Moments of Grace

The Measure of Love by Anne Marie Gazzolo

. . . J. R. R. Tolkien gives reality a ‘new twist’ by writing in the form of myth. . . . It becomes a world in which faith without faith becomes faith, hope without hope becomes hope, and myth becomes more real than reality. The catalyst for this freeplay of words and meanings, the element that allows things to turn around and reverse themselves is love. Love . . . allows myth to invade the reality of this world and become fact. In Tolkien’s work, love motivates faith to reach beyond the boundaries of the known, to rekindle hope in the midst of the uncertain. Love turns death into a gift and transforms defeat into victory. This force of love permeates The Lord of the Rings . . . (Greenwood 171)

Frodo and Sam’s journey to Mount Doom is a trial of such love. The light of that love illumines much of the tale which is the heart of that portion of the Red Book. It is a very spiritual, sustaining, nurturing, self-donating, heroically sacrificial love. It does not take; it only gives. It is not selfish; it is selfless. It is agape love, the highest and purest form of love, entirely focused and poured out on the beloved. It is God’s love. It is what gives Frodo the strength to continue to offer himself up as a living sacrifice for all of Middle-earth even as his suffering increases and his burden grows harder to bear, threatening to utterly consume him. It is what gives Sam the strength to carry his beloved master, not only physically but emotionally and spiritually, to be Hope-bearer for the Ring-bearer.

The best prism to see Sam’s love for his master is through the words of a woman I once knew who was not even familiar with the story, but had been told by friends about it, who stated, “It’s the purest kind of love. From soul to soul.” She echoed, all unknowingly, Ralph C. Wood’s beautiful words: “Their mutual regard is . . . akin to the friendship of Jonathan and David: ‘the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul’ (1 Sam 18:1)” (Gospel 136). It is no coincidence that Sam is born the same year Frodo’s parents drowned for there is never a time when Frodo is not watched over by his Creator, Who takes away two guardians, but replaces them with another to be ready when the time comes. Sam always sees Frodo’s bright, shining soul, having loved it since childhood, and it is that soul that he tends to and nurtures in all he does. Sam is created to love it because without that love, Frodo cannot do what he is conceived to do. “The measure of love is to love without measure,” said St. Francis de Sales (also attributed to St. Augustine). Frodo and Sam, as do many others in the tale, both show that depth of commitment, the former for all of Middle-earth, making “[l]ove . . . the dominant emotion in The Lord of the Rings . . . ” (Bradley 76) and the “peculiar excellence” of hobbits (Zimbardo 70). Jane Chance adds, “. . . love binding one individual to another, cements together the ‘fellowship’ of the Hobbits in book 1 and later, in book 2, the differing species who form the enlarged Fellowship. The ‘chain of love’ such fellowship creates contrasts with the chains of enslavement represented by Sauron’s one Ring” (Art 150).

Martin Luther King. Jr. said “ . . . everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. . . .You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love.” Even though such words were not said in regard to hobbits, they certainly apply to Frodo and Sam. It is among the most humble that Ilúvatar chooses His Ring-bearer: a small, mortal vessel with a quaking heart, but with a strong will and determination who allows himself to be offered up “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” (Tolkien, Letters 327).

When Frodo resolves to leave the Company at Parth Galen and strike out for Mordor alone, Sam refuses to be left behind. He would rather die at his master’s side than live without him. After Frodo says he would be safely on his way if Sam hadn’t come, the gardener is scandalized and horrified Frodo would ever think such a thing even possible without his Sam looking after him. Frodo acknowledges that impossibility when he says, “It is plain that we were meant to go together” (LotR II:10, 397). It is through Sam and their friendship, which Wood calls “a thing of exquisite beauty, even holiness” (Gospel 135), that Frodo’s education in love, loyalty, endurance, perseverance, faith, goodness and hope primarily comes. Fr. Kenneth Baker, S.J. says, “Friendship is the highest expression of human love. . . . There is no greater happiness in this life than basking in the love of a friend” (“Friend” 80). Though the priest is not speaking of hobbits, the Ring-bearer discovers the truth of such words as the Quest shows him that “[a] faithful friend is a sure shelter, whoever finds one has found a rare treasure” (Ecclesiasticus/Sirach 6:14). Indeed even though Frodo has more than one such friend, he makes sure the enduring love and heroism of Sam, his “dearest hobbit, friend of friends . . . ” (LotR IV:2, 610) receives pride of place in the reverent tribute which makes up his part of the Red Book.

