(Message given at Wayside Friends Church on June 1, 2025)
Those who have known me for awhile know that I have a tendency to use illustrations from the Lord of the Rings when I speak.
Because of my reputation, I have tried to break out of my ruts and not do that, and I’ve been successful at avoiding using anything Lord of the Rings for a few years.
But today…is today a day to avoid Lord of the Rings? As Aragorn says before the gates of Mordor: “It is not this day!” Today you have to follow me into my Lord of the Rings obsession, sorry/not sorry.
The chapter from Sarah Bessey’s book which I chose to guide me tonight was titled, “Cultivate hope on purpose.”
I made this choice because, well, I wanted to return a bit to my younger self, who was a little bit more hopeful than my present day self. I wanted to try and speak about hope.
Preparing for this has not been a walk in the park, can I just say that? What do we hold on to in order to have hope? Philippa Boyens, one of the screenwriters for the Lord of the Rings movies, talks about that struggle to find a reason for hope when they were writing the script toward the end of the second movie, the Two Towers. Listen to her talk about that moment:
(From the making of The Two Towers movie)
I’ll be honest, I don’t really like the “It’s worth fighting for” line that they added.
I think there’s a part of it that goes against Tolkien’s fundamental message. But this difference between the movie and the books, I think, draws out something important for us, as we think about where to place our hope, and what we need to do to cultivate it. So let’s tease out the difference a little bit.
Every time someone tries to take the ring, even with good motives, it corrupts them. That’s because the ring represents absolute evil, selfish power. One of the characters who shows how much the ring can destroy you is Gollum, a creature who possessed the ring for a very long time, and is reduced to nothing more than an addict who must have the ring.
Even Frodo, who suffers tremendously to get the ring to the Cracks of Doom, a volcano where the ring can be destroyed—when he gets there, he doesn’t have the strength to actually throw it in the fire.
In the movie, Gollum and Frodo struggle for the ring on the edge, and in the struggle Gollum falls with the ring into the fire. But unlike the book, Frodo goes over the edge too, hanging from the side of the cliff after Gollum falls.
But unlike the book, the ring just sits on top of the lava, unharmed—until Sam convinces Frodo to not give up, to fight for his life and reach for Sam’s hand. THEN the ring melts and is destroyed.
If your only exposure to the Lord of the Rings is the movies, the conclusion you could draw is that evil is defeated when we are strong enough to resist temptation and willing to fight for good even when things are hard.
If that is the message, then the way to cultivate hope is to find it in ourselves, in community, in struggle, in resisting the temptation of power and finding the strength to face the long odds and fight for goodness and life.
In Peter Jackson’s adaptation of the Lord of the Rings, the way to cultivate hope is inside of us. Community can help, but ultimately it’s me or it’s us trying to stay strong and fight for good. It’s Frodo finding the strength to choose to reach for Sam’s hand.
If that’s the ultimate way hope is cultivated, I think I’m in trouble.
Because I’m tired. I’m a bit jaded. I’m finding it harder than I did in my 20’s and 30’s to see how my efforts lead to “the good” winning, because in my 40’s and 50’s, I’ve watched many things that AREN’T good, that break community, that hurt the ones on the margins…I’ve watched those things be a lot stronger than my efforts.
Gregg in his 20’s and 30’s was much more like Sam, saying “don’t you let go!” and “Reach!” Gregg in his 40’s and 50’s identifies much more with the hopelessness in Frodo’s eyes, wondering if it’s just easier to stop trying.
But fortunately, TEN year old Gregg started reading the Lord of the Rings every single year for more than a decade, long before Peter Jackson ever made the movies.
And that means that Gregg in his 50’s also remembers Tolkien’s version, the book version that actually places the center of hope somewhere different than inside us.
And Tolkien’s version, I believe, is much more in line with the good news found in the bible. So it’s the bible, the book of Luke, where I want to go first, before I draw out the contrast between the Tolkien and Jackson view of hope in the Lord of the Rings.
In Sarah Bessey’s chapter on cultivating hope, she drew my attention to a section of the book of Luke that takes place three days after Jesus was crucified.
Two of Jesus’ followers are sad and despondent, hopes dashed, not seeing any way forward. It’s in Luke 24, starting in verse 13:
That same day [the day God resurrected Jesus, but they haven’t fully accepted that yet] two of Jesus’ followers were walking to the village of Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem. As they walked along they were talking about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things, Jesus himself suddenly came and began walking with them. But God kept them from recognizing him.
He asked them, “What are you discussing so intently as you walk along?”
They stopped short, sadness written across their faces. Then one of them, Cleopas, replied, “You must be the only person in Jerusalem who hasn’t heard about all the things that have happened there the last few days.”
“What things?” Jesus asked. [I love this! “Oooh, do tell! What has been happening? I imagine Jesus stifling a smirk here.]
“The things that happened to Jesus, the man from Nazareth,” they said. “He was a prophet who did powerful miracles, and he was a mighty teacher in the eyes of God and all the people. But our leading priests and other religious leaders handed him over to be condemned to death, and they crucified him. We had hoped he was the Messiah who had come to rescue Israel. This all happened three days ago. (Luke 24: 13-21, NLT)
“We had hoped.”
