Recently in Tolkien Tuesdays Category

The Lord of the Rings has grown in popularity the last few years largely because of the Peter Jackson films. Though I’m pleased to see a renewed interest in this great story, I fear many who share this interest have never actually read the books. That, to me, is very unfortunate. There is so much treasure to be found in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I discover more each time I read them. So, in an effort to increase interest in Tolkien’s masterpiece I asked Dr. Michael Stanton, Professor Emeritus of English at the University of Vermont, to field questions related to Tolkien’s Middle-earth world. He graciously agreed to the interview. Even if you're not an LOTR fan (yet), I think you will find his answers very insightful and informative. He’s agreed to respond to any questions you might have regarding his answers in the comment section below. So, please feel free to post questions. Dr. Stanton has been very kind to answer these LOTR questions. (Here's part one of the interview)

1. What was Tolkien’s understanding of evil and in what ways is it reflected in The Lord of the Rings?

This is both one of the simplest and most complex of questions. Simply, evil manifests itself as hatred of life; but that hatred works its way through LOTR in a great variety of ways. Sauron hates life, and he shows it by destroying natural life (plants, animals) in every region he dominates. He especially hates free life, as Gandalf warns Frodo: “Hobbits as miserable slaves would please him [Sauron]far more than hobbits happy and free.” (FR, 1, II) So that hatred unfolds in many ways and at many levels: Sauron’s follower and rival Saruman cuts down trees in Fangorn Forest and converts Isengard from a garden into a place of iron and crude robotics. And Saruman’s own followers once established in the Shire ruin its landscape and pollute its waters.

Evil hates life because life is by nature profoundly creative, while evil is profoundly uncreative, even more, anti-creative. It is thoroughly traditional theology to view evil as a negation, as nothing in itself, hence the association with blackness, the absence of light. Sauron can create nothing: even his orcs were once elves, but he has deformed and twisted them, as he deformed ents into trolls, Treebeard says. Sauron can pervert and subvert life, but he cannot create it. He is therefore both hateful and jealous of life-affirming forces like free people.

All this may be Tolkien’s way of showing us that the idea that good cannot exist or at least be understood without the existence of evil is silly. They are not equal and opposite forces; that would partake of the Manichean heresy.

Evil is a negative, a falling away from good. Elrond says at his Council that nothing is evil in the beginning; even Sauron was not so. When Frodo looks in the Mirror of Galadriel he sees Sauron’s eye: “a window into nothing.”

Tolkien’s is a traditional viewpoint, having much in common with both the dogma of the Church Fathers and with John Milton’s Paradise Lost. In that poem, as Tolkien’s friend C. S. Lewis observed, Satan no sooner begins speaking than within ten lines he is talking about himself. It’s all ego, and pride, and envy. Such is evil in The Lord of the Rings. And it lacks imagination: that may be the least human aspect of it, for we humans do have great gifts of imagination: our imagination is a gift to us from God, says Tolkien in “On Fairy-Stories.” So Sauron, being entirely wrapped up in himself, cannot imagine what course any other being could follow. As Gandalf says a couple of times, he cannot imagine that, having the Ring, the Free Peoples would not use it. That’s what he would do. And worse, as Gandalf says, “that we [the West] should try to destroy the Ring itself has not entered into his darkest dream.” Evil’s lack of imagination is Good’s greatest hope.

2. What happened to Gandalf between his fall on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm and his return as Gandalf the White?

I delivered a paper on this topic at a conference a couple of years ago in which I argued that less happened to Gandalf in that interval than people want to believe. My opinion was not very warmly received. Tolkien said different things about this subject at different times.

My own belief has always been that just as the Valar originally sent Gandalf (and the other wizards) to Middle-earth, so they took him back to the West after he defeated the Balrog, reconstituted him and instructed him, and returned him to Middle-earth as the White, as the figure of power and wisdom which Saruman should have been, as Gandalf himself says. “Naked I was sent back,” he also says, and the passive verb is important.

This is, in its own way, common sense. Unfortunately, Tolkien said in a letter to a Jesuit priest, Father Robert Murray, that Gandalf did indeed go back to the West, but his reconstitution was taken from the hands of the Valar, and that Eru himself, the One, saw to Gandalf’s return, enhanced and empowered. Gandalf himself does not say anything beyond the cryptic “I strayed out of thought and time, and I wandered far on roads that I will not tell,” which can mean any number of things.

