Earlier this year I wrote a series of posts on “A Theology of Gift-Giving“. The impetus behind creating these posts was twofold. One was to demonstrate the directive theory of drama that I was promoting from Kevin Vanhoozer’s The Drama of Doctrine. The other was to counteract the extremes on both sides of giving gifts that I have experienced, namely, treating gift-giving (particularly for holidays) as carnal and giving gifts in a materialisitc and spoiling manner. I was satisfied by the end product in these posts so I thought that I’d offer them here together since they are conducive to the season at hand. I would love to hear your thoughts on these posts as well as your testimonials of how you go about striking a good balance between the two extremes I mentioned above.

• A Theology of Gift-Giving
• A Theology of Gift-Giving II

Having read so much of J. R. R. Tolkien’s fiction, and having built a semi-substantial secondary source library on Tolkien, I felt it was time to dive into the key piece of work for anyone who is interested in knowing more about Tolkien’s literary and theological rationale for story-making. “On Fairy-Stories” is the fundamental source for understanding the logic behind anything that Tolkien has written. His essay has since served as the authoritative text on what is essential to fantasy literature. I think what’s most revealing and helpful in “On Fairy-Stories” is that you realize that Tolkien didn’t simply spend his whole life creating MiddleEarth just because he had a love for fiction. Only to see a work like The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia per se as merely fiction, and thus, all they have to offer and intend to offer is a “story” for pleasure and entertainment falls terribly short of the impetus for their creation and the philosophy of fiction held by their authors.

Tolkien delivered this essay in 1938 at the University of St. Andrews as the keynote speaker for the Andrew Lang Lecture series. He wrote it near the beginning of his creation of The Lord of the Rings, particularly The Fellowship of the Ring. Tolkien reflects that the precise timing was “[a]t about the time we had reached Bree, and I had then no more notion than they had of what had become of Gandalf or who Strider was; and I had begun to despair of surviving to find out (31).” In this lecture, he sets out to define what a “fairy-story” is but refuses to try and sum it up in only a matter of one or two sentences. In reality, the entire essay could be considered his definition of what a “fairy-story” is. This is something that he is aware of and hints at when he states, “Faërie cannot be caught in a net of words; for it is one of its qualities to be indescribable, though not imperceptible. It has many ingredients, but analysis will not necessarily discover the secret of the whole. Yet I hope that what I have later to say about the other questions will give some glimpses of my own imperfect vision of it (39).”

The elusiveness of the “fairy-story” for Tolkien is not due to its usage as a broad category in which many sub-genres find their origin. Tolkien shows that any good and true “fairy-story” is one that finds itself in “the Perilous Realm itself, and the air that blows in that country (38).” I will explain what Tolkien means by this statement in subsequent posts on this essay, but for the moment, the basic idea is that a “fairy-story” is one where its adventure occurs in a world of real struggle. A setting that is not only prime for danger and bleakness of hope, but one where the human condition is allowed to be stripped down to its bone and marrow, revealing in vivid scenes and detail what does it mean to live this life, and for Tolkien, it is the human condition set in the context of his Christianity that he portrays in the LOTR. And let me just say, for those who object to the explicit Christian element present in the LOTR, then it is clear those responders have either not read this essay, or have read it, and totally disregarded the framework for his entire philosophy of myth presented in this writing.

“The Perilous Realm” is typically what we regard as the fantastical element to a story such as the LOTR. However, a true “fairy-story” for Tolkien is not defined by whether or not it has “fantasy” type characters such as dragons, hobbits, orcs, and elves. It is the grandness of the scale in which the story takes place. Perhaps this is why in a fantasy novel the conflict is usually centered on things such as the end of the world, the reign of darkness/evil, genocide, and so forth. It is these “Perilous Realms” that provide the receptacle for the creation of a story that has the opportunity to portray elements of the human condition and reality with monumental scope. The fact that the “fantasy” genre is naturally conducive to this type of drama reveals why it is so often the form of a true “fairy-story”.

