The book, as glimpsed through these pages, sets out to explore the spiritual themes woven into the epic tale of _The Lord of the Rings_, focusing particularly on what the author calls "ordinary virtues." The author feels a deep personal connection to the story, having read it since he was eleven and returning to it year after year for sustenance and guidance on what is "good and right and noble" in the world. Visiting Middle-earth is described as feeling like coming home, a blessing that grows more poignant the farther one feels from their real one. It's a vast, minutely detailed world, filled with characters who feel like old friends, some simple and accessible like Sam, others more mysterious like Tom Bombadil or Treebeard. The author finds in Middle-earth a kind of training ground, a place to apprentice to characters whose virtues like charity, wisdom, kindness, mercy, love, and faithfulness surpass his own. Tolkien's detailed descriptions of the natural world are so infectious that hiking in unspoiled corners of our own world often brings to mind places like Ithilien, Lothlórien, or the Shire. It's important to understand that Tolkien's work, according to the author, sounds a lot like the Bible, not the other way around. This connection isn't accidental, as Tolkien was a devout Catholic who believed his history of Middle-earth was essentially true on some level, not invented but discovered, with God having a hand in its writing through Tolkien's life circumstances, intuition, and wisdom. Tolkien's ideas were even instrumental in C. S. Lewis's conversion to Christianity, based on the insight that myths aren't necessarily lies, and the story of Christ is a "true myth" that really happened. Tolkien argued that myths woven by humans, while containing error, reflect fragments of "the true light, the eternal truth that is with God," and that myth-making allows Man to aspire to the perfection known before the Fall, steering, however shakily, towards "the true harbour." Tolkien himself, however, didn't preach or write sermons in his story; he simply told a tale, allowing characters freedom to make their own decisions. He disliked allegory, which he saw as the author's "purposed domination," making a distinction with applicability, which "resides in the freedom of the reader." This book is presented as the author's "humble attempt" to search out some of these applicabilities in _The Lord of the Rings_. Middle-earth, being self-contained yet removed from our "real world," offers an easier way to learn lessons than by studying our own history. Along with _The Silmarillion_, which provides the cosmology and history, _The Lord of the Rings_ offers a complete story arc – beginning, middle, and end – again mirroring the Bible's scope and supplementing it by showing eternal truths from a different perspective, though it can never replace it. The book then seems structured around exploring these "ordinary virtues" found in Middle-earth, dedicating sections to them. Let's look at the ones covered in the provided excerpts: **Simplicity** Hobbits are presented as the epitome of simplicity: a rustic people with little interest in machinery or the wider world, fond of eating, prizing predictability, and despising adventures as "nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things." Despite being unlikely heroes, it was a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, whom Gandalf chose for a crucial mission, showing that cleverness and resourcefulness can be found in unexpected places. The long peace of the Shire had made hobbits appear soft, but they hadn't lost their inherent strength – a "seed of courage" hidden deep within, waiting for danger to make it grow. This seed lies dormant until needed, and simple people, though sometimes short-sighted and provincial, gain wisdom and perspective often only through calamity. Frodo reflects on wanting to save the Shire, even though he sometimes found its inhabitants "dull and stupid," realizing that knowing the Shire is safe makes his own difficult journey more bearable. The maddening simplicity of hobbits is seen at Bilbo's Birthday Party, where many attend mainly for the free feast and fireworks, showing little understanding or care for Bilbo's past adventures and accomplishments. Strength, the book suggests, isn't created by adversity but merely awakened by it. Hobbits are protected by more sophisticated peoples who understand that simplicity isn't weakness. As Aragorn says, "If simple folk are free from care and fear, simple they will be." However, this protection doesn't prevent them from attempting heroic deeds themselves. They face calamity later, having a chance to learn their true mettle, and the hope is they will remain simple but become wiser and more compassionate. Their "plain hobbit-sense" sustains the adventuring hobbits in their darkest moments. But there's often more to simple friends than meets the eye. Frodo is surprised by Sam's poetic response to the Elves, noting a thoughtfulness that didn't sound like the old Sam he thought he knew, revealing unsuspected depths of character often seen when friends are viewed in different contexts or with strangers. If simplicity itself is a virtue, then living simple lives and cherishing simple pleasures have value, meaning we don't need to feel guilty about not doing "more" for a larger purpose until called upon, being content to build roots and enjoy good things. When called, it could be to a dangerous journey or a simpler confrontation like an unethical boss; the simple are not safe from these. Or, the calling might simply be to live well within one's birth community, which is not to be despised. The tale offers hope that strength and help will be given for whatever task is set. - _Ponder this:_ How can we recognize the "seed of courage" in ourselves and others, and what simple pleasures might we be overlooking in the rush of modern life? **Generosity** Hobbit birthday parties feature a curious reversal: the guest of honor gives presents. While many gifts are recycled, this tradition paved the way for Bilbo's extraordinary act of giving away most of his possessions before leaving the Shire. Bilbo was always generous, especially to poorer hobbits, but this grand gesture built momentum for giving away the one thing he couldn't bear to part with: the Ring. Frodo received the Ring freely, without guilt about how it was obtained, which, while not ultimately helping him release it, was essential for him to get as far as he did, as guilt gnaws at the soul and brings despair. This freedom from a guilty conscience was a gift from Bilbo, even as he burdened Frodo with the Ring. Generosity isn't just about possessions; it can be shown in opinions and how we speak of others. The old Gaffer, Sam's father, demonstrates this with kind words about Mr. Bilbo and charitable interpretations of events, serving as a defense against gossip and a sign of trustworthy character. On the other hand, an evil influence isn't needed to twist virtues. The notorious Sackville-Bagginses, driven by a sense of entitlement to Bag End, show how hobbits, like humans, are fallen and must choose generosity and kindness over pettiness and mean-spiritedness. - _Ponder this:_ How can we practice "generosity of opinion" in our daily interactions, especially when faced with rumors or disagreements? **Friendship** Friendship is called the greatest treasure in Middle-earth. Frodo is fortunate to have friends like Merry, Pippin, and Sam who refuse to leave him, even if they aren't perfect (poking into affairs, spying, scheming). Despite their flaws, they are "better than perfect; they are true," resolved to guard Frodo's secrets more closely than he does himself. Friendship alone isn't enough to overcome evil; the hobbits are easily tricked or need intervention from powerful figures like Tom Bombadil or the Elves. The main benefit of their friendship is simply enjoying each other's company, laughing, singing, and offering comfort and encouragement. While they lack the power, knowledge, or wisdom to