Fear Not

Happy Hobbit-days! Merry Middle Earth-mas!

Honestly, I’m not sure what the appropriate holiday greeting should be. But I offer it nonetheless as we celebrate a momentous holiday today. For eight long years, I've sent letters to the North-most Pole of Hollywood. I've been especially good. I've picketed alongside the elves. I even sat on Peter Jackson’s lap and told the not-so-big-guy what I wanted for Christmas. And yet, MGM and Time Warner could not pull together a compromise to allow production of The Hobbit to move forward. But, at long last, my holiday wishes come true, and I plan to be in the theaters tonight at midnight.

There are three other times in my life when I've entered a cinema with as much giddiness and excitement as I feel right now. To understand my past feelings, you have to first understand my history with JRR Tolkien.

As a boy, I wanted to be as smart as my best friend Christopher. Christopher had just discovered a book called The Hobbit, a story full of wizards and magic, spiders and dragons, and goblins and good guys—those things that set my young imagination into overdrive. As he told me about what he was reading, I knew I had to get my hands on a copy of that book. To my surprise, I found a copy on the family bookshelf. To my further surprise, it was a fat book. And there were no pictures! The greatest surprise of all was that the words I started to read, given my 3^rd grade vocabulary, did not translate into the exciting tale that Christopher had thus far related to me.

Determined to not be shown up by my friend, I kept at it. I skipped over Tolkien’s songs and poetry. I skimmed the lengthy descriptive passages. Eventually, I was able to pull out enough of the story to become a fan of Tolkien’s fantastical world. As I grew older, I read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy many times, increasing in comprehension and appreciation of that incredible world with each additional reading.

I discovered the animated film adaptations of these stories, and those helped to further fuel my zeal for all things fantasy. At one point—when our play culminated in a jousting tournament in front of our house, complete with plastic baseball bat javelins and mounts that looked more like bicycles than noble steeds—my mother had to ban me from returning to the magical world of my imagination for a time. I have to admit that I learned an important lesson in physics that day. An object in motion—say, a bicycle—will tend to remain in motion, even if a javelin is jammed into the flanks—or spokes—of the rival horse. Despite the many times prior to that moment that my younger brother had unsuccessfully tried to complete a flip on the trampoline, he successfully completed one in his not-so-acrobatic dismount from his horse that day. Luckily, no stitches were needed!

Fast forward eight years. I was half a world away in a small, under heated apartment in a rundown part of a small city of southern Estonia. My companion and I were invited to come in out of the cold winter night. I think the goodly man was afraid to act too interested, for fear of being bombarded with a call to repentance, including threats of hell fire and damnation. So, to maintain a healthy buffer between himself and the Spirit, the man refused to comply when we politely asked him to turn off his television. We quickly realized that the noise of the TV was going to be louder than the still, small voice of the Spirit; and we gathered our things to leave, even though the relative warmth of that apartment seemed so much more desirable than the cold of the winter night.
 

And then it came on. As I saw it, I instantly recognized it for what it was. The hairy, half-sized, human-looking creatures clearly had to be Hobbits. The pointy hat and long wizard robes looked just like I’d imagined in my private world of fantasy. The elves were beautiful. The Orcs looked hideously perfect! Since that day my mom had ended our “street fencing,” I had read Tolkien’s books several times. I had watched the animated movies again and again. I had even heard rumors of a live-action adaptation of those stories on the silver screen. Now, as much as I enjoyed Willow, Dragon Heart, and some of the other early live-action fantasy films, I felt that Tolkien’s tales might be ruined for me if they were not done perfectly—if the costumes, the music, and the special effects did not capture the essence of my imagination’s version of Middle Earth. But I had not realized that these rumors had any truth, and this television movie trailer came as a complete shock to me on this cold night.

I was unable to tear my eyes away from the television, even though I was normally strict about avoiding such things as a missionary. My companion elbowed me as the ad ended, and we quickly made our exit. For the duration of my mission, I can proudly say that I did not think about The Lord of the Rings movie once as I again lost myself in the work. Returning home, I felt strong reservations about watching any movie—let alone the one that had captivated my attention so vividly for 30 seconds that night—for fear that reverting to the media and other pleasures of “Babylon” too quickly might be a sign that my mission had somehow been less meaningful to me.