In that same letter to Fr. Murray, Tolkien says he would have to make certain changes in the language of the LOTR text to show that Gandalf’s return had been implemented at a higher level of Authority. But even though the letter was written before LOTR ever saw print, and even though a major revision of the whole text took place in 1965, Tolkien never did change the language, so you have to wonder just what he did intend. Anyway, Gandalf was at least as strong before his fall as after. The Balrog was the most powerful enemy he ever directly faced.

I won’t rewrite my whole paper here but I remain pretty certain that the Valar, and no one else, took Gandalf from the mountain-top, healed him in the West, and returned him to Middle-earth.

3. Is there any way in which we can say that there are Christ figure-like characters in LOTR or at least characters that in some small way point to Christ?

I suppose any story that involves a character’s self-sacrifice for others can be said to have Christ-like attributes. I fail to see why it is so important to find such figures; it in no way makes the story more valid or more interesting.

Before I get into too much hot water, let me just point our that Tolkien himself denied any intention to create such figures (it would be blasphemous to make such a parallel, he said) and that Tolkien strongly objected to, even ridiculed, C. S. Lewis’s Narnia chronicles for their open religiosity and Christian symbolism.

4. What did you like and not like about how Peter Jackson turned the book into a movie?

First of all, I believe that the book is primary and that any adaptation of it into another medium should be as faithful as possible. In the late 17th century Nahum Tate thought he was improving Shakespeare’s King Lear by giving it a happy ending, but most people since would not agree. What he did was re-write in order to cater to prevailing audience taste. To an extent Peter Jackson did likewise, by emphasizing female roles, particularly Arwen’s, by making Gimli a figure of fun, and so on.

What I disliked:

-some of the casting: I thought Ian McKellan was perfect as Gandalf, Elijah Woods was OK as Frodo, Sean Astin was better than OK as Sam, but Hugo Weaving was totally unsuitable as Elrond. He did not look or sound like Elrond. Christopher Lee was a fine Saruman but Jackson and his cohorts apparently did not notice that in the book we never see him wearing white. White is what he used to wear before he went wrong; the change in costume color has significance, or at least it was meant to.

-changes in characterization: Faramir is made into a junior Boromir in the film, whereas Tolkien emphasized the contrast between the two brothers. Similarly, Frodo is made to seem weak-minded by listening to Gollum and thereby rejecting Sam and sending him away in “The Return.” This is a betrayal and a misreading of Frodo’s moral character as Tolkien s it to us.

-omissions: I think cutting Tom Bombadil’s chapters was regrettable but probably necessary, whereas the Scouring of the Shire should have been included. As developed in the book it was both predictable and inevitable, and was a useful reminder that evil does not exist merely in rings but more centrally in people’s hearts. The Edmund Burke quotation I mentioned is still apt: “All that is required for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing,” and that’s just what happened in the Shire.

What I liked:

-the settings: New Zealand is a beautiful country with a variety of microclimates: everything needed for Middle-earth is there, although not always to scale (the River Anduin, for instance, changes character as the Company goes southward; Jackson needed several different New Zealand rivers to show the changes)

to some extent, the technology: I thought the city of Minas Tirith and the fortress of Helm’s Deep were beautifully realized, although they were mostly studio work.. Similarly, Gollum was well done by motion capture, although necessarily cartoonish. Andy Serkis was very good at the gestures and the voice. Tbe irony here, of course, is that Tolkien hated most manifestations of modern technology, and yet the film of his book could not have been effectively realized without it.

This is by no means a comprehensive list of likes and dislikes, rather just a sample of the things uppermost in my mind.

5. Can you tell us a little about your LOTR trip to New Zealand? What did you do and what was it like? Do you have any plans to go again?

The trip was organized by a woman who does these things for a living (she does nature tours, and garden tours, and so on.) She is a Kiwi but lives in California; I had met her before and when she learned that I was interested in Tolkien and had written about LOTR, she decided to organize a tour of the filming sites (the first two movies had already come out when we left in January, 2004). We visited Hobbiton, which was one of only two places exempt from the New Zealand government’s requirement that the film-makers remove all traces of their work. We rafted down one of the rivers which constituted the Anduin and visited both the place where Sam and Frodo crossed into the Emyn Muil on their way to Mordor, and the place where Theoden’s castle and city had been erected, among many other places. We even got to meet some of the artisans and craftsmen from the Weeta studios where the swords and other weapons and armaments were fabricated.