guide Frodo, even the Elves advise him to take friends he can trust. Frodo struggles to accept his friends' devotion, partly from a desire to protect them by leaving them behind, but also from a profound fear of abandonment due to being an orphan and the Ring amplifying his sense of loss. He also feels unworthy of friends who would die for him. Despite these struggles, Frodo's own loyalty is tested, and he chooses not to abandon his friends. Facing death in the Barrow Downs, he's tempted by the Ring to escape alone, rationalizing his friends' inevitable demise, but realizing this would make him faithless. The seed of courage within him awakens, and he calls for help, leading to their rescue. Although rescued, Frodo's sense of doom persists, and he remains reluctant to let his friends share his peril, even as the Ring whispers doubt about their loyalty. For the quest to succeed, Frodo must learn to receive, trust, and lean on friendship when his own strength fails. Upon reaching Bree, Frodo accepts the rascally-looking Strider as a friend, guided by the Ring's influence allowing him to perceive truth beyond appearance – "all that is gold does not glitter." Strider is Aragorn, the chief of Rangers who protects the Shire's surrounding lands. He offers his service not for money, gratitude, or recognition, but simply craves friendship after long, lonely, misunderstood years on the fringes of civilization. The friendship of Gandalf is also remarkable; mighty as he is, he considers no one beneath his notice. His friendship, not a display of power, is what finally convinces Bilbo to give up the Ring. Loyalty in friendship is difficult in practice, especially when it conflicts with personal aspirations. It requires a "servant's heart," like Sam's, to set aside one's own plans and follow a friend into danger. This, the book suggests, is the mark of true friends. - _Ponder this:_ How do Frodo's struggles with accepting friendship resonate with our own difficulties in receiving help or believing we are worthy of others' devotion? What does it mean to be a "true" friend, even if imperfect? **Hospitality** The Bible encourages showing hospitality to strangers, suggesting one might unknowingly entertain angels. Characters in Middle-earth embody this virtue. Fatty Bolger, though unwilling to join Frodo's dangerous journey, helps by preparing a house and hosting the companions, then bravely maintaining the pretense Frodo is still there, knowing Black Riders will come. This "simple gift" is essential to the mission's initial success and requires someone trustworthy. Farmer Maggot provides a great example of stoutheartedness and taking responsibility for one's land and travelers, offering help without asking for secrets. His aid is a "wonderful example," and learning he's a friend of Tom Bombadil only heightens esteem for him. Tom Bombadil himself is a considerably more formidable host, ancient and powerful, unaffected by the Ring. He rescues, feeds, rests, and entertains the hobbits, but ultimately offers the same fundamental gift as Farmer Maggot: hospitality and safe passage through his land. Barliman Butterbur, the innkeeper at the Prancing Pony, offers hospitality as a business, perhaps with less amateur generosity, being busy and forgetful (like forgetting to send Gandalf's letter). Nevertheless, he does what he can for the companions. When told Black Riders come from Mordor, he quails but affirms his willingness to help more than ever, even though he feels insignificant against the Shadow, offering to let Frodo stay under a false name. This simple act ensures the hobbits survive another night. Hospitality, at minimum, provides weary travelers with essential rest, reminding us that no journey of importance can be attempted without such occasions of peace. - _Ponder this:_ In what ways can we offer hospitality or receive help, even when feeling unqualified or insignificant like Barliman Butterbur? How can a simple act of welcome be essential to someone else's difficult journey? **Faith** When faced with danger, the hobbits' best strategy is often to call for help. When trapped by Old Man Willow, Frodo cries "Help! Help! Help!" and is answered by Tom Bombadil. He calls upon Tom again in the Barrow Downs and is rescued. Whenever he calls for unseen help, it is given. At Weathertop, before he has the will to resist the Ring's call, he cries out, "O Elbereth, Gilthoniel!" Elbereth, the Elvish name for Varda (a Valar created by Eru, the One), is one of the angelic beings who helped create Middle-earth and are concerned with helping Frodo. Her name is more deadly to the Ringwraiths than Frodo's knife. Frodo is part of a story predating Middle-earth, with powers beyond common knowledge, yet he finds himself calling their names, and they answer, which is "an awesome thing." The Elves are the closest kin to the Valar, and some can draw on otherworldly power, like Glorfindel driving Black Riders into the river. Other helpers are human, and not always impressive in appearance. The hobbits must trust Strider through the Midgewater Marsh, and while he can't save Frodo from the Ringwraith's blade, his knowledge of healing keeps him alive until they reach Rivendell, where Elrond, a master healer, can save him. Frodo is wounded early and grievously, yet this doesn't deter him; defeated before he even fully begins, he is willing to lay down his life for the quest, which is all the powers above ask. Sometimes the greatest challenge is accepting help, especially when the helper looks unappealing or unseen, when the end is unknown and the task impossible; we can be encouraged by examples like Elisha trusting the unseen and Frodo whose ability to trust is sufficient. - _Ponder this:_ What does it mean to call for "unseen help" in our own lives, and how might we recognize when help is offered, even if it comes from an unexpected or unappealing source? **Perspective** History is portrayed as a "two-edged sword," sometimes broken like Narsil, the sword that broke under Isildur. The races of the West become sundered and insular, but are reforged in Rivendell, uniting what was scattered. History, as presented at the Council of Elrond, reveals separate problems are part of the same conflict, but it also divides, recalling old grievances between Elves and Dwarves. Gandalf warns against airing all grievances, stressing the importance of distinguishing between mistakes born of malice and those from common imperfection. In the recounting of history, familiar figures are shown to be strange and awesome: Gandalf is more than a kindly wizard, but a "great mover of deeds"; Elrond has witnessed ages and was present at key historical moments; Aragorn is the heir of kings. Even Gollum, a vile creature, is seen in a new light upon learning he was once akin to hobbits and ruined by the Ring over centuries. Aragorn's insistence on continuing the hunt for Gollum, even when it seemed too late, was crucial because their understanding of the Ring's effect on those of small power, like hobbits, would have been diminished without his story, particularly the insight that hobbits don't fade as quickly and have "enormous innate power to resist" the Ring. Knowledge of the past and the perspective it gives are essential for present decisions. History reveals the Ring is wholly evil and cannot be used for good, leading the Council to decide on its destruction by taking it to Mount Doom. While history can be boring, it gives foresight, helping us see ourselves in a grander scheme and make decisions that benefit all peoples and future times, not just ourselves and the present. This foresight prevents actions like simply hiding the Ring in the Sea, knowing it would only delay Sauron's return. Even in danger, like in the Mines of Moria, Gandalf takes time to learn history, though the immediate benefit is questioned. - _Ponder this:_ How can understanding history help us make better decisions in our own lives and see our present challenges as part of a larger narrative? **Community** Community differs from friendship; it is