TOLKIEN’S ORDINARY VIRTUES: SIMPLICITY
By Mark Eddy Smith
HOBBITS ARE A RUSTIC PEOPLE, with little use for machinery and
little concern for the affairs of the larger world. They are fond of
eating (plenty and often), and they
prize predictability over originality. They despise
adventures of any kind,
considering them (rightly), ‘nasty, disturbing,
uncomfortable things. Make you late
for dinner!’” (The Hobbit, p. 18).
Hobbits are unlikely heroes.
Nevertheless, no less august a person than
Gandalf the Grey, a wizard of some
renown, chose a hobbit, Mr. Bilbo Baggins, as chief
burglar for a group of Dwarves
seeking to reclaim their ancestral home from a
fearsome dragon. His choice
seemed the height of foolishness to the Dwarves, but
in the end they discovered
that cleverness, resourcefulness and leadership may
sometimes be found in the
most unlikely places, and indeed they almost surely
would not have succeeded in
the adventure without their burglar’s
assistance.
Gandalf apparently had some inkling
of Bilbo’s potential, but he probably had no
idea of the consequences of his choice. That Bilbo
would find the One Ring, lost for
generations, that he would play a part in the
greatest conflict of the Third Age of
Middle- earth, was surely beyond the wildest dreams
of any of the wise, and it did
not come into any of the old prophecies. What seemed
little more than a mad
whim, an amusing footnote in the annals of history,
became the seed of something
that would shake the tower of Barad-dûr,
ancient fortress of the Dark Lord Sauron.
Nothing in
the long, uneventful history of the Shire suggested
that its inhabitants
might be capable of wielding such power. Centuries of
peace had made Hobbits
soft. Yet they had not lost the strength with which
they were created. “There is a
seed of courage hidden (often deeply, it is true) in
the heart of the fattest and
most timid hobbit, waiting for some final and
desperate danger to make it grow”
(I:178).
It is
the nature of seeds to lie dormant as long as
necessary. And once they have
sprouted, they need time and careful tending in order
to grow. Simple people can
be maddeningly shortsighted and provincial, but the
cost of gaining wisdom and
perspective is often calamity. As Frodo says,
contemplating his departure:
I should like to save the
Shire, if I could—though there have been times
when I thought the inhabitants too dull and stupid
for words, and have felt
that an earthquake or an invasion of dragons might be
good for them. But I
don’t feel like that now. I feel that as long
as the Shire lies behind, safe and
comfortable, I shall find wandering more bearable: I
shall know that
somewhere there is a firm foothold, even if my feet
cannot stand there
again. (I:88-89)
An
example of Hobbits’ maddening simplicity comes
in the Birthday Party that
opens the tale. All the Bracegirdles, Hornblowers,
Proudfoots and other clans
gather, not so much to honor Bilbo as to take
advantage of the opportunity of
feasting for free, enjoying spectacular fireworks and
enduring the inevitable Speech.
They do not understand, nor do they care to learn,
the part that Bilbo played in
defeating a dragon or in bringing about peace between
Dwarves, Wood-elves and
the Men of the Lake. Few in the Shire even believe
his tales; they think him
eccentric at best and completely cracked at worst.
It is hard to be patient with
such folk.
Strength is not created by adversity; it
is merely awakened by it. The hobbits are
defended on many fronts by more sophisticated people
who do not believe that
simplicity is a sign of weakness. As Aragorn says at
Elrond’s Council, “If simple folk
are free from care and fear, simple they will
be” (I:299). But this protection does
not diminish the possibility that the most heroic
deeds may be accomplished, or at
least attempted, by the very same simple folk that
are thus sheltered.
Before all is said and done, the hobbits
shall have their calamity, and all of them
will have the chance to learn of what stuff they are
made, for wisdom and
perspective are more important than safety. But that
comes later. In the
meantime they have to be protected from “foes
that would freeze their hearts”
(I:299) long enough to confront a more Hobbit-sized
disaster. It is to be hoped
that even after their day of reckoning they will
continue to be a simple people, only
wiser and more compassionate. Indeed, throughout the
adventures of the three
hobbits who accompany Frodo, they call upon their
plain Hobbit-sense in their
darkest moments and find that it sustains them.
On
the other hand, there is often more to the simplest
of our friends than it
appears. Even Frodo is surprised by Sam’s
pensive and poetic response to the
Elves they meet as they are leaving
Hobbiton.
“They are quite
different from what I expected—so old and
young, and so
gay and sad, as it were.” Frodo looked at Sam
rather startled, half expecting
to see some outward sign of the odd change that
seemed to have come
over him. It did not sound like the voice of the old
Sam Gamgee that he
thought he knew, but it looked like the old Sam
Gamgee sitting there,
except that his face was unusually thoughtful.
(I:117-18) It is all too easy
to fall into patterns of relationship wherein all
responses are predictable
because we ourselves are saying nothing new. It
often requires seeing
friends in different contexts, in the company of
strangers, to open our eyes
to the unsuspected depths of their character.
If
simplicity is a virtue, then living simple lives and
cherishing simple pleasures are
all that is required for our lives to have value. We
need not feel guilty when we
suspect we should be doing more for God’s
kingdom, for when he needs us he will
call us, and until then we can be content to husband
our strength, put down roots
and enjoy the good things that have been given us.
This is not to say that we
shouldn’t seek to improve ourselves or minister
to those around us, only that
limiting our efforts to our immediate family and
neighbors is sufficient until our
calling has been revealed.
When
God does call us, it may be to a journey of danger
and terror, with the
possibility of no return, or it may be to the simpler
danger and terror of confronting
a boss whose practices seem a little shaky. The most
simple among us are not
safe from these possibilities. On the other hand, it
may be that our calling is simply
to live well in the midst of the community we were
born in. This is not to be
despised. The tale of Frodo and his friends may give
us hope that we will be given
the strength and the help we need to accomplish
whatever task is set before us.
Taken from
Tolkien’s Ordinary Virtues: Exploring the
Spiritual Themes of The Lord
of the Rings by Mark Eddy Smith. Copyright
© 2002 by InterVarsity Christian
Fellowship/USA. Permission kindly granted to
Faith and Reason Forum by
InterVarsity Press.
COMMENT BY Faith & Reason
Forum:
We have to remember that reading Tolkien
doesn’t take the place of scripture, yet his
stories contain good lessons that children can learn
from and relate to.
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