What had they hoped? That Jesus had come to rescue Israel. That he, the prophet and miracle worker and mighty teacher, that he would be strong enough, that he would have enough fortitude and strength to fight for the good.
Our hope had been that this guy had enough strength inside him to do what we need done in this world. But those hopes are squashed.
If the prophet, miracle worker, and mighty teacher didn’t have enough inside him to overturn that injustice and evil, how can I find the strength inside me to hope? That’s why we’re sad, that’s why we had hoped, that’s why we’re struggling.
Even though the women and Peter had given them words of hope that very morning, hope was still dead for these two. Verse 22:
“Then some women from our group of his followers were at his tomb early this morning, and they came back with an amazing report. They said his body was missing, and they had seen angels who told them Jesus is alive! Some of our men ran out to see, and sure enough, his body was gone, just as the women had said.” (Luke 24: 22-24, NLT)
Jesus is going to give a pretty harsh reply, which is something that’s always been a little troubling to me. Why is Jesus not more gracious with these two?
I think it’s because, even though they had heard about the radical work of God to bring Jesus back to life, it still wasn’t changing how they viewed hope. They say they heard this report that morning, but their earlier words have already betrayed the fact that it hadn’t made a difference. They were still defined by “We had hoped.” We had hoped, but we don’t really have it any longer.
And I think that’s what brings Jesus to give a rather sharp reply.
He needs to snap them out of it. He needs them to see that hope lies in a different place than inside us. Verse 25:
Then Jesus said to them, “You foolish people! You find it so hard to believe all that the prophets wrote in the Scriptures. Wasn’t it clearly predicted that the Messiah would have to suffer all these things before entering his glory?” Then Jesus took them through the writings of Moses and all the prophets, explaining from all the Scriptures the things concerning himself. (Luke 24: 25-27, NLT)
I don’t think Jesus calls them foolish because they somehow got their understanding of the scriptures wrong. I think he calls them foolish because they still haven’t seen that what the resurrection shows, what all of God’s interaction with Moses and God’s people throughout history shows, is that hope lies in God’s work in this world.
The hope of goodness and justice winning in this unjust world isn’t ultimately brought by us. In fact, there is a pretty strong record in the bible and throughout history that the ones who most try to support love and justice suffer under the unjust power structures of the world, rather than conquer them.
Jesus did. So many martyrs did.
I think Jesus is jarring them, calling them foolish, because he wants to re-orient us toward where God has always said hope lies.
It lies in our God, who brings water from the rock in the desert. It lies in our God, who dries up the Red Sea and the Jordan River. It lies in our God, who shuts the mouths of lions.
Yes we stand for good. Yes we speak up for justice. Yes we join together in community and help each other try to do what is right. But from history and from the bible, we can realistically expect those actions to cause suffering and setbacks, rather than being the things that ultimately bring goodness, justice, and hope.
And it is when we come through that struggle that our eyes are often opened to see that Jesus is right there, and has been walking with us all along. Verse 28:
By this time they were nearing Emmaus and the end of their journey. Jesus acted as if he were going on, but they begged him, “Stay the night with us, since it is getting late.” So he went home with them. As they sat down to eat, he took the bread and blessed it. Then he broke it and gave it to them. Suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And at that moment he disappeared! (Luke 24: 28-31, NLT)
Our hope is in the presence of Jesus. Our hope is in the actions of God, to work miracles and bring things to life that we watched die.
THIS is what cultivates long-lasting hope!
In the struggle, even when it seems our efforts and the things we’ve hoped in have failed, it is Jesus walking alongside us, present in the struggle, that cultivates hope. Verse 32:
They said to each other, “Didn’t our hearts burn within us as he talked with us on the road and explained the Scriptures to us?” And within the hour they were on their way back to Jerusalem. [Seven miles! On their own two feet! After dark!] There they found the eleven disciples and the others who had gathered with them, who said, “The Lord has really risen! He appeared to Peter.” (Luke 24: 32-34, NLT)
The presence of Jesus, and the recognition that God is at work more powerfully beyond the despair we see with our own eyes…this is what transforms these disciples. This is what keeps the message of Jesus from staying locked in an upper room with scared, broken people, but rather leads to the message of Jesus spreading around the world.
Do I have questions about why Jesus disappears as soon as they recognize him? Yes I do. Do I have questions about why God’s resurrection power doesn’t appear more often? Yes. Do I have questions about why I don’t always feel my heart “burning within me”? Yes.
But ultimately the story of Jesus reminds me that hope is not best cultivated by looking inside myself for energy and strength. It is best found by looking for the presence and activity of God.
I think I want to bring this home by returning to what Tolkien actually wrote in the Lord of the Rings: how it is different than the way Peter Jackson portrayed it in the movies, and how Tolkien came to fully understand, long after the fact, what he had done by writing this story as he did.