stronger in its diversity but weaker initially in its bonds, often formed by accident or arbitrary selection. The diverse community at Rivendell allows for sending scouts while others rest and prepare. The Fellowship of the Ring, the Nine Walkers, is chosen to include representatives from different peoples (Elves, Dwarves, Men, Hobbits), matching the nine Ringwraiths. Elrond and Gandalf disagree on whether Merry and Pippin should go; Elrond wants them to defend the Shire, believing Elf-lords would be a better choice, but Gandalf defends the young hobbits' desire to stay with Frodo. Gandalf cannot foresee the end but trusts the loyalty of friends over the might of well-meaning strangers, recalling that "help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter." For the quest to succeed, trusting loyalty is better than trusting power in the darkness. The best communities, it is suggested, are made of friends, and Gandalf is a master at building this type of community, valuing friendship with many different beings. True community is based on choice; Elrond doesn't lay charges on Fellowship members other than Frodo, understanding that force (like oaths) can break spirits. The diverse Fellowship combines strengths, allowing them to face challenges none could alone. Artificial communities can foster unlikely friendships, like that between Legolas and Gimli, who overcome ancient grievances through mutual respect and care within the Fellowship. Gandalf encourages their friendship, reminding them that he needs them both. Havens like the Shire, Rivendell, and Lothlórien are beacons of community, preserving history, aiding strangers, fostering friendships, and blessing the world simply by enduring. - _Ponder this:_ How can we build communities that value diversity and choice, and how might unexpected friendships emerge from working together towards a common goal? **Sacrifice** Sacrifice can be extraordinary (martyrdom) or ordinary, powerful yet often invisible. The ordinary form is like Jesus asking followers to leave everything: the hobbits leave behind their familiar lives; Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli leave homelands under threat; Aragorn postpones his love for Arwen. Gandalf's entire life is a gift against Sauron; he has no permanent home, few possessions, and his closest friends are in the Fellowship, living a life of suffering hard journeys and inspiring others, much like Paul the apostle. When the Balrog appears, wisdom might suggest Gandalf save himself and Frodo, as the most important, considering the others expendable. But Gandalf is their friend, not just a leader, and like Jesus, he has the love to lay down his life for his friends, standing against the Balrog and breaking the bridge. He doesn't fight for glory like Boromir but stands like a weary old man knowing he's met his match. His final words, "Fly, you fools!", show concern for his friends, not despair or calls for help. - _Ponder this:_ What does it mean to make "ordinary sacrifices" in our own lives, and how does Gandalf's final act redefine what it means to be a leader and a friend? **Wonder** Amidst grief, like the loss of Gandalf or the death of all his kin in Moria, Gimli insists on gazing at the waters of Kheled-zâram, the Mirrormere, showing his appreciation for beauty is undiminished. This sense of wonder is appropriate and a mark of his people who seek precious things in the earth. The chief wonder of the Mirrormere is that it reflects only mountains and stars, not fleeting forms; some things endure beyond the triumphs and tragedies of temporary times. Like seeing "in a mirror, dimly," this points to an eternal reality. When foundations are shaken by loss, the eternal may offer cold comfort, but it reminds us that beauty and significance survive personal failure. Lothlórien embodies this bittersweet hope: its glory will fade, but its inhabitants turn to a higher glory, sacrificing their home for Middle-earth's redemption. Blindfolded upon entering Lothlórien, the companions' other senses sharpen, leading to overwhelming delight in beauty upon seeing it – Frodo feeling "inside a song," and a deep, non-utilitarian "delight of the living tree itself" upon touch. Wonder is also found in Gandalf's sacrifice, appreciating that someone so powerful cared more for his friends than anything else, enhancing the appreciation of Lothlórien's beauty as a place to honor his memory. Despite desperate struggles, _The Lord of the Rings_ is suffused with wonder, keeping alive the sense that the world is good, beautiful, and worth saving, offering healing and rest from grief in the wonders of Middle-earth. - _Ponder this:_ How can we cultivate a sense of wonder in our own lives, even in the midst of struggle or loss, and how might beauty offer healing? **Temptation** Galadriel tells the Fellowship their quest is "upon the edge of a knife" and that hope remains only "while all the Company is true," then tests them by looking into their hearts. Temptation itself isn't entirely bad; it tests character. Legolas and Aragorn hold her gaze, confident in their motives. Sam blushes fastest, feeling exposed, but is the only one willing to reveal his temptation. Boromir, showing pride and misunderstanding, questions Galadriel's motives and refuses to reveal his own temptation while badgering Frodo. Knowing and sharing temptations can draw a community closer, increasing trust and strength, or revealing where friends might falter. Finding strength in resisting temptation brings joy and freedom. Later, Galadriel's mirror offers visions that frighten and tempt, like Sam seeing the Shire's destruction. This vision tears him, making him want to stay with Frodo and return home simultaneously, but his open heart and sense of duty keep him on the path, showing he's not in danger from this temptation because he knows he has "something to do before the end." Galadriel's gift of temptation, successfully overcome, strengthens the will, while succumbing leads to evil. - _Ponder this:_ How can sharing our struggles with temptation build stronger connections within our communities, and what does it mean to be strengthened by successfully resisting it? **Failure** Gandalf's death, though grievous, removes a "crutch" and gives the remaining Fellowship a chance to stand, and potentially fall. The important thing about falling is the chance to stand up again. Aragorn, in his haste fleeing Moria, forgets Sam and Frodo are wounded, feeling inadequate to take Gandalf's place and torn between his desire to go to Minas Tirith and his mind telling him it's cruel to send Frodo alone. This indecision is the beginning of the Company's failure. Frodo, caught between the Voice (of the Ring) and the Eye (of Sauron), is tortured but returns to his simple hobbit self, removes the Ring, diverting ultimate failure for a while. Perceiving the Ring's power at work in the Company, he resolves to go to Mordor alone. Boromir returns, not fully understanding the danger he caused by trying to take the Ring. When he reports Frodo fled, the others panic and scatter. Aragorn, unable to stop them, sends Boromir after Merry and Pippin and goes after Sam. Boromir, a soldier, overcomes his inner turmoil and follows instructions, showing he can still do some good despite his failure. Aragorn, less used to giving orders, fails to follow his own, leaving Sam behind again, drawn by pride and the hope Frodo might be at Amon Hen. Sam alone comes to his senses, figures out Frodo's plan, and races back, leaping into the river he feared to join the boat he thinks is empty. Frodo rescues him, fails to convince him to stay, and this final failure of the Fellowship makes Frodo laugh. They set out, fate resting on two hobbits, "apparently untroubled." Despite his shortcomings, Boromir is brave and honest. He doesn't flee but returns to face the Company, his pride purged, obeying Aragorn's orders. He catches up with Merry and Pippin and dies defending them. Dying, he confesses trying to take the Ring and apologizes, telling Aragorn he has