Author and philosopher C.S. Lewis is often considered to be the first to write a Christian fantasy story. The Chronicles of Narnia are well known, not only because of the multiple film adaptations and simple writing style being appealing to children but because of the obvious and intentional allegories. However, it could be argued that it is not the only Christian fantasy worth reading, and even fantasy can point us to greater realities already shown in Scripture. Despite the myriad of such tales now flooding the market (whose theological foundations span a number of denominations), there is another source of classic fantasy that could be argued to fall beneath the label of “Christian fantasy”, even though it was never meant to be so.
J.R.R. Tolkien, who was a contemporary of C.S. Lewis and a fellow member of the literary club “The Inklings”, is internationally acclaimed for his masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings, which is the sequel to the children’s fantasy novel, The Hobbit. The tales, set within the fictional land of Middle-earth, have become beloved by generations since their original publication, and made more accessible by film adaptations produced over the last fifty years. The story, filled with the timeless themes of good versus evil, courage in the face of despair, and loyalty and hope in spite of crushing defeat, is one that remains a fan favorite to this day, nearly a hundred years after the original publication of The Hobbit. As J.R.R. Tolkien was a devout Catholic, his faith comes through his writing in numerous ways, with certain characters showing forth traits of famous Biblical heroes (such as the self-sacrificing Finrod Felagund in The Silmarillion or Faramir from The Lord of the Rings) and many of the themes are resplendent echoes of those found in the Bible, particularly the concept of sovereignty underlying The Silmarillion and other works. The irony is that, in contrast with C.S. Lewis’ obvious attempts to write an allegory, Tolkien had a strong opposing opinion regarding the matter.
In a letter to editor Milton Waldman in 1951, who had expressed interest in publishing Tolkien’s other Middle-earth related works after The Hobbit’s success, Tolkien stresses his views regarding allegory, particularly in relation to his forth-coming work, The Lord of the Rings along with The Silmarillion, which he desired to be published together. He writes, “I dislike Allegory—the conscious and intentional allegory—yet any attempt to explain the purport of myth or fairytale must use allegorical language. (And, of course, the more ‘life’ a story has, the more readily will it be susceptible of allegorical interpretations: while the better a deliberate allegory is made, the more nearly will it be acceptable just as a story.)” And in the Foreword to the Second Edition of The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien states in response to letters from readers: “As for any inner meaning or ‘message’, it has in the intention of the author none. It is neither allegorical nor topical.” After explaining in detail how the world wars did not inspire the major conflicts in The Lord of the Rings and how the story itself would be quite different if it had, he adds the following: “...I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence. I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. I think that many confuse ‘applicability’ with ‘allegory’; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.” Tolkien, of course, admits that “an author cannot of course remain wholly unaffected by his experience, but the ways in which a story-germ uses the soil of experience are extremely complex, and attempts to define the process are at best guesses from evidence that is inadequate and ambiguous.” It is clear, therefore, that unlike his contemporary and fellow writer Lewis, Tolkien never intended to pen a “Christian fantasy”. Nevertheless, whether intentional or not, Tolkien’s religious beliefs bleed through his writing, most notably in his greatest works set in his fantasy world: Middle-earth.
The Lord of the Rings was always meant to be a sequel to his fantastical tale for children, The Hobbit, and not much more. However, Tolkien’s lifework, The Silmarillion, which comprises the beginning of Middle-earth and its history leading up to the events in The Lord of the Rings, has a major exception. Tolkien’s intention with The Silmarillion and his other work with Middle-earth’s early age was to create a legendarium for England. In his letter to Milton Waldman, he explained, “...I was from my early days grieved by the poverty of my own beloved country: it had no stories of its own (bound up with its tongue and soil), not of the quality that I sought, and found (as an ingredient) in legends of other lands.” He proceeds to highlight that he did not desire to create a mythology inherently interwoven with other mythological or religious deities, including Christianity. His legendarium was to be separate, its own unique, high and glorious thing, fair and elusive like the tales he loved best—but free from allegory. And while allegory is at times far less apparent in this particular volume of his writing in contrast with The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion nonetheless exhibits a fascinating—if fictional—glimpse of what could be argued to be the best example of the concept of sovereignty outside of the Bible itself.