We covered many spots in both the North and South Islands on an 18-day itinerary. We traveled mostly by bus, but also by helicopter (to visit the place where the Company emerged from the Mines of Moria), by boat as noted, and by foot. There were 18 or 20 of us, of all ages and kinds of interests, female students who loved Orlando Bloom, elderly folk who were interested in Tolkien’s religious beliefs, teachers, librarians, and literary types like myself, and so on. We had guides at most points, many of whom had worked with Jackson and his crew as local guides and advisers and who were therefore knowledgeable about the film-making process. We were fortunate enough to be accompanied for several days by Ian Brodie, who had written a book about the correlation between New Zealand sites and film scenes.
We also had DVDs of the first two segments of the movie, and at night in our various hotels we would watch the movie scenes of the spots we had visited that day, and discuss what we had seen.

The weather was for the most part excellent: it was January, which is mid-summer in New Zealand. We stayed in good hotels, ate good food (hard to avoid in that country if you like plain hearty cooking with lots of beef and lamb), and were treated with great courtesy everywhere we went. It was altogether a rewarding experience.

I would like to return to New Zealand, not for the film associations, but for the country itself. But the trip is expensive, the plane ride is long and tiring, and a lot of advance planning is almost a necessity.

I am almost sure that this does not answer your or your readers’ questions adequately, but I have very much enjoyed participating in the blog experience. Thanks for asking me along.

The Lord of the Rings has grown in popularity the last few years largely because of the Peter Jackson films. Though I’m pleased to see a renewed interest in this great story, I fear many who share this interest have never actually read the books. That, to me, is very unfortunate. There is so much treasure to be found in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. I discover more each time I read them. So, in an effort to increase interest in Tolkien’s masterpiece I asked Dr. Michael Stanton, Professor Emeritus of English at the University of Vermont, to field questions related to Tolkien’s Middle-earth world. He graciously agreed to the interview. Even if you're not an LOTR fan (yet), I think you will find his answers very insightful and informative. He’s agreed to respond to any questions you might have regarding his answers in the comment section below. So, please feel free to post questions. Also, this is part one of a two or three part interview with him.

Here’s a little biographical information about Dr. Stanton:

EDUCATIONAL BACKGROUND: He received a B.A. in English from the University of Vermont in 1968 (summa cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa) and a Ph.D. from the University of Rochester in 1971. His dissertation was on the English poet Robert Southey.

RELIGIOUS BELIEFS: none

TOLKIEN SCHOLARSHIP: chiefly Hobbits, Elves, and Wizards: Exploring the Worlds and Wonders J. R. R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" (St. Martin's 2001). Also: ten articles or so in the Tolkien: Encyclopedia (ed. Michael Drout, Routledge, 2006) and "Tolkien in New Zealand" a chapter in Jane Chance, ed., Tolkien and the Modern Middle Ages (Palgrave Macmillan, 2006) plus assorted papers, talks, etc. at conferences and in local schools and libraries over the years.

1a. Dr. Stanton, you are currently Professor Emeritus of English at the University of Vermont. What Tolkien related courses have you taught over the years?

I am pleased to say that I began teaching a course at the University of Vermont in science fiction and fantasy in 1972. It was one of the first courses of that kind at any university in the U.S. (one of the first 100 perhaps). It included Tolkien, usually just The Lord of the Rings, and I taught it practically every semester until I ceased teaching in 2001. Unlike many readers, I did not meet LOTR until I was a grown man, first reading it in 1965. I think that when you encounter Tolkien makes a big difference in how you regard him: the earlier the exposure the more superficial the response. In the same vein, I feel sorry for young people now who know LOTR only through the Peter Jackson films.

1b. What did you like most about teaching these courses?

Well, I got to teach some of my favorite stuff: not just Tolkien but also Ursula LeGuin, Richard Adams, and others in the fantasy vein, and Clarke and Asimov, for example, in science fiction.

I liked the fact that no one else (for a long while) was teaching these materials and I thus could establish a little niche all my own in the departmental structure.

