The Catholic origins of The Lord of the Rings and other truths about J.R.R. Tolkien

The Lord of the Rings is of course a fundamentally religious and Catholic work,” J.R.R. Tolkien himself admitted. And although the new movie carrying his name highlighted the fact that Tolkien grew up in a Catholic environment and showed some of the experiences that would inspire his writings, it did not show how his deep Catholic faith served as one of the most essential inspirations in the creation of his most famous books. In fact, his writings are inundated with allusions to the Catholic faith.

The Denver Catholic spoke with Joseph Pearce, Director of Book Publishing at the Augustine Institute, editor of Faith & Culture and series editor of the Ignatius Critical Editions, about this matter. He has written several books on Tolkien, including a biography titled Tolkien: Man and Myth and Frodo’s Journey: Discover the Hidden Meaning of The Lord of the Rings.

“Tolkien is what I call a ‘cradle convert,’” Pearce said. “So, he’s not strictly speaking a cradle Catholic, but a convert, in the sense that he was received into the Church when he was 8 years old, following the reception of the Church of his mother… and he remained a practicing Catholic to his death.”

His mother died when he was only 14 years old after suffering persecution for becoming Catholic, something he always admired about her.

“In consequence of her conversion, the family was plunged into penury, and Tolkien, into his dying day, considered his mother a martyr for the faith,” Pearce said.

Since his father had died when he was four years old, a priest of the Birmingham Oratory became his legal guardian: Father Francis Morgan.

Thus, it is no surprise that his deep Catholic faith was enshrined in his works — yet not as a secondary trait, but in such an essential way that it made his greatest book, The Lord of the Rings, “a fundamentally religious and

Catholic work.”

Here are a few examples Pearce highlighted that illustrate how Tolkien’s Catholicity was the leading factor of the story of Middle Earth.

Photos courtesy of Fox Searchlight

The ring’s destruction and the crucifixion

Tolkien gives the game away allegorically when he has the ring destroyed on March 25. For Catholics, this day marks the solemnity of the Annunciation or the Incarnation. But also, traditionally, the Church has believed that the historical date of the crucifixion itself was March 25. Tolkien, who was a Medievalist, certainly knew that.

By connecting the destruction of the ring with the destruction of sin, we can see that the ring can be seen as synonymous with sin, and therefore, the power of the ring is the power of sin. Also, the necessity of bearing the consequence of sin sacrificially is the very heart of the story.

The three Christ figures

Frodo is a Christ figure as the ring-bearer. If the ring is seen as synonymous with sin, the bearing of the ring is like the carrying of the sin. Christ bore the burden of sin by carrying the Cross. In other words, Frodo is a Christ figure by carrying the burden of sin as Christ carried the Cross.

Gandalf is a Christ figure in his death, resurrection and transfiguration. The wizard lays down his life for his friends at the Bridge of Khazad-dûm and is later resurrected as Gandalf the White. His transfiguration is evidenced in the part where his friends first see him in his resurrected form, but his garments are so white and dazzling that his friends are forced to cover their eyes and Gandalf is forced to wear a gray cloak over the white.

Aragorn is the third major Christ figure because he is the true king. As true king, he has the power to descend into the land of the dead and to have power over the dead themselves — to release the dead from their curse. Of course, this reminds us of Christ’s descent into hell after his crucifixion to liberate the souls of the dead.

Every-man figures

Tolkien said that fairy stories and all good stories hold up a mirror to man — they show us ourselves.

Boromir, for instance, who is the only human representative in the Fellowship of the Ring, shows the fact that we are susceptible to trying to use the power of evil supposedly for good. As Boromir learns, evil means can’t be used to a good end — it’s impossible to use the power of the ring to defeat the power of the ring.

Faramir, his brother, is the one who says that he would not pick up the ring if he saw it lying on the side of the road, and that he would not snare even an Orc with a force hood. In other words, he would not tell the smallest lie to the devil himself. Faramir shows the alternate to Boromir, that we’re called to sanctity, to perfection, to be Christ-like and to treat evil with contempt.

Gollum shows us what happens if we allow ourselves to be possessed by the power of evil. Instead of the “good Hobbit” we are meant to be, Gollum shows us the corrupted version. The ring makes him an addict to the power of sin, selfishness and pride. He’s no longer able to give himself sacrificially to others because he’s too self-obsessed.

Lembas bread and the Eucharist

Tolkien gives a linguistic clue to how the Lembas bread is a figure of the Eucharist. In one of the Elvish languages, Lembas means “Way Bread.” This reminds of the Viaticum, the Blessed Sacrament taken to the sick, which basically means “for the way.” In the other Elvish language, Lembas means “Life Bread” or “Bread of Life.” The book also mentions that this bread feeds the will more than it feeds the body.

Pearce speculates in his book Frodo’s Journey that Tolkien, being a practicing Catholic, would have heard about the many Eucharistic miracles that were happening around the time he was writing the book. Hearing about how someone could live on the Blessed Sacrament alone could have motivated him to write that Frodo and Sam lived on nothing but Lembas bread as they were walking through Mordor.

