| There will be moments in each of our lives when the difficult circumstances of the present moment weigh us down and drown and threaten to extinguish hope for the future. What we need most in those moments is simply to have the strong arms of supportive friends come alongside us and carry us (at least figuratively if not literally) for a while when we can’t go on by ourselves.
Many of us have probably read the Lord of the Rings trilogy and/or watched it unfold on the big-screen. But for those who may not be familiar with the story, the unlikely hero of this epic is a Hobbit named Frodo Baggins. Frodo inherits the One Ring of Power from his Uncle Bilbo, and becomes the “ring-bearer” who must embark on a quest to deliver it back to the forge where it was created—this, so the story goes, is the only fire hot enough to destroy it. So Frodo and his faithful friend, Samwise Gamgee, embark on a long and very difficult journey from their idyllic home in The Shire to the slopes of Mount Doom. As they near the end, both are physically exhausted from all they have endured but Frodo is particularly worn down because he carries the extra “burden” of carrying the One Ring. There is a scene near the end of The Return of the King, the final part of the trilogy, when Frodo collapses under the weight of his “burden” and is unable to continue, and Sam comes alongside him to try and encourage him to keep walking forward…
Sam: Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It'll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields... and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries? Frodo: No, Sam. I can't recall the taste of food... nor the sound of water... nor the touch of grass. I'm... naked in the dark, with nothing, no veil... between me... and the wheel of fire! I can see him... with my waking eyes! Sam: Then let us be rid of it... once and for all! Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry [your burden] for you... but I can carry you.
This is one of my favorite scenes in The Lord of the Rings. I get chills when I watch it play out on the screen, and I think it’s because it gives a great illustration of humanity at it’s very best. Even though human beings tend to be resilient by nature, there will inevitably be moments in our lives together (either as individuals or as communities) when no amount of reminders of the good old days or reassurance that “everything’s going to be okay” will “snap us out” of our present funk. The difficult circumstances of the present moment weigh us down and drown out all our memories of the past… and threaten to extinguish our hope for the future. Like Frodo, we feel, “naked in the dark, with nothing, no veil… between me… and the wheel of fire!”
What we need most in those moments is simply to have the strong arms of supportive friends come alongside us and carry us (at least figuratively if not literally) for a while when we can’t go on by ourselves.
Like Frodo, our burden, our grief, our pain, is uniquely ours, and no one else can carry the “burden” for us per se; but like Sam, our friends and family (and especially our Christian family) should be there to “carry” us when our burden is too much for us to keep moving forward on our own.
As we draw near to others as they live through hardship, pain, and suffering we merely follow the example that Jesus set. Jesus entered fully into the darkness of humanity; he knew what it was to experience the darkest of human emotions—e.g., betrayal, abandonment, pain, suffering, etc. He entered into lives of people who were the least, last, and lost of society and helped give them hope—in a real sense, he carried (or lifted) their burdens. In the end, he literally carried the cross and through his crucifixion, he carried the collective “burden” of the whole world once and for all. After his resurrection and ascension, Jesus left the Holy Spirit in to continue to help carry us along on our journey of faith. Jesus likewise called each of us who would follow after him as his disciples to carry our own cross and help each other carry our burdens. The Apostle Paul said we should, “Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
I think perhaps it’s sometimes harder to recognize God when we live through hardship, pain, and suffering because we have a tendency to stay at arms length from someone when we know they have lived through a personal tragedy. We want to give people their space to grieve, and that’s certainly appropriate and needed. But there also comes a time when we need to enter in, to come alongside our friends and offer our support. As someone who has recently experienced such a tragedy, I can testify that while you certainly need space, too much space is also difficult. Sometimes when you desperately need someone to talk to, it feels like you are alone in the universe to figure out life. You feel abandoned by others… friends, family, even God. I know it’s hard to know what to say in those moments, but here’s a secret I’m beginning to learn—sometimes you don’t have to say a thing, you just have to be there for someone. Just your presence in the midst of someone’s darkness can sometimes make all the difference.
The problem is, as Teresa of Avila puts it, is that “Christ has no body here but ours; no hands, no feet on Earth but ours…” In other words, if you and I who claim to be Christ followers aren’t there for people in the midst of their darkness, then it’s not much of a stretch for them to assume that God is not there for them either. The only way people are ever going to “recognize God” the midst of their darkness is if people like you and me become “lights in the darkness” and actually make God “visible” to them.
I think the scene with Frodo and Sam I mentioned above is so powerful because it gives us a glimpse of those seemingly all too rare moments in our lives when we are actually willing to follow the example of Christ and fully enter into someone else’s darkness. Sam was willing to walk alongside Frodo on his dark journey to the very end, even if it meant sacrificing his own life. How many of us would do the same for our friends? (I’d like to think I would, but I’d have to confess I’m not sure…) May we all learn from the example of this brave little Hobbit—and ultimately from Christ’s example—and be more willing to enter the darkness with our friends and neighbors (whether they live next door or on the other side of the world) and walk with them on their journey for however long it takes, and no matter what it costs.

Alan Ward lives in Baltimore, MD and his writing can be found at Alan's Corner. |
I am glad your visit to my blog was helpful. Jonathan's piece about Good Friday was amazing and fits so well with your article here.
I, however, have entire too many "favorite" scenes from LOTR. I probably have one for every situation in life! I am indebted to J.R.R. Tolkien for so many wonderfully deep and insightful word pictures.
You would not be surprised to find that I resonate with Eowyn of Rohan ... and her defiance of the Witch King in defense of Theoden brings cHesed tears to my eyes....
Actually, I also love the other scene you mention. That one vies for tops on my list as well.
I enjoyed your Purple Martyrdom article at your blog. Very interesting. I didn't know the martyrs were color-coded either. :) It strikes me that today most of us today probably want to be Clear Martyrs -- i.e., we'd like to just be a Christian, live a nice life, and pretty much stay "clear" of having to deal with much hardship (no matter what color) at all.
Also thanks for the link to Jonathon's post about the 1-year anniversary of his wife's tragic death and subsequent reflections on Good Friday.
I know both sides of this topic, just like you. It is always good to stand in someone else's shoes and look out through their eyes. Thanks for helping me see better.