failed. Aragorn, understanding Boromir's internal struggle, tells him he achieved a "rare kind of victory," and Boromir dies smiling. Confession is essential for atoning for sins, and though we may desire more, God sometimes grants the chance to prove ourselves worthy again. Boromir's sacrifice gives Merry and Pippin the "gift of significance," heightened by a mighty warrior's death, tasking them with living up to it. Aragorn also failed, his pride less great than Boromir's, but like Boromir, failing to protect the simple hobbits despite believing in their own strength and watchfulness. Boromir atones with his death, Aragorn must atone with his life. The breaking of the Fellowship, however, frees Aragorn's heart to chase the Orcs holding Merry and Pippin, joined by Legolas and Gimli. Their tireless chase purifies them, shedding guilt and shame, bringing them to Edoras in time for war. Atonement is hard but also "a great joy," the process by which failures are redeemed, like Peter affirming love after denying Jesus, which lifts his shame and charges him to care for others. The chase of the Three Hunters, while not helping the hobbits directly (except for finding Pippin's brooch), strengthens and hardens the Hunters. - _Ponder this:_ How can failure offer a chance to stand up again, and what does Boromir's death teach us about the complex nature of victory and atonement? **Suffering** Merry and Pippin have little to atone for, their presence alone being important, but they need to be strengthened and hardened. Suffering is presented as the way to accomplish this, through which we learn who we really are. Pippin, regaining consciousness among the Orcs, feels useless and a "nuisance" but does what he can: cutting his bonds with a knife from a dead Orc and cleverly looping them back. He learns from Merry's strength (Merry cutting off Orcs' hands, looking grim and defiant). After his first success, Pippin takes a bolder chance, dropping Galadriel's brooch to leave a sign for Strider, paying for it with a whip but taking a step toward understanding his inner power. He learns that being unable to cast away a treasure when needed is a fetter. A stout heart is required to suffer well. Pippin never loses his "simple hobbit sense" or uses suffering as an excuse to sully himself, refusing to eat flesh thrown by an Orc, maintaining a pure heart like Job. Though they began as simple friends, Merry and Pippin, hundreds of miles from home, find strength to survive capture and escape, not entirely alone, but discovering they can be strong when needed. Suffering, endurance, character, and hope are linked, suggesting that suffering produces endurance, which produces character, which produces hope, and this hope does not disappoint. - _Ponder this:_ How does Pippin's experience suggest that even in our weakest moments, seemingly small acts of defiance or resourcefulness can be the beginning of discovering inner strength forged through suffering? **Resurrection** Gandalf's return after battling the Balrog is a central event. He died, battled for ten days, returned to life on Mount Celebdil, and was borne by Gwaihir the Eagle to Lothlórien. He speaks little of where his spirit traveled, only that he was sent back "naked... until my task was done." Gandalf's love for ordinary virtues is boundless, and his strength includes inspiring them in others. His death and resurrection increased his joy, mirth, confidence, and power. He absolves Aragorn, saying his choice was just and rewarded, allowing their meeting in time. Few experience resurrection in the highest sense, but we get a "taste of it" when we awaken from "dull dreaming days" to realize we are in a struggle with more power than we knew. King Théoden, influenced by lies telling him he was weak and helpless, is awakened by Gandalf, who imparts new life. Gandalf silences Wormtongue, shows Théoden the storm he fears but also the ray of light, whispers of hope, and counsels him to grasp a sword and trust the trustworthy. These simple actions transform Théoden into a warrior king; the essence of ordinary resurrection is "To cast aside regret and fear. To do the deed at hand." We rarely awaken ourselves; we need help to shake us and show the situation as it really stands. The trustworthy voice reveals a desperate situation but offers hope, while the liar denies the situation or hope, telling us there's nothing we can do. The trustworthy tell us that what little we have is desperately needed. Merry and Pippin experience their own minor resurrection, awakening from their ordeal with the Orcs, much like they were awakened by Tom Bombadil. They even wake up Treebeard, an Ent who, like Shirefolk, is not hasty but becomes an awesome force when roused. Treebeard, angered by Orcs' destruction, is roused by Merry and Pippin's storytelling, filling gaps in his knowledge of Saruman's evil. Giving voice to his thoughts builds his anger, a "neglected of virtues," which is often the key to unlocking us from our tombs. Treebeard, in turn, rouses other Ents, creating the force needed to defeat Orcs and assault Isengard, a direct result of the hobbits' suffering. Every morning is a resurrection, but many rarely fully awaken. Moments of clarity, like recovering alcoholics experience, offer a chance to rouse ourselves and take needed actions. We should think before acting but also not be hasty. - _Ponder this:_ How can we recognize the "lulling whisperers" in our own lives that tell us we are weak or that there is no hope, and how can we seek out voices that call us to awaken and "do the deed at hand"? **Humility** Humility, in part, is the act of giving and receiving true names. It's not accepting names born of pride or submitting to names from shame, but rendering names that reflect truth. Gríma feeds Théoden lies about his age and weakness, names Théoden internalizes. Gandalf heals by returning Théoden's true name: king. Gandalf exposes Gríma's lies and, in his power and wisdom, renders true names, naming Théoden "king" and Gríma "snake," but counsels mercy for Gríma, suggesting judgment based on his choice. This shows humility is not meekness. Gandalf, a being greater than those around him, surprises everyone by kneeling before Aragorn when presenting the palantír, acknowledging Aragorn as king without lording his power. Saruman's wizardry makes other voices sound unpleasant, but Gimli's natural harshness helps the truth he speaks sound less strange against Saruman's enchantment. Théoden, in his newfound humility, is able to resist Saruman's power, accepting his true name ("A lesser son of greater sires I am") and rejecting Saruman's claims ("I do not need to lick your fingers"). Laughter is a chief tool of humility, as shown when Gandalf laughs at Saruman's attempt to tempt him with pride, breaking the enchantment. Humility is elusive and difficult, a point the author notes in his own questioning about writing the book, finding resonance in C. S. Lewis's _The Screwtape Letters_ about the difficulty of being aware of one's own humility without losing it, suggesting laughter and a sense of proportion are defenses. - _Ponder this:_ How can we distinguish between true humility and false meekness, and how might laughter be a tool to help us stay grounded and resist pride or despair? **Providence** Gandalf says, "I am Gandalf, Gandalf the White, but Black is mightier still," a curious statement that contrasts with the biblical idea that light overcomes darkness. The book suggests God has chosen weakness to represent him, and Providence is one of his chief weapons. Providence is seen in the natural order, like the Sun's role: hope is found at the rising of the sun, a theme echoed by Legolas and Aragorn. At the Battle of Helm's Deep, dawn arrives and reveals the Huorns who overwhelm the Orcs. Like Old Testament battles, the outcome is in God's control, and those who trust in him succeed, whether by conventional means or seemingly foolish ones; the battle belongs to the Lord. Providence isn't strictly a virtue but is presented as one of God's virtues, a facet of