The Sacraments of Middle Earth

"...those who have dwelt in the Blessed Realm live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and the Unseen they have great power." "Yes, you saw him for a moment as he is upon the other side: one of the mighty of the Firstborn." Thus Tolkien has Gandalf describe the Elf-lord Glorfindel in The Fellowship of the Ring. 

I have long suspected J.R.R. Tolkien of being one who lived in both worlds at once. Witness his keen perception of and appreciation for both physical and spiritual realities. But I think that this is a common trait that is (or should be) shared by all Christians. And, if  I may say this without unseemly predjudice, I find that this is especially observable in the Catholic Church. The Mass is seen as heaven on earth, the realities of the spiritual world intersecting and mingling with the clear realities of time and space. For example, during the Sanctus we are called upon to realize that our voices singing "Holy, Holy, Holy" are truly joined with the voices of the angels as they sing in another realm. We are made to realize that we are living "at once in both worlds."

Perhaps this is nowhere more true than in the Sacraments, those great mysteries of our Faith. We see the material reality of water poured out upon one's head, as Grace is simultaneously poured out into one's soul. A person can smell the incensed "oil of gladness", and  feel it upon upon one's hair and skin, while being confirmed interiorly in the Holy Spirit. We know that the Priest that absolves or consecrates is simply a stand-in; it is Christ absolving, Christ consecrating. And most of all, we may hopefully come to see our Lord hidden under the appearance of bread and wine.

What does all of this have to do with Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings? Simply this: I believe that Tolkien's works are fundamentally sacramental. I believe that a sacramental understanding of reality underlies and breathes through page after page of Tolkien's works. It is easy to go to extremes in reading him. We may be tempted to deny any hint of allegory, since the author denied that his works were allegorical. But remember, he was insisting upon this in response to the idea that one of his chapters was meant to be an allegory of post-WWII England ("The Scouring of the Shire"). After all, in another place, Tolkien says that the books were "at first unconsciously, then later consciously Christian, and specifically Catholic." (Take the quotes loosely here, I'm quoting from memory, but I think it's fairly close.)  It is also possible to go to the other extreme and read too much into Tolkien's intentions and make the books strictly allegorical. But I do not think that it would  be at all wrong to recognize the underlying sacramentalism of the Trilogy.

I was deeply attracted to The Lord of the Rings as a boy, but for years I knew nothing about the author. There was an atmosphere that was almost indescribable about the books, but I was not aware of what it was, nor was I then aware that Tolkien was a Catholic. Even once I knew, it still took time to realize more fully that I liked the books specifically because of their "Catholicness". (Is that a word?) Tolkien's writing stands apart and above most other works in their genre. The hauntingly beautiful scenes of the Trilogy have some sense of a gripping and glorious reality that distances them from mere fantasy. One feels in reading them that these things are not only how one would want things to be, but perhaps the way things ought to be. Perhaps, if one could see clearly enough, they express the way things really are.... 

When king Theoden charges across the Pelennor Fields, to his death, against the armies of darkness, white flowers blossom in the gloom around his horse's hooves. I do not feel that this is merely charming or poetic. Rather, the sense is that white flowers ought to bloom at that moment; nature expressing the truths we cannot see. When a horrible monster is slain and no grass will ever grow upon that place, I clearly feel that no grass ought to grow there. And reading about the miraculously light and sustaining lembas bread calls to mind the Eucharist. Time and time again we see sacramentalism imbuing the pages of the Trilogy.

I am aware that the Sacraments have been a point of division among Christians for many years now. Of course, the Orthodox still have valid Sacraments; and Anglican, Lutheran, and other Christians still hold certain sacramental beliefs. The complete eradication of sacramental theology occurs principally in fundamentalist thought. The Sacraments are viewed with suspicion or even antipathy, as superstitions, even as some base belief in magic. They represent to the fundamentalist mind a corruption of pure spirituality. I am not concerned here with discussing the specific Sacraments, nor attempting to prove them by Scripture and the Tradition of the Church Fathers. I hope to write more on those matters in a coming series of posts. I simply want to make one clear point here. The Sacraments are not rooted in superstition. They were not invented out of thin air in response to some pagan urge for magic. No, their root is elsewhere. They spring from one great and glorious Fact: the Incarnation. They have their source in the God-Man Jesus, and from Him they flow to form the Church, as the Blood and Water flowed from His side on Calvary, as Eve was taken from the side of Adam.

If the unintentionally, yet subtly Manichean tendencies of fundamentalism are repulsed at the concept that God would use matter to accomplish His Spiritual purposes, let us remember that He became man for that very reason. The Sacraments go with the Incarnation. If it is too much to believe that water is used to cleanse us of our sins, then it is too much to believe that Blood can cleanse us either. If we cannot imagine God becoming our Food, then how can we imagine that He became a man? If Grace cannot come through matter, then how did God work through a body? If we deny the Sacraments we are in great peril of misunderstanding the Incarnation. Christianity has been sacramental from the start. Body and Spirit, Grace and Matter. God has not abandoned nor been ashamed of His Creation.

And going further back, we remember, as we see the Church standing against the Manicheans and their relatives through the centuries, that in the beginning God created. And He said that it was good....

I said earlier that Tolkien's books tell us much of how things ought to be, or perhaps really are. I am reminded of the Incorruptibles, the saints whose undecomposed bodies remain inexplicable, testaments to God's work. I am reminded of the English confessor (whose name I do not remember), who was beheaded by a king for his refusal to reveal a secret told him in confession. He held his tongue to the death. When his body was later exhumed for examination during the careful canonization process, it was discovered that all of his corpse was decomposed.

Except for his tongue. It was still fresh.

So the flowers grow forever on Theoden's grave, and the Incorruptibles remain as they were. Perhaps we would do well to remember Creation and the Incarnation as we ponder the Sacraments. It may even change the way we see things, the way we live. Whether we are talking about the Seven Sacraments, the sacramentals, or simply the Creation that shows forth "the handiwork of God", let us remember that we truly live at once in both worlds, walking with both the Seen and the Unseen, living in mysteries too great for our comprehension.