Narnia and Lord of the Rings on ‘being Dangerous’

“Perhaps he also thought you were Saruman,’ said Gimli. ‘But you speak of him as if he was a friend. I thought Fangorn was dangerous.’

‘Dangerous!’ cried Gandalf. ‘And so am I, very dangerous: more dangerous than anything you will ever meet, unless you are brought alive before the seat of the Dark Lord.’”

“Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion.” “Ooh” said Susan. “I’d thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion”…”Safe?” said Mr Beaver …”Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Both the above quotations (the former from Tolkien’s The Two Towers and the latter from Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) speak to the nature of being, namely, that both the virtuous and vicious are dangerous. Both Gandalf, wizard-guide presiding over the quest of the Ring, and Aslan, Christ of Narnia, are terrible in power and capacity to protect those they look after. Yet those who are under the power of such beings are often unaware of the power their protectors’ possess.

The postmodern mind argues that the virtuous is the tame. And indeed, I think this is true, in some capacity. Within The Lord of the Rings, for example, the hobbits, in their relative smallness, are the only beings capable of delivering the Ring to Mount Doom, on account of their immunity to corruptibility. Gandalf himself, when confronted with the possibility of doing the deed himself, is overcome with dread at what may become of him for doing such a thing.

And I think of great saints who have achieved similar feats (coming to mind immediately is Thérèse of Lisieux) out of a sort of tamne-ness, or even the writings of Paul, who claimed “my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). This is the genius of salvation: that we all have a unique manner in which we are perfectly ourselves. And it is vital to note that one is not better than another: though Frodo was the only one who could bear the Ring, he would not have made it to Mordor without Gandalf.

But what is concerning is when we assume that the way of tame-ness is the only manner of practicing one’s vocation, as is evident from today’s quotes. We associate danger and power with evil, thinking that strength always leads to corruption. Worse, we deny our own strength, thinking ourselves to be helpless in the presence of evil.

Safety, danger; we use these words to describe how we feel. We desire safety, fear danger. We reckon those outside of us as dangerous and downplay our own ability to be dangerous ourselves.

But we are not docile creatures. We are created in the image and likeness of God (a phrase used so often but understood so little). Our capacity for good and evil are beyond what we could possibly imagine. And as we increase in virtue (and fulfill our vocation) we increase in our capacity to act, for better or for worse. 

Think of the following analogy: kids can do some awful things, but it is adults that commit the most heinous of crimes. And while children have done some remarkable things, adults alone have the capacity to really carry out lasting meaningful change.

As we ask God to bestow upon us the graces to make His Kingdom come on Earth, we pray that we may be gifted with both the capacity to enact these changes and the childlike wonder required to dream such dreams:

Lord God, make of us a people who seek your Kingdom as a child searches for her mother. Remind us that you are always near and help us to hear your sweet, soothing voice. Give us the arms and legs to enact change, that we may put into action that which you inspire within us.

Through Christ Our Lord,

Amen.