To understand what happens at the end of the Lord of the Rings, you have to remember Gandalf’s words to Frodo early in the book, about pity and mercy toward Gollum. Gollum is a scary, awful creature who is against the mission of destroying the ring. Fortunately, Peter Jackson got Gandalf’s words almost verbatim from the book:
(Clip from The Fellowship of the Ring, Extended Edition)
The fact that Bilbo and Frodo showed mercy and pity toward Gollum; the fact that they didn’t kill him when they had the chance, and when he rightfully deserved it for the corruption he had done; this is why Gollum is still alive at the end of the Lord of the Rings.
Gollum doesn’t become good.
He never repents. But when Frodo stands at the edge of the Crack of Doom and loses his strength and fails, when he claims the ring for himself, Gollum is there. Gollum tries to steal it for himself, and he succeeds.
But in the book, in his joy at gaining the object of his lust, he slips and falls into the Crack of Doom, and the ring is destroyed and the quest fulfilled.
Tolkien is crystal clear that this is an act of God’s providence.
Not that God caused Gollum’s fall, but that somehow, beyond Frodo’s good motives that he was unable to fulfill, beyond Gollum’s selfish motives that he was able to fulfill, the surprise and the good news is that goodness still comes through the grace and providence of God.
Tolkien invented his own word for this. Instead of a catastrophe—a sudden turn toward bad or evil—there is eucatastrophe—a sudden, unexpected turn toward good. This is the resurrection power of God.
There is a fascinating letter that Tolkien wrote in 1963*, a decade after he wrote the Lord of the Rings.
A woman named Eileen Elgar must have written and spoken about Frodo’s failure, and Tolkien says only one other person has written him about this very important point. The hope Frodo brings is not from someone who had the strength to succeed. The hope Frodo brings lies outside of Frodo. Tolkien writes in this letter:
“Frodo indeed ‘failed’ as a hero, as conceived by simple minds: he did not endure to the end; he gave in, ratted. I do not say ‘simple minds’ with contempt: they often see with clarity the simple truth and the absolute ideal to which effort must be directed, even if it is unattainable…[But] they tend to forget that strange element in the World that we call Pity or Mercy, which is also an absolute requirement in moral judgment (since it is present in the Divine nature.) In its highest exercise it belongs to God.”
This is the tie back to Gandalf’s words. Indeed, it is the deepest tie and connection to the real world, our world, to the very character of God and the nature of the world we live in. Not heroism, not power, but Mercy and Love are at the heart of true goodness. We can and should try to emulate it, but it’s highest exercise is not ours, but belongs to God. Tolkien goes on:
“I do not think that Frodo’s was a moral failure…Frodo had done what he could and spent himself completely (as an instrument of Providence) and had produced a situation in which the object of his quest could be achieved. His humility (with which he began) and his sufferings were justly rewarded by the highest honor; and his exercise of patience and mercy towards Gollum gained him Mercy: his failure was redressed.”
Frodo’s efforts mattered. What he did and tried to do actually allowed him to become an instrument of Providence, to become part of what God is doing in the world.
What we do matters. When we try to do and be like God, we can become part of what God is doing in the world. We can produce a situation where God can work goodness, where our hopes can be realized.
But it is not us who ultimately do this work. Mercy and redemption and resurrection are ultimately God’s work.
Tolkien continues, this from a little later in the letter:
“Frodo undertook his quest out of love—to save the world he knew from disaster at his own expense, if he could; and also in complete humility, acknowledging that he was wholly inadequate to the task. His real contract was only to do what he could, to try and find a way, and to go as far on the road as his strength of mind and body allowed. He did that. I do not myself see that the breaking of his mind and will under demonic pressure after torment was any more a moral failure than the breaking of his body would have been—say, by being…crushed by a falling rock.”
Ahh, now that is cultivating some hope in me. Our job is do do what we can, to go as far as our strength can carry us…and then the stage is set for God to move.
To be crystal clear: this message is not a “let go and let God” message.
No. To stay in Emmaus, and just contemplate biblical teaching and rehearse an encounter with Jesus isn’t the point. To stay in the Shire or in Rivendell and not do anything about evil is not the point. Standing aside leads to more pain and injustice.
This is a message for cultivating hope when things seem to have failed. Because the failure isn’t a sign that hope has failed. That’s only if hope is located within ourselves.
If our hope lies in the resurrecting goodness of God, then failure is something we should expect in this world of injustice. If our hope lies in the presence and ultimate power of God, then when we see the struggle and the failures around us, that is precisely when we also look for Jesus walking beside us. It is the time when we ask God to work through us, and even in spite of us.
If our hope lies in the love and mercy of God overcoming injustice, then we choose to act lovingly and mercifully even as we struggle for justice, even as we interact with those we see doing wrong.
May we not be weighed down and burdened by the obligation to cultivate hope within ourselves.
May we see the presence of Jesus walking alongside us. May we choose to act with love and mercy. May we listen when Jesus is correcting us and showing a different way forward. And may we be a community that helps each other cultivate a hope that is rooted in God’s activity.
* The full letter is worth reading, as it covers a lot of different amazing topics.