his tireless devotion, humility, wisdom, hope, and mirth, refusing to surrender the world to evil. Evil twists good to evil, but good twists evil into greater good. The light is greater, but while evil seeks domination, good seeks redemption. Those who oppose Sauron benefit from the fact that evil, rejecting goodness, becomes blind to it. - _Ponder this:_ How can we recognize the workings of Providence in our own lives, even in seemingly chaotic or dark situations, and what does it mean to trust that "the battle belongs to the Lord"? **Trust** The Fellowship is charged with a secret (the Ring's identity), but they are in service of Truth. At times, secrets are revealed according to wisdom. Galadriel reveals she is the keeper of Nenya to Frodo, which builds his soul and shows him he is not alone in his burden. Being trusted makes one more trustworthy. Alone, Frodo and Sam reach an impasse and need a guide. Since Frodo has left all friends but Sam, he seeks help from an enemy, choosing to take Gollum into his confidence by revealing they are going to Mordor. This frankness hurts Gollum, as truth and good things do. However, this unexpected honesty prompts Gollum to respond truthfully, even if he immediately tries to deny it. Frodo, since leaving the Shire, has begun to understand the Ring's effect, even on those who haven't touched it (like Boromir), feels the weight of temptation and the horror of Sauron's Eye, gaining pity for Gollum. He begins to understand the forces that corrupted him. Frodo's trust has an immediate effect, showing a glimpse of the Sméagol within Gollum. Gollum is loathsome, ruined by the Ring and centuries under the mountain, an embodiment of the worst a hobbit can become, a truly untrustworthy guide charged by Sauron to find the Ring. Yet, Gandalf believed he wasn't wholly ruined, suggesting hearing a kindly voice was pleasant for him. Frodo continues to trust in Providence and doesn't guard Gollum ceaselessly, unlike Sam. He follows Gollum's guidance into dangerous places. Frodo's trust and kindness seem to touch Gollum's heart; just before Shelob's lair, Gollum sees the hobbits sleeping and for a fleeting moment appears as a "pitiable thing," his touch on Frodo almost a caress. But Sam wakes and speaks sharply, the moment passes, and Sméagol's chance is lost, though it wouldn't have happened without Frodo's compassion. Frodo's unfailing kindness to Gollum, despite his vile nature, proves his resistance to the Ring's evil, showing he is clinging to faith, remembering his own weakness, and resisting hate, echoing the idea of Jesus dining with sinners. - _Ponder this:_ Frodo's trust in Gollum is risky but leads to a fleeting moment of potential redemption. How can we approach those we deem "untrustworthy" or even "enemies" with compassion, remembering the complex forces that shape them? **Trustworthiness** Frodo is more guarded with Faramir, a Man, than with Gollum, having become mistrustful of Men since Boromir's failure. His logic is based on Men being the only race who fully succumbed to Sauron's service through the rings of power, seeming strange and less resistant than hobbits. Faramir says many fair things, expressing a desire for peace and healing in Gondor, claiming not to love war itself. Frodo is tempted to trust him but restrains himself, thinking "Better mistrust undeserved than rash words." However, Gandalf had entrusted Faramir with all his names, even Olórin, suggesting Faramir is worthy of trust. Sam, warming to Faramir due to his respect for Elves, lowers his guard. Despite lacking Gandalf's wisdom, Sam is his equal in heart and reveals the Ring's identity to Faramir, testing his trustworthiness. Faramir passes the test, echoing Éomer by stating Gondor men are truth-speakers who perform or die, reassuring the hobbits they have nothing to fear. Frodo, no longer able to dissemble, tells Faramir his charge to destroy the Ring, admitting he doubts he'll get there, and collapses from weariness. Sam compliments Faramir for taking the chance and showing the "very highest" quality. At the pool, Frodo faces a choice about Gollum's fate, similar to the Barrow Downs. He could be rid of Gollum but cannot countenance his death, just as he couldn't abandon his friends. Gollum feels betrayed by this kindness, but Frodo doesn't regret his choice, having done his best with a clean conscience, learning the importance of being trustworthy, not just appearing so, from Strider. Faramir, though proven trustworthy, wishes he could take the burden of trustworthiness from Frodo, recognizing the difficulty of faithfulness, especially for a friend bound to harm. Even Gollum desires trustworthiness; he cannot bring himself to tell Faramir or Frodo that the way to Cirith Ungol is unguarded, showing he is divided and hasn't fully committed to treachery, perhaps hoping the Sméagol side might win. He values Frodo's trust as the first anyone good has shown him in centuries. Sam is presented as the most faithful friend. In the Dead Marshes, he focuses on his master, barely noticing his own despair, tending Frodo like a farmer protects plants from a hailstorm, supporting and encouraging him. Focusing on others' interests can make our own struggles easier to bear. Faithfulness to others is a difficult but rewarding truth, applicable whether the object is a beloved master or a "revolting creature" created good. We see this truth in _The Lord of the Rings_ and are encouraged to try it ourselves. - _Ponder this:_ How do Frodo's contrasting trusts in Gollum and Faramir illuminate the complexities of judging character and the importance of being trustworthy ourselves? **Wisdom** Part of Frodo's ability to see character and motivation comes from possessing the Ring, but this vision is not always trustworthy, sometimes showing friends as greedy monsters. True wisdom is seeing things as they really are, a gift the Ring cannot give. Frodo's wisdom must come from elsewhere. It's noted as interesting that he trusts Gollum quicker than Faramir, suggesting his keen sight is sometimes directed by a will other than his own, offering little hope, like the visions in the palantír. Faramir's discernment is "merely mortal" and untainted by evil. Despite his duty to slay intruders, he trusts his own wisdom to hear the hobbits, discerning much unsaid and steering conversation when needed. His wisdom is evident, but even he cannot guess their destination near Mordor, which is a sign of hope because if he doesn't know, Sauron likely has no suspicion. Good has an advantage over evil: the wise good can understand evil because they accept the evil within themselves, but the evil, rejecting good within them, come to believe good doesn't exist. Assuming they are wise, they believe if a "higher good" existed, they would have seen and embraced it. This makes them transparent to good but blind to it, a twist on Sauron's intentions with the Ring. Wisdom is not intelligence or strategy, but about the heart. Faramir tells Sam his heart is "shrewd as well as faithful, and saw clearer than [his] eyes." - _Ponder this:_ How does the book's concept of wisdom being rooted in the heart, not just the mind, challenge our modern understanding of intelligence? How can accepting the potential for "evil within ourselves" paradoxically help us understand and oppose external evil? **Hope** Near the Black Gate, Frodo loses hope, feeling choice is moot if both paths lead to terror and death. Fortunately, Sam's hope is "undiminished." Seeing an army, Sam's simple mind sees an opportunity to see an Oliphaunt, and his poem makes Frodo laugh, releasing him from hesitation. All living things, it is suggested, participate in the struggle to hope; only before the Morannon has all hope failed. Entering Ithilien, amidst its ruined beauty, the hobbits' spirits lift, and Sam laughs for "heart's ease." They pass trees that are "gaunt and broken" but "failed to kill them or to shake their fathomless roots," a powerful image of endurance. At the Cross-roads, sunlight on a fallen king's statue adorned with flowers