If there is still any doubt about Tolkien’s deep Catholic faith, here is just one example of his personal letters, this one written to one of his sons:

“Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament… There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves on earth…”

COMING UP: Five Hispanic-American saints perhaps you didn’t know

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The American continent has had its share of saints in the last five centuries. People will find St. Juan Diego, St. Rose of Lima or St. Martin de Porres among the saints who enjoy greater popular devotion. Yet September, named Hispanic Heritage Month, invites a deeper reflection on the lives of lesser-known saints who have deeply impacted different Latin-American countries through their Catholic faith and work, and whose example has the power to impact people anywhere around the world. Here are just a few perhaps you didn’t know.

St. Toribio de Mogrovejo
1538-1606
Peru

Born in Valladolid, Spain, Toribio was a pious young man and an outstanding law student. As a professor, his great reputation reached the ears of King Philip II, who eventually nominated him for the vacant Archdiocese of Lima, Peru, even though Toribio was not even a priest. The Pope accepted the king’s request despite the future saint’s protests. So, before the formal announcement, he was ordained a priest, and a few months later, a bishop. He walked across his archdiocese evangelizing the natives and is said to have baptized nearly half a million people, including St. Rose of Lima and St. Martin de Porres. He learned the local dialects, produced a trilingual catechism, fought for the rights of the natives, and made evangelization a major theme of his episcopacy. Moreover, he worked devotedly for an archdiocesan reform after realizing that diocesan priests were involved in impurities and scandals. He predicted the date and hour of his death and is buried in the cathedral of Lima, Peru.

St. Mariana of Jesus Paredes
1618-1645
Ecuador

St. Mariana was born in Quito, modern-day Ecuador, and not only became the country’s first saint, but was also declared a national heroine by the Republic of Ecuador. As a little girl, Mariana showed a profound love for God and practiced long hours of prayer and mortification. She tried joining a religious order on two occasions, but various circumstances would not permit it. This led Mariana to realize that God was calling her to holiness in the world. She built a room next to her sister’s house and devoted herself to prayer and penance, living miraculously only off the Eucharist. She was known to possess the gifts of counsel and prophecy. In 1645, earthquakes and epidemics broke out in Quito, and she offered her life and sufferings for their end. They stopped after she made her offering. On the day of her death, a lily is said to have bloomed from the blood that was drawn out and poured in a flowerpot, earning her the title of “The Lily of Quito.”

St. Theresa of Los Andes
1900-1920
Chile

St. Theresa of Jesus of Los Andes was Chile’s first saint and the first Discalced Carmelite to be canonized outside of Europe. Born as Juana, the future saint was known to struggle with her temperament as a child. She was proud, selfish and stubborn. She became deeply attracted to God at the age six, and her extraordinary intelligence allowed her to understand the seriousness of receiving First Communion. Juana changed her life and became a completely different person by the age of 10, practicing mortification and deep prayer. At age 14, she decided to become a Discalced Carmelite and received the name of Theresa of Jesus. Deeply in love with Christ, the young and humble religious told her confessor that Jesus told her she would die soon, something she accepted with joy and faith. Shortly thereafter, Theresa contracted typhus and died at the age of 19. Although she was 6 months short of finishing her novitiate, she was able to profess vows “in danger of death.” Around 100,000 pilgrims visit her shrine in Los Andes annually.

St. Laura Montoya
1874-1949
Colombia

After Laura’s father died in war when she was only a child, she was forced to live with different family members in a state of poverty. This reality kept her from receiving formal education during her childhood. What no one expected is that one day she would become Colombia’s first saint. Her aunt enrolled her in a school at the age of 16, so she would become a teacher and make a living for herself. She learned quickly and became a great writer, educator and leader. She was a pious woman and wished to devote herself to the evangelization of the natives. As she prepared to write Pope Pius X for help, she received the pope’s new Encyclical Lacrymabili Statu, on the deplorable condition of Indians in America. Laura saw it as a confirmation from God and founded the Missionaries of the Immaculate Heart and St. Catherine of Siena, working for the evangelization of natives and fighting or their behalf to be seen as children of God.

St. Manuel Morales
1898-1926
Mexico

Manuel was a layman and one of many martyrs from Mexico’s Cristero War in the 1920s. He joined the seminary as a teen but had to abandon this dream in order to support his family financially. He became a baker, married and had three children. This change, however, did not prevent him from bearing witness to the faith publicly. He became the president of the National League for the Defense of Religious Liberty, which was being threatened by the administration of President Plutarco Elías Calles. Morales and two other leaders from the organization were taken prisoners as they discussed how to free a friend priest from imprisonment through legal means. They were beaten, tortured and then killed for not renouncing to their faith. Before the firing squad, the priest begged the soldiers to forgive Morales because he had a family. Morales responded, “I am dying for God, and God will take care of my children.” His last words were, “Long live Christ the King and Our Lady of Guadalupe!”