After Frodo tells Sam in the Dead Marshes that they need not worry about food for the return journey since there would not be one, Sam cries over his master’s held hand. His tears are also in Shelob’s Lair and the Tower of Cirith Ungol. These times are well reflected in Washington Irving’s words: “There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief . . . and unspeakable love.” The same could be said of Sam’s other silent expressions: the kisses to Frodo’s brow and hand and the hand and body he holds while his master sleeps.

One of the most beautiful professions of love is the one Sam makes as he watches his master sleep in Ithilien and sees Frodo’s inner light: “He was reminded suddenly of Frodo . . . asleep in the house of Elrond, . . . a light seemed to be shining faintly within; but now the light was even clearer and stronger. . . . Sam . . . murmured: ‘I love him. He’s like that, and sometimes it shines through, somehow. But I love him, whether or no’” (IV:4, 638).

This light shines all the brighter as Frodo fights through his hunger, thirst, exhaustion and terror to fulfill his vocation. He accepts that he has been specifically chosen for the Quest, but even more than his own will to continue, it is Sam who motivates him to keep going when his own hope is gone, crushed under the weight of despair that comes from carrying the Ring. Sam thinks the task itself is hopeless, but he pushes through his own suffering because he has hope and faith in Frodo. All these decades Ilúvatar has been knitting their souls together so that they would be inseparable for this one task. They’d much rather be back home in the sun-filled, idyllic Shire, yet they walk, stagger and crawl to the heart of evil and darkness instead. “It is the heroism of obedience and love not of pride or wilfulness that is the most heroic and the most moving . . .” Tolkien wrote in “The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm’s Son” (Reader 22). Sam voluntarily endures torment and terror “only for the sake of one he loves beyond everything else” (Bradley 90). Frodo endures it for all Middle-earth. “And in the last analysis,” Richard Purtill observes, “their self-sacrificing love rises to such heights as to be comparable to the greatest love the world has known” (Myth 77).

The words Mayor Rudolph Guilani used to describe the firefighters of New York fit also Frodo and Sam and all those who fought in the War of the Ring:

There are some people who believe . . . courage represents the absence of fear. We know that is not true. Firefighters are in most ways ordinary people, but they are capable of extraordinary heroism because they do not let fear determine their actions. Their courage is found in letting their love for human life, their sense of duty and obligation to their fellow human beings, cause them to rise above their own immediate concerns. In doing so, they set an example for all of us. They remind us what each of us can become - selfless, courageous, and heroic at the moment when the pressure is greatest. They show us what we all are capable of in the most difficult and dramatic moments of our lives, as well as in the smaller moments all along the way. (Brotherhood xvi)

Sam demonstrates in many convincing ways that “fear is driven out by perfect love . . .” (1 Jn 4:18). He cannot swim but he does not hesitate to dash into the water when his master starts to leave without him. He does not like heights or climbing, but crosses the rope bridge over the River Celebrant, uses the Elven rope in the Emyn Muil, and climbs the Stairs of Cirith Ungol. When he fights Shelob, “[n]o onslaught more fierce was ever seen in the savage world of beasts, where some desperate small creature armed with little teeth, alone, will spring upon a tower of horn and hide that stands above its fallen mate” (LotR IV:10, 711).

Another beautiful profession of love comes soon after that as Sam faces the desolation of Frodo’s apparent death. He is like a human Greyfriars Bobby, the faithful Scottish dog who remained at his master’s grave until his own death.

‘Good-bye, master, my dear! . . . Forgive your Sam. He’ll come back to this spot when the job’s done - if he manages it. And then he’ll not leave you again. Rest you quiet till I come; and may no foul creature come anigh you! And if the Lady could hear me and give me one wish, I would wish to come back and find you again.’ (IV:10, 716)

When to his astonishment Sam learns his master is not dead after all, his love again overcomes his fear as he mounts a rescue mission. He cries out, “I’m coming Mr. Frodo!” (VI:1, 879) despite his terror of being discovered by Orcs. Later he sings to Frodo as he searches the dread Tower of Cirith Ungol so his master would know he is not alone in that terrible place. “Tolkien implies that love is an important aspect of heroism, as we see in the way Sam is inspired by his love for Frodo. It is not that Sam’s attention to Frodo supersedes his commitment to the Ring-quest; rather, Sam implicitly understands that love and loyalty are essential to the success of the quest itself” (Gardner et al 228). Everyone else is concerned with saving Middle-earth as a whole, but Sam is solely concerned with one person, and because he is so focused, he helps save everyone just because he so loves one. Sam is himself saved by that love when he is confronted with the temptation of the Ring: “In that hour of trial it was the love of his master that helped most to hold him firm . . .” (LotR VI:1, 881).