gives Frodo renewed hope: "They cannot conquer forever!" However, witnessing the vast army from the Morgul Vale makes his hope utterly depart. He feels "too late," all is lost, his task is in vain, and no one will know or care. Guilt steals up, saying he didn't do enough. Overcome, he falls asleep, but when he wakes, despair remains, but the weakness has passed. He smiles grimly, feeling it doesn't matter if anyone knows; he must do what he has to do. Hope, the book concludes, is not a feeling but a choice; even in despair, we can choose to carry on, which is "no greater hope than that." - _Ponder this:_ How does the book differentiate hope as a choice from hope as a feeling, and how can this distinction empower us in moments of despair? What are the "unshaken roots" that might symbolize enduring hope in our own lives? **Imagination** At the entrance to Shelob's lair, Frodo and Sam imagine their story being told later, which gives them hope and perspective, and makes Frodo laugh for the first time in that evil place in ages. They feel an audience and a sense of not being alone, understanding their actions resonate, redeeming past sacrifices and easing the way for future generations. Later, Sam, believing Frodo dead, still thinks in terms of the story. He was a safe supporting player but is now alone, the quest unfinished, his path to stay with Frodo a dead end. Revenge on Gollum is tempting but empty. Sam, who always felt he had "something to do before the end," despite his nature, takes the Ring and sets off alone, against the grain. His imagination failed to provide hope that Frodo was alive, but a "higher imagination" (Tolkien's, though the characters don't know it) is at work, unwilling to let the quest fail. The characters only know that great stories move forward regardless of odds. Imagination, the book argues, is the whole point of Middle-earth; it's why we return. It shows not just _how_ to live, but _how it is possible_ to live, reminding us of the world's beauty and importance. Even if Elves, Dwarves, and Hobbits are gone from our world, friends, devotion, and renown deeds remain. Idle daydreaming is useless unless it leads to action. If there aren't enough heroes, become one. Reject power, leave comfort, face despair, realize your foolishness and hopelessness, then remember Frodo and Sam imagining their story. Grab your resolve and walk into the danger, trusting you are part of a story and that making a "good end" worthy of a story is what's truly important, even if no one tells it; perhaps angels will. - _Ponder this:_ How can imagining ourselves as characters in a larger story empower us to face challenges and prioritize making a "good end" over guaranteed success or even survival? How does Middle-earth inspire us to move from passive daydreaming to active deeds? **Submission** Meeting kings, Merry and Pippin pledge fealty, motivated by pride and honoring Boromir (Pippin) and sudden love for the old king (Merry). Their different motives reflect the kings: Denethor proud and despairing, Théoden humble and hopeful. The hobbits aren't just serving the men but what they represent: glory, honor, stewardship. Submission is a loaded word, but _The Lord of the Rings_ shows how it should be done. Even kings like Théoden and Denethor are under submission; Gandalf gains an ally in Théoden by urging him to submit to his role but loses Denethor by reminding him of his authority limits. Merry and Pippin don't include blind obedience in their submission; they use discernment and simplicity to make decisions from their hearts. Merry rides to war against the king's command, and Pippin leaves his post to save Faramir. By serving a higher good than human authority, they save crucial lives. Éowyn's lifelong service and desire for battle are constrained by Théoden's order to govern. Aragorn tells her few can spend their lives as they wish with honor, refusing to gainsay another king, causing him pain. For many, submission is a cage, and breaking out is agonizing. Éowyn ultimately leaves her duty, rides disguised, and her motivation is skewed by despair and desire for fame, yet it aligns with a prophecy that the chief Nazgûl would not be killed by a Man. Her decision is complex, prompting reflection on whether she is right or wrong. Faramir's submission to his father, Denethor (who is like Saruman, accusing Gandalf and Faramir of pride/folly), is devout but difficult. Faramir never acts on his father's lies and does things in wisdom and humility, renowned for governing well. He remains governable himself, echoing Frodo in accepting a dangerous task despite facing dread, if commanded. Even Sauron's servants know a twisted form of submission; the Mouth of Sauron has lost his self, becoming only his master's mouthpiece. True servants of the Highest become more fully themselves, while Sauron's servants lose themselves. Sauron himself was evil but less so while serving another. Humans, of all races, have the hardest time submitting to good. Submission is a high virtue, but not the only way to achieve good ends. God takes whatever service we give and makes of it what He will, meaning the glory belongs to Him, leaving no room for boasting. - _Ponder this:_ How do the examples of Merry, Pippin, Éowyn, and Faramir show that true submission isn't necessarily blind obedience to human authority, but discerning and serving a higher good? **Stewardship** Gandalf defines his role as a steward: caring for all worthy things in peril, and his task won't wholly fail if anything fair or fruitful survives the darkness. Legolas and Gimli, after victory, speak of their peoples' future stewardship – Elves tending gardens, Dwarves tending stones. With Wizards, Elves, and Dwarves gone, the stewardship of these things falls to humans. Ghân-buri-Ghân and the Wild Men, who live simply and are attuned to nature, embody stewardship of their land, hating Orcs for the havoc they wreak on life and beauty. Their perspective is that the only good in war is ending such destruction. Moses' instruction not to wantonly cut down trees, calling it "Orc work," contrasts with modern views of nature as mere "resources" for human use; the book argues things from the earth are valuable in themselves, apart from human ends. Human authority, being given, is limited, as Gandalf reminds Denethor, who has forgotten what his title "Steward" means. Denethor looks on despair, fails to laugh, loses hope, and in a twisted act of caring, tries to kill his son to spare him defeat. The only good from this is Faramir presenting Aragorn with the crown, averting potential conflict had Denethor lived and contested the claim. Healing is presented as the greatest gift a king can bring. Just as Jesus sometimes forgave sins when healing, the influence of evil is seen as a great hurt (like the Black Breath). Aragorn, coming in victory, brings life and heals using athelas, a plant with minor virtues that, in the King's hands, touches the soul. As stewards of the natural world, it can minister to us not only medically but through beauty, freshness, and joy, healing our souls. - _Ponder this:_ How does the concept of "stewardship" in Middle-earth challenge our view of the natural world as mere resources? What acts of stewardship, both for nature and for people, might we practice? **Courage** Battle is often associated with courage, but sometimes simply showing up takes more courage than facing death in combat. Éowyn, disguised as Dernhelm, weeping but faithful, Merry "crawling on all fours like a dazed beast," the turning of hope to despair by the Nazgûl – this scene at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields highlights courage. Merry, recognizing Dernhelm is Éowyn, feels pity and wonder, and his "slow-kindled courage" awakens; he resolves she shouldn't die alone, despite his injuries, contributing to the vanquishing of the Witch-king in a deed surpassed only by the Ring-bearers. This is far from the hobbit easily knocked unconscious by a Black Rider's breath in Bree. Aragorn notes Merry knows not where he rides