Almost one month after coming home, I finally allowed my older brother to drag me down to the dollar theater to see this movie that, according to my brother, was the best movie he’d ever seen. “You might know it,” he said. “I think it’s called The Fellowship of the Ring.” When the credits came to an end, the music faded, and the lights came up, I wiped a tear from my eye and turned to my brother. “I don’t know what you have going on right now,” I said, “but I’m using this dollar to go buy another ticket.” I settled for stopping by Wal-Mart on the way home to buy a CD of the soundtrack, and I listened to that music around the clock until I had an opportunity to go see the movie again a few days later.

A little more than a year later, I truly was as giddy as a little child on Christmas morning when Christmas came a few weeks early and the third movie installment, The Return of the King, premiered. And, yes, I was there at the midnight premier showing, despite the fact that I had a final for one of my classes the following morning. But neither the satisfaction I felt after watching The Fellowship of the Ring the first time nor the anticipation that encompassed me prior to the midnight showing of The Return of the King came even close to the giddiness that I felt for weeks prior to the release of the middle movie, The Two Towers.

Why? The Two Towers contains an epic battle sequence that captured my imagination as a youth. Tens of thousands of Orcs surround a fortress that stands as the last defense of a vastly outnumbered good against an overwhelming evil. In my mind, that epic battle represented the war to end all wars, the ultimate contest between good and evil. And the teasing glimpses of this battle that the movie trailers provided did not disappoint. When I finally got to see the movie, the emotions I felt during that war of wars were even more powerful than I imagined possible. Let me tell you why.

As a missionary, in reading the Old Testament, I discovered a story about a nameless man, a “servant of the man of God.” In reality, I’m not sure what this servant looked like; but, to this day, I can imagine his pointy ears and features that are more elf-like than human. In this story, Saruman, the leader of the Orcs (Syria), conspires to lay a trap for Theoden, the king of the humans (Israel). With the counsel of Gandalf—or the man of God, the prophet named Elisha in the scriptures—Theoden is able to avoid the trap. Saruman is furious that his plans have been foiled. From his spies, he learns that the man of God, a seer, is able to see inside his private chambers and know of his secret plans—probably using a magical palantir. So he sends an enormous army to take and capture Gandalf in a place called Dothan, otherwise known as Helms Deep.

The “servant of the man of God”—we’ll name him Legolas—arises early in the morning. From here, the Old Testament brushed over some of the more important story elements. So I’ll exercise a little literary license as I continue. Legolas climbs up to the upper ramparts to look out over the valley below the fortress. Aragorn, the commander of the Israelite garrison stationed at Helms Deep, asks, “Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?”

Legolas senses that all is not right. “The stars are veiled. Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice…” His uneasiness grows. “The eye of the enemy is moving. He is HERE!” Suddenly the fog lifts and Legolas can see that a vast host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. 

Gimli, an especially short soldier who is unable to see over the wall, asks, “What’s happening out there?”

Legolas: "Shall I describe it to you?"

Gimli: "Hmm?"
Legolas: "Or would you like me to find you a box?"  

Humor aside, Legolas grows serious and, after surveying the small garrison that would stand against this adversary that was too vast to number, turns to Aragorn. “Look at them. They’re frightened. You can see it in their eyes.”

As the soldiers look in his direction, Legolas begins to speak in Elvish so as not to be understood. “And they should be. Three hundred… against ten thousand! Aragorn… they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!” 

Aragorn speaks in a loud voice that can be overheard by those in his command, “Then I shall die as one of them!” 

Gimli steels himself for the battle to come. “Never thought I’d die fighting side by side with an Elf.”

Legolas answers his companion, “What about side by side with a friend?”
Gimli grasps his ax. “Aye. I could do that.” 