The tender reunion of the two hobbits in the Tower is the most beautiful scene in the entire tale. There is nothing erotic or sexual about it; quite the opposite for it shows the purity and innocence of their love so well. “Under the most adverse and improbable circumstances, surrounded by the hideous evidence of senseless slaughter, Frodo and Sam share a moment’s happiness and release from the burdens of the Quest” (Klinger 193). When Frodo lies “back in Sam’s gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand” (LotR VI:1, 889), “the Ring’s influence is - almost miraculously - suspended or eclipsed . . .” (Klinger 193). This loving reunion has overcome despair, seemingly irrevocable loss and impossible odds, leaving Sam feeling “he could sit like that in endless happiness” (LotR VI:1, 889), but their task is still ahead. He rouses his master, best friend, brother and child, with a kiss to the brow and a cheerful voice and “gently takes on himself the task of bringing Frodo to the end of his Quest” (Bradley 87).

Sam continues to love even as his heart breaks when his treasure accuses him of being a thief. “Love is not blind,” Rabbi Julius Gordon said. “It sees more, not less but because it sees more, it is willing to see less.” The words of Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen who spoke of how Jesus viewed sinners aptly describes how Sam views Frodo, as the Ring-bearer is twisted by his terrible burden: “He saw that a jewel had fallen into the mud and though encrusted with foulness that it was still a jewel” (Guide 155).

Sam’s care becomes the love of a parent who loves his child even when that child sometimes does unlovable things, but is not loved any less because of it; who forgives automatically and without thought: though the act is bad, the child is not. Sam is already practicing what St. Paul later speaks of: “Bear with one another charitably, in complete selflessness, gentleness and patience” (Eph 4:2). “Love . . . is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes. Love does not come to an end” (1 Cor 13:6-8). The words of Washington Irving also fit well here: “A mother’s love endures through all . . . She remembers the . . . innocent eyes of her child so can never be brought to think him all unworthy. A mother’s love ever lives, ever forgives and while it lives, it stands with open arms and gives and gives, the strongest thing in the universe, never failing, enduring forever, always hoping . . . ”

From [the Tower onward, Frodo] places himself unreservedly and passively in Sam’s hands, allowing Sam to clothe him, to deal out their food, to choose their road. As his will and endurance are sapped by the destructive, tormenting power of the Ring he speaks of himself as ‘naked in the dark’ (III, 215) while every thought and movement of Sam’s reaches an almost religious devotion and tenderness toward easing Frodo’s path, even though he cannot share his torment or even his burden. (Bradley 88)

Through his loving care, Sam “epitomizes the ideal of servanthood, which, in Christian terms, is the epitome of heroism” (Hein 207). Such words apply equally well to Frodo, for he does the same thing for all Middle-earth as Sam does for him, in his service to the One he is not even truly aware of, but Who holds his heart and soul together even as they are torn apart by the terrible malice of the Ring. Wood adds, “To be a servant is to be liberated from self-concern. It is to be so fully devoted to the common good that one hardly thinks of one’s own wants and needs at all” (Gospel 163).

Love - that much misused and misinterpreted word - for them [medieval mystics] meant simply an overflowing of the strength with which they felt themselves filled when living in true self-oblivion. And this love found natural expression in an unhesitant fulfillment of duty and an unreserved acceptance of life, whether it brought them personally of toil, suffering - or happiness. (Hammarskjöld viii)

Sam is constantly renunciating his own desires and needs and putting his master’s first. In contrast to Sauron who is rightly depicted as the Eye for the ‘I’ is all he sees, there is no ‘I’ in Sam; there is only ‘you’. The Dark Lord will “eat all the world” (LotR II:3, 623) if he gets the Ring back, but Frodo’s humble gardener is like to a starving mother who feeds her dying child instead of herself or a mother bird who pecks at her own breast to feed her chicks her own blood if she has nothing else to give. But the nourishment Sam provides his master is much more than just food and drink. Ilúvatar places Sam at Frodo’s side as a reflection of Himself, so that every time Frodo looks at Sam, he sees love. The Ring-bearer needs that even more than he needs food and water, as he is being consumed by the hatred of the Ring. Sam gives his master his cloak for a pillow, his arms for a bed, his hand to clasp. Sam is strength to Frodo’s weakness, peace to his turbulence, hope to his despair, warmth to his coldness, sweetness to his bitterness, a “light . . . in dark places”(II:8, 367) far more than Galadriel’s phial. Indeed, the two hobbits are living phials for each other. Ilúvatar is also always with Frodo even when Sam cannot be, sustaining both hobbits through His grace and the Eucharistic lembas bread.

“Prayer is being with God or another person” says N. Duncan Sinclair (104). Though he is not speaking of hobbits, this is proven when Frodo feels compelled to put the Ring on while near the Fire and whispers to his guardian for help. Sam gently takes his hands in his, places the palms together as though in prayer, and kisses them, breaking the compulsion that seemed irresistible a moment before. “Sam redeems Frodo in a spiritual sense” at that moment (Gardner et al. 231).