I liked more that the students tended not to be English majors (the course had no prerequisites) nor even literary types, but simply kids who loved the stories and responded with great enthusiasm and greater or less sophistication to them. They were able to broaden and deepen that earlier response I mentioned above, which was delightful. Equally delightful were the students who had heard of Tolkien (as who had not?) but had never actually read him before. To them, it was a revelation; their responses were often a revelation to me..

2. As you know, my blog’s name is “eucatastrophe”, a word coined by Tolkien. Would you briefly define it and provide an example from either Tolkien’s or C.S. Lewis’ writings? Also, I know that The Lord of the Rings itself is technically not a eucatastrophe even though it contains stories that might be classified as such (i.e. Helms Deep). Do you know why Tolkien did not choose to write it as an example of eucatastrophe?

One thing I have noticed is that even though Tolkien coined the term back in the late 1930s, when he was still in the early stages of writing LOTR, very few of his earlier critics seem to have picked up on it. Paul Kocher (1972) devotes a page or so to the concept; Randal Helms (1974) hardly more. The first extended treatment I have found was in Ruth Noel’s Tolkien’s Mythology (1979); by the time we get to Tom Shippey’s Tolkien: Author of the Century (2000) we find half a dozen or more pages. Maybe it’s the New Age influence which has brought the quasi-spiritual side of Tolkien into prominence. You could probably deal better with that question than I.

“Eu-cata-strophe” as a word: always important to remember that Tolkien was first and foremost a student of languages, so what did he mean by this coinage?

“strophe” = turn “cata” = down, against, back “eu” = good

In our modern usage “catastrophe” has come to mean a large-scale calamity or horror (Hurricane Katrina comes to mind); thus Tolkien’s word means almost the opposite: a large-scale turn toward the good from an originally dire situation. What Tolkien says about it in his discussion at the end of “On Fairy-Stories” is that it is a kind of revelation, a glimpse or feeling of joy not unmixed with sorrow (the two always seem intertwined).

What Tolkien seems to suggest is that “drama” and “narrative” are two independent ways of relating human actions: one by representation, the other by story-telling. He says that “tragedy” is the natural form of drama, whereas “eucatastrophe” is the natural outcome of a told story. an achieved and merited happy outcome, earned by moral qualities like courage and loyalty.

I think it’s important to keep in mind that a “eucatastrophe” does not mean a happy ending: as Tolkien says in his essay, fairy tales have no ending (“they lived happily ever after” being just a dodge or a time-saver) and as Sam says in LOTR itself the old stories just go on and on. When Sam says at the very end “Well, I’m back” he seems to mean that he is ready to resume his life and its story.

“Eucatastrophe” can reside in the way a story is constructed, so as to achieve that turn towards joy, or it can reside in the feelings aroused in the reader: preferably, the first leading to the second.

I think you are right to say that LOTR as a whole is not “eucatastrophic” but contains several good examples of the phenomenon. Helm’s Deep may be a very good example; Tom Shippey cites the events at the Field of Cormallen as pointing to “eucatastrophe.” His whole discussion is worth reading: it is scholarly but not, to me, convincing, based as it is on the fact that the Ring was destroyed on the 25th of March, which was the day (in tradition) of Christ’s conception, the Annunciation.

C. S. Lewis, being a much more blatantly Christian writer, may provide better examples. One that occurs to me is from the ending of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, where the children seem to get a glimpse of Aslan’s realm:

It lasted only a second or so but what it brought them in that second none of those three children will ever forget. It brought both a smell and a sound, a musical sound. Edmund and Eustace would never talk about it afterwards. Lucy could only say, “It would break your heart.” “Why,” said I, “was it so sad?” “Sad! No,” said Lucy. (p. 212)

To answer the last part of your question, Tolkien may not have written the LOTR as a whole as a eucatastrophe because he was an artist, and an artist knows that a fictional tale, even a romance, has to have an ending. In other words his choice may have been based on literary and technical grounds. Or it may be an example of the old conflict between life and art, in which life has no shape, no chapters, no ending except one, whereas a work of art has to have shape and form, and also represent life.

3. Dr. Stanton, talk about “redemptive” themes in The Lord of the Rings has been fairly popular the last few years. What do you think Tolkien would say about all this redemptive talk?

Tolkien’s response: probably he would treat this kind of discussion along the same lines as he treated talk of allegory: dismissively.

