Tolkien

Incarnation, Mount Doom, and Dusting Off the Front Porch of my Writing Home

Hello!

It has been quite a long while since I have written in this space. I have dearly missed it, but it was for a purpose. I was intentionally absent from writing here for an undetermined amount of time, while like a ship on the open ocean, I turned my attention full steam ahead to helping lay the foundations of a church plant alongside my husband. I have still been writing, but my writing has been focused on sending church plant updates to our prayer and support team, sending news of what God is doing through their prayers, encouragement, and support. So many people are involved in this work in various ways. For us, our role is on the front lines, and as such, we are reporting the answers to prayer, the changes in people’s lives, the work Jesus is doing, and the way the gospel is forming a people for God’s glory and kingdom here. It is a specific type of church ministry, and one that we would not recommend people get into unless they absolutely feel called by our loving Lord Jesus. In fact, recruiting for the adventure of church planting can be summarized in a quote by J.R.R. Tolkien:

“I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone.' I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!” -JRR Tolkien, The Hobbit

I jest!

A winter storm is looming over the western horizon this week. surging over the mountain range, sending fierce gusts down through the hills of sagebrush and wildflowers. I sit with my favorite Mexican blanket wrapped snug around me in our “bear den”, slowly sipping a third cup of coffee, listening to the wind shaking the glass doors of our fireplace, and the faithful hum of the dryer machine tumbling clothes. Like the unfurling of a thousand magnolia petals in spring, this writing home peeks into the open and considers whether it is time to awake.

I am reading The Lord of the Rings trilogy aloud to my children. We are in the third volume, The Return of the King (my second time reading through the entire trilogy). We are nearing the end. I was reading the chapter called  Mount Doom. The kids prepared their mugs of hot tea. One was working on homework, one snuggled under a blanket, and two drawing and painting with watercolors. I had lit two candles. My heart was full. 

It was the climax of the entire 1008 page story. Perhaps I had too much coffee to drink that morning, or perhaps its middle age, but for some reason… I was moved to tears. Sam and Frodo were nearing the moment that would affect the entire course of history in Middle Earth and determine its fate forever. Frodo couldn’t go on, and his will was bending to the desires of the power of Mordor. Sam was determined. He would not let his friend give up. Sam realized this was the very purpose for which he had come. He finally knew his calling, and his mind was set to help Frodo finish his quest. In fact… “He felt no longer either desire or need of sleep, but rather of watchfulness.”

Watchfulness. 

As Frodo struggled on against all probability of a successful mission, an epiphany was happening within Sam. He knew Frodo was destined to the task of destroying the one ring and that he couldn’t fulfill Frodo’s destiny in his place. And yet, Frodo couldn’t do this alone. It is here we see Sam embrace his own calling, which was to practice the discipline of incarnation. 

“Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you.”

Last week, our Bible study group was discussing the incarnating work that Christ performed in various places in the gospel narratives. His display of compassion in these accounts transformed specific people’s lives, and through being included in the canon of Scripture, has transformed even the world. He taught his disciples how to incarnate into people’s lives.

What is incarnation? In his book, Compassion - Person of Jesus: A Study of Love, Paul E. Miller says,

“Incarnation seeks to go inside of others to find out what their needs are, as opposed to standing on the outside and helping them. When I incarnate with you, I slow down and think about your world. No one can help me think more clearly about your world than you.” (pg 114)


In many ways, we see Frodo as a picture of Christ. But we can also see Christ in the role of Sam as he takes on the example of the Good Samaritan who carried the beaten man back into life by providing for his physical and financial needs which then restored his very life. In the same way, Good “Sam”aritan carried Frodo into life by incarnating with him and literally taking on Frodo’s burden to save the world. This is as much a story about Sam as it is of Frodo.

“…Sam staggered to his feet; and then to his amazement he felt the burden light.”


Perhaps I was stirred because in this moment, I see two parallels. First, as a church planting wife, I see myself in the role of Sam at times. I am not called to the task of being a church planting pastor, but I am called to being a church planter’s wife. I am not called to carry all the responsibilities that come with being a Shepherd of a congregation, but I am called to be his helper. I am not called to know everyone’s journey in our congregation, but for those who share with me their stories, I hold those stories very carefully. As a pastor’s wife, I can’t carry my husband’s specific tasks for him, but I can carry him by loving him in a myriad of ways. Perhaps at times, I have been fearful of how to step into this role, but once embraced, the burden feels at times light, as if maybe Jesus really meant it when he said, 

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30


Here we come to the second parallel. The task that I am called to feels surprisingly light, once embraced, because the Lord is the one who strengthens me with his power, equips me through the Holy Spirit and his Word, and fully and totally completes the work that He has started (Philippians 1:6). Like John the Baptist, I can say, “I am not the Christ.” I don’t have to have all the answers, because Jesus does. He is the one who swept in and stepped in between us and our Enemy, and rescued us.

Jesus carries us across the finish line, because we are too weak to do this work in our own strength. He is strong. Each of God’s children is called to a task, or a quest, if you will. But it is God’s strength that carries us and enables us to finish the course he has prepared for us… and when embraced, to our amazement, we, too, feel the burden light because He is holding us.

What caused a few tears to fall while I read to my children? Perhaps I was stirred in that moment because of the simple human need to carry and to be carried, to incarnate and be incarnated with, to rescue and be rescued.