Just then, the man of God comes upon the ramparts and Legolas’ courage begins to crumble. He turns to Gandalf his master in fear, “Alas, my master! How shall we do?”

Gandalf looked upon Legolas with compassion and said, “Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.” 

The Old Testament then clarifies that wizards sometimes pray rather than relying solely upon their magic. Elisha, also known as Gandalf, prays, “Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see.” 

Gandalf urges his servant to “look to the East.” In that moment, the eyes of the servant named Legolas are opened, and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.

From here, the Old Testament is more clear on the details of the Battle of Helms Deep—I mean Dothan—and I can take less literary license. Gandalf prays to the Lord requesting that the host of enemy Orcs be smitten with blindness. The confused and blinded Orcs are then led by Gandalf away from the fortress to Samaria, a stronghold defended mightily by King Theoden. Gandalf again prays, this time asking that the Orcs eyes are opened. The enemy army now realizes that it is surrounded and vastly outnumbered by Israel. Gandalf then urges Theoden to feed and provision his captives before sending them away to their own lands without bloodshed. The scriptures provide the following conclusion to this story, “So the bands of Syria came no more into the land of Israel.”

Now, my Tolkien-esk version of the story had a bit more fighting to it than the one told in the scriptures before Gandalf rides in from the East at first light of the fifth day with his heavenly host of angelic reinforcements made of fire. In fact, there’s enough fighting for Legolas and Gimli to have a friendly contest over who can kill more of the enemy. Legolas wins.

This isn't the only story from the scriptures that my imagination has been able to twist into something more suited to the fantasy bookshelves of the library. But as a story like is able to plays out in my imagination, and on the big screen, the spiritual significance deepens and the message is able to take root in my heart.

So what is Tolkien’s sermon to my heart in his epic retelling of the scriptural Battle of Dothan? It is a simple sermon, characterized by two words: Fear Not! We can find these two words together 87 times in the scriptures as good men and women like Paul, Mary, Daniel, Abraham, the servant of the man of God, and many others including you and I are counseled to not fear.

Now I have a young daughter who sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night after an especially vivid nightmare. As I scoop her up in my arms and hold her close, I tell her there’s nothing to be afraid of. I tell her to fear not. As a father, I've learned that it’s not enough to simply tell her to fear not. As a heavenly father, God has learned this as well. Each time that He tells one of His children to fear not, he provides additional comfort and reasons to not be afraid. Fear not, for ____ (fill in the blank).

Some examples? Fear not, for: 

God shall be with you forever and ever; with me thou shalt be in safeguard; I am thy shield and thy exceeding great reward;  [thy enemies] are in mine hands; if ye are built upon my rock, [thy enemies] cannot prevail; God will deliver… all those who stand fast in that liberty wherewith God hath made them free; thou has found favour with God; thy prayer is heard; it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom; in me your joy is full; the Lord will do great things; ye are of more value than many sparrows; I am the first and the last; I will help thee; I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine; it shall be well with you; I will do to thee all that thou requires; you are mine, and I have overcome the world, and you are of them that my Father hath given me; whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap; I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people; I am thy God and will still give thee aid, I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand; they that be with us are more than they that be with them.

How’s that for a scriptural security blanket? Doesn't that make you want to just curl up in your Heavenly Father’s arms for a while? If so, you simply need to open up your scriptures. Curling up in a warm blanket is optional.

I have to admit that much of my life is governed by fear. Gordon B. Hinckley would have the following to say to me regarding my fears:

Who among us can say that he or she has not felt fear? I know of no one who has been entirely spared... Some are able to rise above it quickly, but others are trapped and pulled down by it and even driven to defeat. We suffer from the fear of ridicule, the fear of failure, the fear of loneliness, the fear of ignorance. Some fear the present, some the future. Some carry the burden of sin and would give almost anything to unshackle themselves from those burdens but fear to change their lives. Let us recognize that fear comes not of God, but rather that this gnawing, destructive element comes from the adversary of truth and righteousness. Fear is the antithesis of faith. It is corrosive in its effects, even deadly. 