I myself have a problem answering the question, who or what is being redeemed? I hope I am not being dense when I suggest that saving the world (which Frodo does in his way) is not the same as redeeming it. Evil continues to exist, as the hobbits find out when they return to the Shire; evil is in hearts and spirits not in rings. There is no suggestion of redemption in the sense we are told that Christ was the Redeemer: no one in Middle-earth is promised or becomes eligible for Heaven or its equivalent; even those who go to the Blessed Realm, like Frodo, can go there only to heal and live better lives; like all mortals, they die at last and Tolkien does not specify a fate for them after that. To those who are immortal anyway, like Gandalf, none of this would apply.

If you take the word “redeem” in a secular sense, you have several examples within LOTR; one that comes to mind is Boromir, who has fallen victim to the evil of the Ring trying to wrest it from Frodo, and who redeems himself by sacrificing his life in defense of the younger hobbits in the woods a few minutes later. By this time Gandalf has also sacrificed himself for the Company, but there is no question of his needing redemption.

Can things non-sentient be redeemed? Is the Shire redeemed in any strict sense when Sam has done his horticultural work? Vastly improved, to be sure, or restored, but I think we need to be exact about word usage (else Tolkien’s ghost will haunt us).

Since Tolkien even in a fantasy story can be realistic, it must be said that the unredeemed outnumber the redeemed by a considerable margin. I think of Denethor, Gollum, and Saruman as examples. This is part of the basis for my opening remark that Tolkien would look askance at an extended discussion of this topic.

4. Who is your favorite LOTR character and why?

Faramir, by a long ways. (He also happened to be one of Tolkien’s favorite characters, or at any rate the character Tolkien thought most like himself, except that, said Tolkien, Faramir was brave). Faramir had most of the attributes a true citizen of Middle-earth would have—he was both a warrior and a scholar, and clearly preferred the latter role. He was skilled and courteous in speech and was both loved and respected by his men. Interestingly both brothers, Boromir and Faramir, were willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater cause; Boromir had to make the supreme sacrifice whereas Faramir lived on into the Fourth Age perhaps to suggest what a model human being should be in the new dispensation.

(Faramir’s relationship to his brother would be interesting to trace: F. clearly loved and admired B., although it is unclear to what extent Boromir deserved those feelings. I don’t think B. tormented his younger brother when they were young, but I’ll bet he teased him unceasingly. “Yah yah, I’m going to be Steward some day and you’re not! Yah yah.” This did not necessarily decrease F.’s affection for B., since at least he was paying attention to the younger boy, which their father Denethor apparently was not.)
All that is an aside, however.

5. I find Tom Bombadil to be a mysterious and fascinating character. Even though we might have expected him to join the quest since the ring has no power over him, he has no interest in involving himself. Why do you think he’s in the story?

As to why TB is there at all, I can give no better answer than Tolkien did himself, which I quoted in my book. In his letter to Naomi Mitchison (see Letters, #144), he said that TB represents an essentially pacifist and neutralist point of view. Even the very best people in Middle-earth, Gandalf, Elrond, Frodo, are somehow involved in a struggle about power: TB has no interest in power. So he provides an alternative in that sense; he also provides an alternative example for the reader to someone like Saruman or Sauron: TB is “master,” but under him nature is free, whereas the other two seek to dominate and indeed distort nature for their own ends, which include the acquisition of power. What TB does not understand, however, and this is a point Tolkien is making, is that his own existence is dependent on those who are struggling about power: he cannot pretend to be superior to them, for, as someone observes at the Council of Elrond, if Sauron prevails, in the end TB will fall, “last as he was first.”

TB’s being first suggests another function he has: to give perspective on the whole history of Middle-earth. TB is a time traveler in a way, and time seems to be less rigid and linear in his realm than elsewhere: Frodo in TB’s house can have a dream about the end of his own life here in Middle-earth and his translation to the Blessed Realm. TB can carry the hobbits in his house, narratively at least, back to earlier ages. And he gives the younger hobbits weapons, one of which finally defeats the Captain of the Nazgûl at the Battle of Pelennor Fields. So he has that much connection to the plot of the story.

Dr. Stanton, thank you so much for taking the time to answer these questions. I personally found your answers enlightening and interesting, especially your answer on redemption. I really hope that this will encourage those who have not yet read the books to do so.