The entire terrible journey from Bag End to the Sammath Naur shows “[a]t the heart of Tolkien’s work, [as] Provost suggests, is a clear religious theme of struggle between power and love . . . ” (Agan 45). Frodo’s will is not always strong enough to withstand the lure of the Ring on his own, but it is strengthened by the grace-filled presence of others, especially Sam and Elbereth. Only by renouncing power and embracing love is the destruction of the Ring made possible. Even though the final moments of the Ring’s existence was spent in lust for it, only love gets Frodo and Sam to the Fire where it can be destroyed.

In the end, Frodo’s will is overcome, yet he still fulfills his vocation as Ring-bearer. It takes every single drop of his will, strength and love to do it, and in so doing, he enables Sam to fulfill his vocation as well. When Frodo has nothing left to give, it leaves him open to receive mercy from Love itself. He is given a reward then, as well as later, commensurate with his complete donation of heart, body, mind and soul.

After the hobbits return to the Shire, Sam “longs to stay with Frodo forever” (Bradley 90), but he also wants to be with Rosie. Frodo is able to grant both wishes, leastways for a little while. Sam receives his reward in the long, happy and very fruitful life he has with his beloved wife. It is hoped that another blessing for both Frodo and Sam is reunion across the Sundering Seas where, in keeping with the ending Bilbo said he wanted for his book, they “settled down and lived together happily ever after” (LotR II:3, 266). In any case, at the end of their mortal lives, one knows Sam is able to have his “one wish” spoken so long before in the desolation of Shelob’s Lair come true, reunited with both sides of his heart forever.

 

Works Cited

Agan, Cami. “Song as Mythic Conduit in The Fellowship of the Ring.Mythlore 26.3-4 (2008): 41-63. Print.

Baker, Kenneth. “My divine friend.” Editorial. Homiletic & Pastoral Review December 2006: 80. Print.

Bradley, Marion Zimmer. “Men, Halfings, and Hero Worship.” Zimbardo and Isaacs 76-92.

Chance, Jane. Tolkien’s Art: A Mythology for England. Rev ed. Lexington, KY: The UP of Kentucky, 2001. Print.

Gardner, Patrick and Drake Bennet, John Henriksen and Joel Dodson. SparkNotes: The Lord of the Rings. New York:      Spark Publishing, 2002. Print.

Greenwood, Linda. “Love: ‘The Gift of Death’.” Tolkien Studies Volume II: An Annual Scholarly Review. Ed. Douglas      Anderson, Michael D.C. Drout and Verlyn Flieger. Morgantown, WV: West Virginia UP, 2005: 171-195. Print.

Hammarskjöld, Dag. Markings. Trans. Leif Sjöberg and W.H. Auden. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1964. Print.

Hein, Rolland. Christian Mythmakers. 2nd ed. Chicago: Cornerstone Press Chicago, 2002. Print.

Hendra, Tony. Brotherhood. New York: American Express Publishing Corporation, 2001. Print.

The Jerusalem Bible Reader’s Edition. Gen ed. Alexander Jones. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966. Print.

Klinger, Judith. “Hidden Paths of Time: March 13th and the Riddles of Shelob’s Lair.” Tolkien and Modernity 2. Ed. Thomas      Honegger and Frank Weinreich. Zollikofen, Switzerland: Walking Tree Publishers, 2006: 143-209. Print.

Purtill, Richard. J. R. R. Tolkien: Myth, Morality & Religion. San Francisco: Ignatius, 2003. Print.

Sinclair, N. Duncan. Horrific Traumata: A Pastoral Response to the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Binghamton, New      York: The Haworth Pastoral Press, 1993. Print.

Sheen, Fulton J. Fulton J. Sheen’s Guide to Contentment. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1967. Print.

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien. Ed. Humphrey Carpenter. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2000. Print.

---. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, The Return of the King. Boston: Houghton Mifflin,       1965-66. Print.

---. The Tolkien Reader. New York: Ballantine Books, 1966. Print.

Wood, Ralph C. The Gospel According to Tolkien: Visions of the Kingdom in Middle-earth. Louisville, KY: Knox, 2003.      Print.

Zimbardo, Rose A and Neil D. Isaacs, eds. Understanding The Lord of the Rings: The Best of Tolkien Criticism. Boston:      Houghton Mifflin, 2004. Print.

Zimbardo, Rose A. “Moral Vision in The Lord of the Rings.” Zimbardo and Isaacs 68-75.

(c) 2010 Anne Marie Gazzolo