18

Beyond the Veil

What comes to mind when you see the phrase “happily ever after”? These words at the end of many stories we call fairy tales elicit different reactions from different people. Some find this a charming way to end a story; others find it enjoyable in a childish sort of way; others think it cheesy, in poor taste.

Tolkien leaned very much toward the “charming” perspective. He held that a happy ending was vital to the success of any fairy story. Fortunately, his ideals for such an ending left no room for anything tacky or trite.

He was so adamant about the value of a specific happy-ending type that to describe it he invented a word: eucatastrophe, a word he defines here, taken from the essay “On Fairy-Stories” (referenced in Part 1) as:

the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn” . . .[1]

Tolkien believed the best stories contain a moment that catches readers off guard and allows them to be impacted, moved, even changed through the story’s power.

In The Hobbit, the eucatastrophe begins at the end of chapter 17 when Bilbo cries out, “The Eagles! The Eagles! The Eagles are coming!”[2] The “sudden turn” continues through the beginning of chapter 18, where we learn more details about the eagles’ attack on the goblins and Beorn’s unforeseen arrival and massive contribution to the goblins’ defeat.

Yet even those happy moments are balanced by a touch of sadness—a poignant moment that does indeed carry the potential to inspire tears.

A Parting

The Bible has a lot to say about death. More, it has a lot to say about specific people who died—even providing a narrative glimpse into the final moments of several individuals.

For example, after a long and fulfilling life, “Then Abraham breathed his last and died at a good old age, an old man and full of years; and he was gathered to his people” (Genesis 25:8).

Stephen, one of the leaders of the early church, departed this life in a way that was far less peaceful but ultimately glorious:

While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep.

Acts 7:59–60

Not surprisingly, death plays an important role in Tolkien’s mythology. Certain characters wrestle with it in all his major works. Many are grievously wounded, and while some recover or are rescued, others perish.

In The Hobbit, Thorin Oakenshield and Fili and Kili experience death’s sting.

While Fili and Kili perish in defense of their king during the heat of the battle, Thorin survives to the following morning. This enables him to have a final—and poignant—conversation with Bilbo.

We learn early in chapter 18 that Thorin has specifically summoned Bilbo. More, when the hobbit arrives at the tent, Thorin greets him with the words, “Farewell, good thief.”[3] Given what happened with the Arkenstone, not to mention their last encounter, these are unexpected words indeed.

So we wonder what’s changed his attitude so quickly and completely.

GODLY SORROW

But we don’t have to wonder long. After explaining that he is about to die, Thorin makes two indelibly encouraging statements to Bilbo.

First, the dwarf notes that he’s leaving behind all gold and silver in order to go where such things are of little worth. His words are a direct parallel to the words of Jesus in Matthew 6:19–20:

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.

We feel great relief when Thorin speaks these words that confirm his madness has ended. The prospect of imminent death has freed him from lust for wealth and gives him leave to finish out his last moments in relative peace.

Thorin’s second statement is that he seeks a renewed friendship with Bilbo. The king offers to take back his earlier maltreatment of the hobbit—he repents of his recent deeds. He admits he was wrong and asks Bilbo’s forgiveness.

Repentance is a primary biblical theme and a major part of spiritual growth for Christians. Those who follow Christ must first admit the error and futility of their old way of life—they must turn away from past attitudes and behaviors to accept God’s offer of salvation and friendship.

Solomon learned the value of repentance from God himself:

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

2 Chronicles 7:14

The New Testament writers repeatedly emphasized repentance to the early church. For example, Paul rejoiced that his stern words had produced repentance among the believers in Corinth:

I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.

2 Corinthians 7:9–10

All this is important because it speaks to Thorin’s chance to “finish well” despite pitfalls throughout his journey. We’ve watched him make a number of wrong turns lately—poor decisions, unquestionably, and foolish priorities, demonstrably—with disastrous consequences both for him and his people.

But it’s a joyful thing that Thorin regains himself before his story ends. He turns away from those choices—he repents—and in doing so, he finds peace when it matters most. Further, he is able to speak openly, even eagerly, about joining his fathers in the “halls of waiting,”[4] and about the world being renewed. He has made peace with his Creator.

GODLY FORGIVENESS

There’s an intriguing exchange at the beginning of chapter 18. It’s quick, but it shows why Bilbo is such a good, wise, humble, and likeable character.

Bilbo had been knocked unconscious just before the eagles’ arrival, and he remained that way overnight. When he wakes in the morning, he is alone and uncertain of the battle’s outcome until he notices a few dwarves working at the gate of the mountain. Bilbo calls out when he sees a man approaching; the man obviously can’t see the hobbit because of the ring. He asks, “What voice is it that speaks among the stones?”

The answer astonishes: “It’s me, Bilbo Baggins, companion of Thorin.”[5]

Companion of Thorin? Only two days before, the King under the Mountain had been cruel to him and expelled him from the company—he’d even picked him up and threatened to murder him viciously.

And yet, already, in his heart, Bilbo has forgiven Thorin. More, he still speaks of Thorin as a friend. Remember, this is before Bilbo knows Thorin is still alive, let alone that the dwarf has repented of those deeds. In this way, the hobbit reflects these instructions from Paul:

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Ephesians 4:31–32 ESV

Tenderhearted is an excellent description for Bilbo Baggins. When Thorin passes, the hobbit goes off by himself and weeps until his eyes become red and his voice becomes hoarse. Bilbo’s forgiveness is so complete that he deeply feels the pain and loss of Thorin’s death. He mourns his friend.