Galatians 1:4 Who [referring to Jesus] gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us [that he might rescue us] from this present evil world

There is a great scene toward the beginning of the extended version of The Fellowship of the Ring. A table of hobbits are sitting together enjoying each others company when one of them says, “There’s been some strange folk crossing the shire I heard. Dwarves and others of a less than savory nature. War is brewing. The mountains are fair teeming with Goblins.” One of the other hobbits not pleased with what was just said replies, “Far-off tales and childrens stories, that’s all that is. Your beginning to sound like that old Bilbo Baggins. Cracked, he was.” Then a negative comment is made about Frodo being cracked as well to which Frodo responds, “And proud of it!” And then the hobbit that originally called Bilbo cracked makes a very significant statement as it relates to the soon coming struggle of Middle-Earth. “Well its none of our concern what goes on beyond our borders. Keep your nose out of trouble and no trouble will come to you.”

That is in my mind one of the most significant statements in giving us insight into the people of the Shire. They are a peace-loving, comfort-enjoying people who care very little at all about the outside world. They enjoy their simple life and see no reason to be concerned with what happens in the land of the “big folk.” What they didn’t realize was that Trouble with a capital “T” was coming to them and the Shire and their happy culture would perish unless there was decisive intervention. What they failed to see was that they were in dire need of decisive rescue from the growing evil shadow of the East. The hobbits were completely ignorant of their impending doom and their desperate need for rescue.

Christianity is the only religion that recognizes our hobbit-like peril. Founders of other religions came primarily to teach. They came with a set of doctrines and an example to be followed. Though Jesus was a great teacher (the greatest teacher mankind has ever known) Paul makes no mention of this when he gives us this nutshell version of the Gospel in Galatians 1:4. What we see here is what is at the very heart of the Gospel, namely, that mankind was in desperate need of rescue. Jesus came to rescue first and then to be an example second.

The uniqueness of Christianity is that it comes to us and informs us of our absolutely helpless and perilous state. The Gospel does not first reveal Christ to us as a guide and example. No, it first reveals Christ as our Deliverer, our Rescuer, the one who came to rescue us from our sins. Christ came to earth and before most people knew what was really happening He had already accomplished the very thing needed for the deliverance of his hobbit-like people. He accomplished our redemption before we even knew we were perishing and unable to recover ourselves. This is Good News.

*First posted November 5, 2005

The following quotation describes Frodo's experience in the Elvish land of Lothlorien after Gandalf was lost in the Mines of Moria on the Bridge of Khazad-Dum. It not only illustrates the renewing power of the Gospel but also intensifies longings within me for the renewal of all creation (Romans 8:18-23).

The [other members of the fellowship] cast themselves down upon the fragrant grass, but Frodo stood awhile still lost in wonder. It seemed to him that he had stepped through a high window that looked on a vanished world. A light was upon it for which his language had no name. All that he saw was shapely, but the shapes seemed at once clear cut, as if they had been first conceived and drawn at the uncovering of his eyes, and ancient as if they had endured for ever. He saw no colour but those he knew, gold and white and blue and green, but they were fresh and poignant, as if he had at that moment first perceived them and made for them names new and wonderful. In winter here no heart could mourn for summer or for spring. No blemish or sickness or deformity could be seen in anything that grew upon the earth. On the land of Lorien there was no stain (The Fellowship of the Ring, 365).

Both Tolkien and Lewis have a way of writing that somehow evokes the eternal!

One of my favorite scenes in The Lord of the Rings trilogy (the book not the movie) takes place in the land of Rivendell after the hobbits, Frodo and Sam, almost lost their lives at the hands of those seeking to capture the ring of power and before they continued their dangerous journey to the fires of Mount Doom in order to destroy the ring. J.R.R. Tolkien writes:

Such was the virtue of the land of Rivendell that soon all fear and anxiety was lifted from their minds. The future, good or ill, was not forgotten, but ceased to have any power over the present. Health and hope grew strong in them, and they were content with each good day as it came, taking pleasure in every meal, and in every word and song (The Fellowship of the Ring, 287).

The good news of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ is of such a quality that the past, present, or imagined future, “good or ill, are not forgotten, but cease to have any power over the present.” We could write pages of application on this.� If you are prone to worry about the tomorrow, you need the gospel.� If you tend to fear people or circumstances, you need the gospel.� If you are paralyzed by regret or plagued by guilt, you need the gospel.� Only the gospel can free us from these things.

How else could we apply this? (that's an invitation to comment)

You may find this difficult to believe.� Read the article here.