The Silmarillion begins as all great myths do: with the creation of the world. Similar to C.S. Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew, where two children from Earth stumble upon Narnia in its beginning and witness the lion Aslan singing the world into existence, so does Tolkien’s Eä begin with the music of the Ainur. The Ainur, which are similar to angels, are commanded by Ilúvatar, who is the god-figure in this legendarium, to create music inspired by the theme Ilúvatar first sets forth. Rich in poetic detail, Tolkien describes the world being woven into being like the many threads of an orchestral tapestry. But amid the splendor and majesty of this music arises one of the Ainur named Melkor, who from the beginning of the story is at variance with the rest, and creates cacophony and discord. Some of the Ainur join him, and the chaos intensifies. Though Ilúvatar causes the music to cease and begin anew, Melkor once again corrupts it so that it cannot continue. This happens a third time, following the perfect pattern of threes in literature, and at last, silence falls. But, contrary to what might be expected, Illúvatar does not react in anger, nor is Melkor cast out, as it may have transpired in other tales. Instead, Illúvatar speaks, and while this work is fictitious, the themes of sovereignty are unmistakable: “...And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not in its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.” Illúvatar then reveals that the great music begun by himself and continued by the Ainur was indeed the creation of the world and the history that would follow, all things being set in place before they should begin within the confines of time. He adds, “...And thou, Melkor, wilt discover all the secret thoughts of thy mind, and wilt perceive that they are but a part of the whole and tributary to its glory.” Though desiring his own glory and mastery over the world, Melkor discovers for the first time that even his rebellion has not been a surprise and that it is indeed part of Illúvatar’s plans for history. Nonetheless, this does not stop Melkor, and the entire Silmarillion is a testament, so to speak, of the havoc he wreaks throughout the world as he attempts to govern the universe himself. Some of the most beautiful stories Tolkien ever wrote of courage and nobleness and self-sacrifice amid cowardice and cruelty and selfishness are within these pages, and this example of the very opening of The Silmarillion is but one of many regarding sovereignty in Tolkien’s Middle-earth related works.
Another powerful—and perhaps far more well known—example is from The Lord of the Rings, the context being a wise Maiar named Gandalf speaking with a humble hobbit named Frodo. They have just discovered that an heirloom left in Frodo’s possession by his retired uncle is in fact a most dangerous artifact containing the spirit, as it were, of their greatest enemy, Sauron. (Who was, in fact, the first lieutenant of Melkor during the First Age of Middle-earth and succeeded him after Melkor was utterly defeated and locked away at the edge of the world.) Gandalf speaks of the artifact, which is in truth a ring of power, and its history from the day of its forging to its possession in Frodo’s hands. Once again, Tolkien alludes to the concept of sovereignty in his writing, no doubt a subtle reference to the music of Illúvatar. Gandalf says, regarding the Ring landing “accidentally” in Frodo’s possession, “There was more than one power at work, Frodo. The Ring was trying to get back to its master. [...] Behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you were also meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought.” This is by no means the final instance of sovereignty in this story (or other tales) Tolkien wrote, but I digress.
Tolkien stated on numerous occasions his dislike of allegory in any form, and certainly was not intending to create a Christian fantasy in any form, unlike Lewis. In The Silmarillion, the concept of sovereignty is clearly shown from the beginning and is a theme carried through to the end. The idea of a supreme power being in control of all things, to the extent that even apparent evil was not out of this authority’s control but rather an intended and necessary part of his plan, is not one often done in mythology. A quick glance at any ethnicity’s folklore will showcase the utter chaos that exists between the deities, from Greek to Polynesian mythology and everything in between. But Tolkien attempted to create his own legendarium for a reason, free from the chaos and redundancy of other myths, and even if unintentional, he wove in his faith in profound ways.