Eternity in Middle-Earth

Ecclesiastes 3:11 states that God “has put eternity into man’s heart” (ESV). Tolkien agreed with this sentiment—although if he had included those words in some text within Middle-earth, he likely would have added, “and a dwarf’s heart, and an elf’s heart,” and so on.

One of the more startling aspects of death’s role in Tolkien’s mythology is that death is never viewed as the end. Rather, the citizens of Middle-earth possess an understanding—even an expectation—of eternity.

Some people groups within this world—specifically elves, dwarves, and men—have a more defined understanding of what happens after death. So let’s spend a few moments exploring the eschatology of Middle-earth.

ETERNITY FOR THE ELVES

We know more about life after death for the elves than any other inhabitants of Middle-earth—which is a bit ironic, since elves are immortal.

In Tolkien’s realm, elves are connected to the world at a deep and powerful level. Like the Valar and Maiar, they endure as long as the world endures, and their spirits cannot depart from the world until it is broken and made new at the end of days.

Elves can be killed, though, which occurs several times in his major stories—including chapter 17 of The Hobbit. More accurately, their bodies can be cut down and separated from their spirits (or souls). When that happens, their spirits return to Valinor and dwell in the halls of Mandos. (Mandos, one of the Valar, is keeper of the halls of the dead.)

Elves whose spirits arrive in the halls of Mandos remain there for a long time in a kind of purgatory, contemplating their lives and awaiting the world to be remade (another connection with Tolkien’s Catholicism). Some later notes compiled by Christopher Tolkien—most notably a book called Morgoth’s Ring—suggest that elves can regain their bodies after a period of waiting, but that is not spelled out specifically in any major Tolkien work.

ETERNITY FOR THE DWARVES

The dwarves of Tolkien’s world are not immortal—they grow old and die as part of their nature, although they do live longer than men.

None of Tolkien’s main stories includes a definitive plan for their life after death—if they do experience an afterlife. Indeed, according to The Silmarillion, many of the elves believe that dwarves return to the earth and stone from which they were made.

The dwarves themselves believe something quite different:

They say that Aulë the Maker, whom they call Mahal, cares for them, and gathers them to Mandos in halls set apart; and that he declared to their Fathers of old that Ilúvatar will hallow them and give them a place among the Children in the End. Then their part shall be to serve Aulë and to aid him in the remaking of Arda after the Last Battle.[6]

In The Hobbit, Thorin confirms this belief when he tells Bilbo, “I go now to the halls of waiting to sit beside my fathers, until the world is renewed.”[7]

ETERNITY FOR MEN

Human beings are different from elves and dwarves in that their spirits (or souls) are unconnected from the world. When men and women die, their spirits depart and go somewhere else.

This departure is a mystery for the other inhabitants of Middle-earth—not even the Valar know or understand what happens to human souls after death. And for the elves, who often weary of the world after thousands and thousands of years, the fate of men sometimes seems like a blessing.

Indeed, that’s what Ilúvatar originally intended when he created the “second born.” For human beings, death was a gift—a chance to escape weariness of the world and move on to something new. More important, it’s a chance to join the Creator far sooner than elves and other immortal beings.

In that way, Tolkien’s world reflects our own.

The Bible reveals that humans were designed to be immortal—we were created to spend eternity in fellowship with God. Because of our sin, the world around us became a place of pain and doubt and death. More, we also changed—we became enmeshed in sinful desires and greed and violence.

God knew it would be torture for His children to live forever in a fallen, corrupted, pain-filled world. And so death offers us an escape—a chance to leave our broken bodies in a broken world and ultimately be reunited with God for eternity as He originally planned.

Viewed properly, then, death is a gift for us, just like it was a gift for the people of Tolkien’s world. That’s what allowed Paul to write things like this:

To me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.

Philippians 1:21–24

Of course, plenty of people in our world see death as a curse rather than as a blessing. And the same is true within Tolkien’s mythology.

For instance, the Númenórians were the mightiest and noblest race of men ever to set foot in Middle-earth. Because of their faithfulness to Ilúvatar and the Valar, they were blessed with exceptionally long lives—even up to five hundred years or more at their peak. As a result, the men of Númenor became wise, wealthy, and powerful.

Unfortunately, the more success and enjoyment they experienced in the physical world, the more hesitant they were to leave it. Over time, they became obsessed with death. Eventually they became terrified of it, and they sought any means to prevent or escape their parting from the world.

The Silmarillion records an illuminating confrontation between the men of Númenor and the heralds of the Valar. The Númenórians wanted to live in Valinor—the undying land—so they could possess eternal life like the elves. One of their arguments has to do with the necessity of faith, as they cannot be sure of what lies after death. Tolkien’s brilliant technique here uses the Númenórians to highlight the two major obstacles that prevent men and women in our world from coming to peace with death’s reality and looking forward to blessed eternity with God.

The first obstacle is that arriving at such a peace requires faith. Hebrews 11:1 proclaims that “faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” And that’s the rub—even though we have been promised salvation and eternal life through God’s Word, we have a hard time believing it without some kind of external evidence. We lack faith.

The second obstacle: “We also love the Earth and would not lose it.”

The Bible, especially the New Testament, shows notable separation between “the kingdom of God” and “the world.” God’s kingdom encompasses everything that works to accomplish His will. Everything else—all the temptations and desires and evil forces at work against His will—is referred to as “the world” or “the flesh.” The two realms are mutually exclusive.

John highlighted this separation in one of his letters:

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.

1 John 2:15–17

Many people say they have faith—that they believe in heaven and want to go there—but in the deep recesses of their hearts, they place a higher value on the world’s comforts and pleasures. They don’t want to leave.

That was a major obstacle for the Númenórians, and Tolkien brilliantly used that fictional culture to reveal our own misplaced values and priorities.