but would go on even if he knew, suggesting courage is facing the unknown while flinching or terrified. Courage is also needed for things other than perilous tasks. Facing the winged shadow casting dread on Gondor, Pippin and Beregond contemplate doom but Pippin looks up, sees the sun and wind, and says his heart won't despair, remembering Gandalf's return and the possibility of standing, even if on knees. Later, it takes courage even to witness terrible things without losing hope. Courage seems made of pity, wonder, love, faithfulness, and sometimes wrath – ordinary virtues pushed to extremes. Pity, mixed with wisdom and mercy, drives characters like Bilbo, Gandalf, and Frodo not to kill Gollum. Love holds Gimli to the Paths of the Dead; faithfulness keeps Sam with Frodo; wonder keeps readers glued. Wrath, in the good sense, is seen in the roused Ents, Gandalf rescuing Faramir, or Glorfindel facing Nazgûl. The author questions whether he can bring this good wrath to bear in his own life, holding onto hope. - _Ponder this:_ How is courage shown to be more than just bravery in the face of physical danger? How can cultivating ordinary virtues like pity, wonder, love, and faithfulness contribute to the extraordinary quality of courage? **Mirth** Joy is called "the gigantic secret of the Christian." Under Gandalf's careworn face, Pippin perceives "a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing." Since his resurrection, Gandalf is "kinder and more alarming, merrier and more solemn." Gandalf keeps most of his power veiled, perhaps because something sacred about mirth cannot be fully experienced in a fallen world, as Chesterton suggests. Even in war, there is "joy of battle." After weeping for his fallen kin, Éomer's rage leads a seemingly hopeless charge, but he laughs at despair upon seeing the black-sailed ships (believing them foes), preparing for renown deeds. When Aragorn's banner is unfurled, revealing allies, the Rohirrim's mirth becomes a "torrent of laughter," and Éomer and Aragorn meet with gladness. Laughter eases the heart and has healing power. Aragorn notes Merry's grievous hurt can be amended due to his "strong and gay a spirit," even after Merry, lost and injured, asks Pippin if he's going to bury him. The author finds this moment deeply moving. Pippin meets his own perceived death, crushed by a troll, with laughter, his thought "almost gay it seemed to be casting off at last all doubt and care and fear," suggesting this secret joy awaits in heaven. _The Lord of the Rings_ is neither comic nor wholly tragic but full of mirth and saturated with loss. Gandalf's question, "Shall we weep or be glad?" echoes the psalms: "Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning." In this "world of night," morning hasn't fully arrived; evil and loss are real, God shares grief, but his mirth is eternal. At the brink where "hope and despair are kin," daring gambits are made. Éomer, not subtle but steadfast, trusts Aragorn and aids him, dismissing Denethor's view of this as foolishness. The book asks if any such foolishness cannot be redeemed by God, who chose unlikely disciples, rode a donkey, was betrayed, and died on a cross to destroy death. This is described as utterly mad, yet it works. Loving enemies is part of this; Gandalf pities even Sauron's slaves. Jesus, having destroyed death with foolishness, still uses that method, not bringing utter peace directly but waiting for us to wipe away each other's tears. - _Ponder this:_ How can we find moments of mirth and joy, even in the midst of grief and struggle, and how does the book connect laughter to both humility and ultimate hope? **Perseverance** Frodo, having lost hope, sometimes relies entirely on Sam's. After immense hardships and miles, near their goal, even Sam's cheerfulness dies. But hope's death turns into a new strength; Sam's face grows stern, his will hardens, becoming a "creature of stone and steel" unsubduable by weariness, despair, or miles. Near the goal, out of water, Sam gives Frodo some and goes without, unable to sleep for thirst. He has a final debate with despair. Sam is Gollum's opposite but similar in devotion and indomitable spirit, differing in their answers to inner voices. Sam's voice calls him a fool for hoping and toiling, saying he could have given up days ago. His answer is resolute: "I'll get there... And I'll carry Mr. Frodo up myself... so stop arguing!" When the ground shakes and light flickers from Mount Doom, it seems Sam is vying in perseverance with the mountain itself, as if the evil mountain doubts its ability to stand against a Hobbit. The key to such feats is simply "to keep on believing," having faith like a mustard seed, able to move mountains. At the foot of Mount Doom, when Frodo begins to crawl, Sam's willpower seems transparent, focused on others' needs. He simply does what must be done, carrying Frodo up the mountain. Discipline is not innate but requires exercise, focus, and attention. In desperate ventures, when hope fails, the choice is between stubborn perseverance and despair. Failure only comes when striving stops. Looking on despair and continuing to struggle is "an awesome thing," from which great good may come. However, perseverance has dangers, seen clearly in Gollum, whose single-minded 80-year quest for the Ring is finally achieved. The problem is that wanting anything hard enough and never stopping can lead to getting it, even if we won't like it. The greatest weapon against giving up is cheerfulness. Sam, more cheerful than Frodo, always looks forward. Even at the end, amidst ruin, he begs Frodo to move away from the edge and talks about their story, keeping fear away, but his eyes still look north towards the clear sky, seeing light and beauty beyond the Shadow's reach. The Eagles find them collapsed, their hope rewarded. The author reflects on his own perseverance (driving long distances, working on a novel, writing the book), feeling a small kinship with Sam and Frodo but humbled by their endurance not just against obstacles but in resisting evil. Frodo endures the Ring's temptation; Sam perseveres in mercy, refusing to kill Gollum. The author admits his own lack of willpower against addiction, hoping God will persevere in perfecting him. - _Ponder this:_ How does Sam's perseverance challenge the idea that hope is a prerequisite for action? In what areas of our own lives might we need to cultivate "stubborn perseverance" or resist the temptation of single-minded desire? **Celebration** The celebration on the Field of Cormallen is deeply moving for the author, particularly seeing Sam, the faithful servant, flustered by Aragorn kneeling before him as king, and his joy hearing their tale sung. The host laughs and weeps, the minstrel's song moving hearts to overflow, feeling "joy like swords," passing into regions where "pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness." Celebration involves feasting, singing, and dancing, but its heart is remembrance – telling old and new stories, praising and worshiping the Author of those stories. Remembering Théoden honors his memory, even in simple acts like smoking a pipe he promised to discuss. Sam, in Mordor, finds hope renewed by seeing a single star through the reek, realizing the Shadow is temporary and there's eternal light and beauty beyond. At its best, celebration is a "vision of eternity glimpsed through the cloud-wrack of our sorrows." When the hobbits turn towards home, Aragorn asks them to wait for a day he has longed for, wanting his friends beside him. Friends are necessary for dangerous quests, but "all the more necessary for the celebration." A lonely celebration is a cold one. Gandalf teases about the nature of this coming day, saying those who prepare the feast like to keep it secret because wonder makes praise louder, like the blindfolds in Lothlórien and Ithilien enhancing the beauty upon reveal. - _Ponder this:_ How does the book suggest that true celebration is intertwined with remembrance and worship? How can shared moments of joy, especially after