Does The Lord of the Rings Teach Salvation By Works?
The authors of Tolkien's Ordinary Virtues and J. R. R. Tolkien's Sanctifying Myth talk about whether Tolkien was too ignorant of evil and other subjects.
Brad Birzer and Mark Eddy Smith | posted 12/01/2002 12:00AM

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But, the differences between Tolkien and Lewis were more cultural, I think, than theological. As Warnie Lewis explained about his brother, he was first and foremost an Ulsterman. Orange suited him far better than Green. Certainly, in many way, Lewis accepted fundamental tenets of Catholicism—especially the belief in purgatory. Lewis's understanding of it, however, is quite different than the Catholic understanding. For Lewis, one could go either to heaven or hell from purgatory. From the Catholic perspective, one can only go to heaven from purgatory. It is, in essence, a process of purifying fire (1 Cor. 3:10-15).
The Catholic understanding of sanctification, as Tolkien believed it, also explains his reluctance to know much—if anything—regarding evil. The more a person knows about evil, the less he knows about Good. And I would argue that one of the most brilliant aspects of The Lord of the Rings is Tolkien's ability to glorify Good, something very difficult in the modern world. As I mentioned in the first letter, modernity assaults us. It assaults us everywhere and in almost everything. I believe, along with the Christian Humanists, that this weakens our souls, as it diminishes our communication (prayer) to God. When we get back on the right path—as we forget our own sinful wills, and embrace grace—we do so at a lower level than when we left the path, having to retrace much of what we have already accomplished. I think of Dante in the Purgatorio. When someone recites his poetry to him, he listens and falls in love with himself, only to realize moments later that his pilgrimage to heaven—the most important journey he will ever take—has halted.
Sam, I think, provides the best example of the sanctification of the humble. Though he would much rather be with Rosie, his garden, his pipe, his mug, he knows that as a true person, he must lay down the plow and pick up the sword. The goal is not to kill, but to defend, so that he and his kind can live again in peace, comfort, and freedom—a freedom not to do anything, but, as St. Paul tells us in his letter to the Galatians, the freedom to do what is right. Sam also knows that he himself may die in the effort. "There is no greater love than this, that a man should lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13)
St. John was Tolkien's patron saint, but he also served as a great inspiration for the character of Sam. Just as St. John was the only one of the twelve to stand with our Lord at the foot of the cross, Sam remains faithful to Frodo, even to the Cracks of Doom.
Thanks,
Brad
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From: Mark Eddy Smith
To: Brad Birzer
Dear Brad,
Thanks for shedding some light for me on the Catholic understanding of salvation. It is indeed complex! And ultimately unfathomable. But it's good to attempt to sound its depths. One of the things I love about Tolkien is that he attempted to sound such depths not abstractly, but through story, through the imagined lives of specific people. The brilliance of this method lies in the fact that stories are not intended to be normative. Another person's journey may be quite different, but either through contrast or comparison, the characters Tolkien created can help us understand ourselves and each other exactly because they are themselves, single and unique, and generalizations drawn from their experiences must only be made with great care.
I love the fact that characters such as Aragorn and Faramir and hobbits in general (even Ringwraiths) appeared in Tolkien's writing process from an unknown source, and that he followed their stories until he figured out who they were. At the Prancing Pony, according to what I've read, Tolkien was as nonplussed as the hobbits to find a hooded, roguish-looking man with long legs smoking in a corner. The stranger turned out to be Aragorn, the heir of kings, because that's who he was, not because Tolkien needed a King Arthur-type figure for his plot. Tolkien knew that if he surrendered his will to the process of sub-creation, and worked diligently to get the true story down as he was receiving it, then it would perforce be imbued with the truths he believed most strongly.