Man: "But in reality the rivers of mythology and philosophy run parallel and do not mingle till they meet in the sea of Christendom." In Christianity we find a unity between the logical abstractions of what is true about the world and the stories which attempt to paint the picture of those same truths.

So, again, why read fiction? One ought to read fiction to shake themselves awake from the stupor that comes from looking at the broken world in front of us and trying to make sense of it. One ought to read fiction to bring out the wonder and awe which only a picture of the truth can bring. One ought to read fiction to learn what questions need to be asked about reality. As God's reveled Truth, the Bible contains all the answers we will ever need in this life. However, sometimes in our day-to-day lives we can lose sight of what we were looking for in the first place. Dipping into the search of mythology can help remind us again of the object of our search: Jesus Christ Who is both The Word become Flesh and the Truth.

That is why I read fiction.

What do you think? Is this accurate? Have I overstated my case? Could it be a more nuanced? Leave a comment and join the conversation!