hardship, become a "vision of eternity"? **Justice** Justice is rendering to others what is due: love, worship, and obedience to God; life owed by Gollum to Sam and Frodo; honor and gratitude owed to the hobbits; allegiance owed by the Steward to the King. Justice includes punishment, vengeance, and condemnation, but only the innocent can render these. In a world of sin and failure, mercy is our only option. Aragorn shows mercy on the march to Mordor, allowing faint-hearted soldiers a different task rather than forcing them. The lords of the free desire freedom, while lords of the enslaved desire slavery. Aragorn continues mercy as king, forgiving enemies, making peace, and giving land to Sauron's former slaves, demanding no retribution. He commutes Beregond's death penalty for leaving his post and shedding blood (to save Faramir) to exile, a "just jest" as he appoints him Captain of Faramir's Guard. Aragorn is aware of his own failures and doesn't forget the grace that put him on the throne, extending it to those he rules. When Gollum attacks on Mount Doom, Sam has every right to revenge; he wanted to kill him for a long time but refrained at Frodo's request. The journey has changed Sam, making him like "stone and steel," easily a match for Gollum. But when Gollum collapses and begs mercy, Sam hesitates. Killing him would be just and safest, but something deep restrains him; he feels pity for the "ruinous, utterly wretched" creature. Sam's brief time wearing the Ring gave him a glimpse into Gollum's soul, stirring pity he hadn't felt before. Jesus' words on not judging or condemning, but forgiving and giving, with the promise that the measure given will be the measure received (Luke 6:37-38), are echoed. Sam is richly rewarded for mercy, not only later but instantly: seeing Frodo "himself again," free of the burden, brings Sam "great joy." Gollum, by falling into the abyss with the Ring, played his part, as Gandalf suspected. Frodo realizes he couldn't have destroyed the Ring without Gollum and says, "So let us forgive him!" True justice leads to healing. The hobbits don't get a perfectly happy homecoming, but Frodo remembers his lessons and doesn't seek revenge in the Shire. He forbids Saruman's death, stating revenge heals nothing. Saruman, his revenge denied, feels bitterness and debt to Frodo's mercy, hating it. Sometimes, mercy shown to the wicked is punishment enough. Frodo offers clemency to Wormtongue, but Saruman's description of Wormtongue's misdeeds drives him to kill Saruman, and Wormtongue is immediately slain, serving justice and maintaining hobbit innocence. The wicked often bring about their own destruction. Saruman's spirit looks West, but is rebuffed and dissolves, having refused repentance despite chances. Some injustices in Middle-earth cannot be remedied: fingers don't grow back, friends are lost. The Ring corrupted Frodo, breaking a part of him that cannot be restored. At the final test, he chose the Ring, but the task was too big for him, absolving him of condemnation. Frodo leaves Middle-earth for healing in the West, a grace given by Arwen, who gave up immortality for Aragorn. Frodo explains to Sam that sometimes someone must give things up so others can keep them. His maimed finger, like Christ's wounds, may remain as testimony. Sam loses his friend, a bitter fate eventually remedied, but often feeling "torn in two" between Frodo and other goods he loves. Frodo comforts Sam that he will be healed, meant to be "solid and whole." - _Ponder this:_ How does the book challenge our conventional ideas of justice by emphasizing mercy and forgiveness, and what might it mean for "true justice" to lead to healing? **Love** Love is the goal of every other virtue. It's knowing another, rejoicing in their existence, seeking intimacy without possession, an immersion bordering on self-forgetting. In its highest form, love for another supersedes self-love, enabling sacrifice. _The Lord of the Rings_ reverberates with love. The Author's love for his creation is evident in Tolkien's meticulous care for characters, even minor ones, giving depth to their roles. Arwen is perhaps the greatest minor character, her tragic love for Aragorn mirroring Luthien's, renouncing immortality. Aragorn offers her no false comfort in death, speaking of moving beyond worldly circles. Beren and Luthien's names are on Tolkien's tombstone, linking his own love to the tale. Tolkien's care extends even to mean-spirited characters like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, who finds redemption by standing against the ruffians and later leaving her money to help homeless hobbits, ending her feud. The book notes many characters who act as Christ-figures, each exemplifying an aspect of the Savior: Tom Bombadil (setting captives free), Gandalf (dying and rising), Aragorn (descending to the dead, emerging as King with healing power), Frodo (taking on sin, casting it away), and Sam (the servant carrying his master). It's hard to pinpoint a single main character, as Tolkien, like God, treats many as central. Romantic love is often veiled. A glimpse is seen in Éowyn and Faramir's courtship. Faramir speaking truth and understanding to Éowyn, after years under Gríma's lies, transforms her, her "winter passed, and the sun shone on her." Love is the ultimate source of healing, and we are healed to love more. The fierce, fond, foolish, free love between friends is the link between Middle-earth and heaven. The bonds of the Fellowship friends survive death, with Legolas and Gimli eventually joining Frodo, Gandalf, Bilbo, Elrond, and Galadriel in the West, and Merry and Pippin buried with Aragorn. The main lesson from _The Lord of the Rings_ is that those in a position to save the world (which includes everyone) do so primarily to save their friends. - _Ponder this:_ How do the various forms of love depicted in Middle-earth, from the Author's love for his creation to the love between friends, illuminate the virtue of love as the goal of all other virtues? **Conclusion** Reading about fictional virtues doesn't automatically instill them, but good books provide a "template," a way to understand the world and the choices we face when called to action. Sam fighting Shelob didn't stop to question if he was brave or loyal; he acted out of instinct born of prior practice, his reaction rage, not helpless terror, because he _had_ been practicing bravery and loyalty. Rage alone isn't enough; an "unseen power" takes over when we are overwhelmed. Sam, having no name for this power, calls on Galadriel and Elbereth in an unknown language, a hymn of praise and prayer for watching over, echoing the Elves. The lesson is to strive for virtues so they feel comfortable within us, and when our strength fails, the Author of Virtues will lend His own. The author shares Tolkien's feeling that the book is "too short," feeling loss at the end but comforted by the companionship of Merry and Pippin returning to their diminished reality. He wonders if Tolkien, writing about Merry's ancient blade that played a part long after its making, was expressing a wish for his own work – that things we make today may endure and play a part in the ongoing struggle against evil. Just as Círdan gave Gandalf a ring to rekindle hearts in a chilling world, Tolkien's work is presented as a gift to rekindle valour in us. - _Ponder this:_ How can stories about virtue serve as a "template" for our own lives, and what "unseen power" might we call upon when our own strength is gone? What "things we make today" might endure and play a part in a larger struggle for good? This look into "Tolkien's Ordinary Virtues" through these excerpts offers a rich tapestry of ideas, suggesting that the profound lessons of _The Lord of the Rings_ lie not just in its epic scope but in the simple, human (and hobbit) virtues demonstrated by its characters. It's a reminder that courage, faith, friendship, and even simple acts of kindness and hope, grounded in a sense of something larger than ourselves, are powerful forces in the face of darkness.