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” 

These principles are the great antidotes to the fears that rob us of our strength and sometimes knock us down to defeat. They give us power.

I like that. The attributes Paul described to Timothy of power, love, and a sound mind are the antidotes to our fears. John added emphasis to one of these antidotes in saying that perfect love casteth out all fear. From all of this, we learn that fear is the opposite of faith. So, simple faith in Jesus Christ and in our Father in Heaven is perhaps the greatest antidote of all.

There will be times when we feel trapped by our fears and pulled down by it, even to the point of defeat. Our Elven eyes may, like those of Legolas, spy an incredibly vast army of the adversary standing at our gates. What our Elven eyes are unable to see is what Elisha prayed for his servant to see. When we exercise perfect love, a sound mind, and faith in God and pray for a loftier vantage point from which to survey the scene of battle before us, then are our eyes opened. Then can we see spiritual evidence that they that be with us are more than they that be with them. But until our eyes are opened and we can see the heavenly host with our own eyes, we must place our trust in our Father—that He truly is with us and stands ready to help us in every way.

Very few of the armies we face in life can be confronted with sword, bow, or ax  But we are not left without instruments of war. We have Paul’s sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, to use as our only offensive weapon. And we have the whole armor of God wherewith to defend ourselves: the breastplate of righteousness; iron boots of the preparation of the gospel of peace; loin coverings of truth; the helmet of salvation; and, above all, the shield of faith. After equipping us from the armory, what is Paul’s pre-battle speech? Pray always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watch thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints. Peace be to the brethren, and love with faith, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace be with all them that love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Amen.

Aragorn, Tolkien's once and future king provides the following pre-battle speech that stirs my soul and moves me to draw my sword in defense of all that is good: "Hold your ground, hold your ground. Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down, but it is not this day. This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you 'stand, Men of the West!'"

These are the kind of words that awaken that boy inside of me who proudly brandished his Wiffle Ball bat  as he held his cardboard shield high. No fear was allowed to dwell in this young heart, as this child full of courage, faith, and hope for a bright and heroic future schemed to conquer the most fearsome of dragons, the most hideous of giants, and the most evil of sorcerers.

It is the worries of the world that wax heavy with age and turn a heart to fear and to a lack of confidence. But as we hear the call to battle and raise our banners alongside the titles of Aragorn, Paul, Moroni and countless other commanders in God's Army, in memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children, we may come forth in the strength of the Lord, knowing that we have good cause to fear not--for the Lord will fight our battles for us as we stand still and see the salvation of God.

When I go to the movies tonight, there may be some at the theater who literally suit up in armor and other Middle Earth paraphernalia in their excitement and giddiness for the long-awaited movie. My personal fandom only extends so far, and I will not be among them. I will, however, be wearing my spiritual armor as I venture out into the enemy’s domain tonight. No, I don’t believe that the movie theater or any other public facility is inherently evil. But the Lord has taught that our homes are temples, where we can control who and what comes in. Any time we leave the safety of our temples, we should suit up. Perhaps we would do well to leave our armor on, even when we are safely at home, given the outside influences that are seeking to find a way in through technology and the media.

So will you join me and suit up in the whole armor of God, knowing that God will fight our battles for us and be with us every step of the way? As we enlist in the army of God, we can overcome our fears. We can also be assured that we are on the winning side, because there is no question of which side will be triumphant in the last day.

Onward, Christian soldiers! Marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.
Christ, the royal Master, Leads against the foe;
Forward into battle, See his banners go!

At the sign of triumph, Satan’s host doth flee;
On, then, Christian soldiers, On to victory.
Hell’s foundations quiver at the shout of praise;
Brothers, lift your voices, Loud your anthems raise.

Like a mighty army moves the Church of God;
Brothers, we are treading where the Saints have trod.
We are not divided; All one body we:
One in hope and doctrine, One in charity.

Onward, then, ye people; Join our happy throng.
Blend with ours your voices in the triumph song:
Glory, laud, and honor unto Christ, the King.
This through countless ages men and angels sing:

Onward, Christian soldiers!
Marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus
Going on before.