In Job 41, as God speaks to Job out of the whirlwind, He speaks of His power and glory to an awesome—in the true sense of the word—extent. Through immense suffering, Job has proved himself faithful and refused to curse God, even though he endured unspeakable loss and torment of his body. Unbeknownst to Job, God allowed Satan to test Job, but there was never a single moment in which God was not in sovereign control of the circumstances, and even Satan’s testing was no surprise to God—in fact, it could be argued the opposite. The extent of God’s mastery of creation in every aspect is shown in God’s response to Job’s questioning, and Job has no answer but to humble himself and repent of his doubt.
The theme of God’s sovereignty, while prevalent across the entire Scriptures, is especially evident in the book of Isaiah. One of the most well-known passages is (King James Version) Isaiah 45:28, “That saith of Cyrus, he is My shepherd, and shall perform all My pleasure: even saying to Jerusalem, Thou shalt be built; and to the temple, Thy foundation shall be laid.” Though Cyrus is the enemy, and ruler of a conquered nation, God states that He can use even what seems to be impossibly hopeless circumstances to bring about His sovereign purposes.
Though The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings are purely fictional, even in imaginative tales can we find examples of truths shown in Scripture. J.R.R. Tolkien may have been Catholic, unlike Anglican C.S. Lewis, but his faith shines through the pages and points to a magnificent pillar of theology. Just as Tolkien wrote about Melkor—the worst villain in terms of strength and woes that he ever penned—being subject to Illúvatar’s purposes, so in a greater sense is our adversary the Devil under the dominion of God’s power and control. Just as Gandalf speaks to Frodo about even the bad things being meant to happen and how it is encouraging to know life is not a series of random chances, so too can we rest in a greater comfort of knowing that nothing happens apart from God’s divine will. We may not be fighting against dark lords or destroying powerful rings, but we still fight “against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Ephesians 6:12). But, unlike how the heroes in Tolkien’s works often felt, we do not fight alone. Our risen Savior prays for us that we will endure temptation (Luke 22:31-32), He will be with us in all of our trials and fiery furnaces, (Isaiah 43:2, Daniel 3:25), and He will shelter us from the storms we face (Isaiah 42:3, Psalm 46, Psalm 91).
As it is stated in fictitious circumstances throughout Tolkien’s works, so is it even more true for us, that nothing is accidental or happens outside of God’s control. The stories of J.R.R. Tolkien undoubtedly can be classified as Christian fantasy, just like The Chronicles of Narnia, for a variety of reasons, namely the beautiful metaphors that can be drawn between fiction and the Bible itself. But even more beautiful and comforting are the truths shown in scripture. May these stories, though from the faulty wellspring of human imagination, point us to the higher reality of God’s sovereignty. May we, with Isaiah, reflect on God’s command in Isaiah 46:9-11:
“Remember the former things of old: for I am God, and there is none else; I am God, and there is none like me, Declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure: Calling a ravenous bird from the east, the man that executeth my counsel from a far country: yea, I have spoken it, I will also bring it to pass; I have purposed it, I will also do it.”
Bibliography
Tolkien, J.R.R. “From a Letter by J.R.R. Tolkien.” The Silmarillion, HarperCollins Publishers, New York, NY, 2022, pp. xvii-xviii.
Tolkien, J.R.R. “Forward to the Second Edition.” The Lord of the Rings, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, New York, NY, 2021, p. xix.
Tolkien, J.R.R. “Ainulindalë.” The Silmarillion, HarperCollins Publishers, New York, NY, 2022, pp. 5-6.
Tolkien, J.R.R. “The Shadow of the Past.” The Lord of the Rings, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, New York, NY, 2021, p. 56.
King James Version Study Bible. Ed. Joel R. Beeke. Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2021. Print.
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