When I hear people say they don’t like movies and books like the LOTR or The Chronicles of Narnia because they think that all of the creatures, characters, and lands are silly, it is clear that they have missed the mark completely. Not that you can’t have a personal preference concerning literary genres, however, to reduce the quality of fantasy simply to its “fantastical” features such as those mentioned completely misunderstands how these “extreme” characteristics of the genre serve the story-telling by creating a context for watchers and readers to have some of the deepest experiences available through literature because of the magnanimity of the world in which it takes place and the struggles therein which we identify with in our own lives.  What we tend to fail to recognize is that the “real world” that we believe is so distant from the fantasy world really isn’t that foreign at all. We often regard fantasy literature as escapist reading. However I would contend that it is in fact more real in terms of all of reality than we give it credit. Just think about it for a moment. Dwell upon the grandness of the universe in which our story is set. What about the long list of epic battles and wars that have occurred in world history? Or the attempts at genocide? We’ve succeeded in sending people to outer space. On the spiritual side, we affirm the reality of angels, demons, Satan, the after life, and God, who by the way, are at war with one another which we are a part of as well. We confess that God became man, God died, and God rose again. Pretty fantastical if you ask me?

One of the works I had to read this week for my Reformation Reading Ph. D. Seminar was Zwingli’s An Exposition of the Faith. In it, he briefly sets forth the main tenets of his Reformed theology for the king in order to assure him of Zwingli’s and his stately companions’ orthodoxy and loyalty to a system of theology that would not create rebellion against the government.

At the beginning, he begins with God as Creator and shows how this truth, namely, that all created things find their meaning in the one uncreated being, is the foundation for all Christian theology. As he is closing out this section before he moves on to discuss Christology, he gives a powerfully eloquent summary of the gospel where he names God as Supreme Goodness who in turn gave the supreme gift. That supreme gift, however, is identified as “the most costly of all its treasures, namely itself, . . .” In other words, God as ultimate goodness could not give anything other than the absolute best; therefore, since he is the highest of all treasures, he gave himself, God in the flesh, Jesus Christ the incarnate Son of God to be a sacrifice for sins on the cross.

This passage really ministered to me. I hope you are blessed by it and that you read it within the framework of the fact that above all else, the Reformers were about contending for the integrity of the gospel of Jesus Christ. These men were truly captured by grace. That’s why I love reading them so much. Everything is so gospel-saturated to the core. Here’s the passage in full:

Therefore when supreme Goodness willed to give the supreme gift, it gave the most costly of all its treasures, namely itself, so that the soul of man which is always seeking that which is greater should not be able to wonder how it is that the sacrifice of angel or man can have sufficient value to avail for all, or how it is possible to put undisputed trust in any creature. Thus the Son of God is given to us as a confirmation of mercy, a pledge of grace, a requital of justice and an example of life, to assure us of the grace of God and to give us the law of true conduct. Who can sufficiently estimate the magnanimity of the divine goodness and mercy? We had merited rejection, and he adopts us as heirs. We had destroyed the way of life, and he has restored it. The divine goodness has so redeemed and restored us that we are full of thanks for his mercy and just and blameless by reason of his atoning sacrifice.

~ taken from The Library of Christian Classics, Zwingli and Bullinger, 250-51.

Last year I was able to promote Andrew Peterson’s first novel, On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Trying at best to overlook my bias for Peterson, I was well-pleased with his story-telling ability outside the context of a song. Likewise, I was supposed to read and review the second installment in his “The WingFeather Saga,” but alas, when I first signed up to be a part of the blog tour, I had not anticipated how busy I would become in the near future. At this point, I haven’t even cracked it open. In all likelihood, I won’t even get a chance to read it until Christmas break. Nevertheless, I can still give it a plug in hopes that you will not wait on me to take part in another great fantasy trilogy with the nice incentive that it is written by a Christian who is grounded in solid orthodoxy and who obviously loves Christ. Here is a brief summary and author bio. At the bottom are links to various sites related to Peterson and the book. Let me know what you think.

Janner, Tink, and Leeli Igiby thought they were normal children with normal lives and a normal past. But now they know they’re really the Lost Jewels of Anniera, heirs to a legendary kingdom across the sea, and suddenly everyone wants to kill them.

Their escape brings readers to the very brink of Fingap Falls, over the Stony Mountains, and across the Ice Prairies, while villains galore try to stop the Igibys permanently. Fearsome toothy cows and horned hounds return, along with new dangers: a mad man running a fork factory, a den of rockroaches, and majestic talking sea dragons.

Andrew Peterson’s lovable characters create what FantasyBookCritic.com says made Book One “one of the best fantasy novels in a very long time,” and Book Two contains even more thrills, exploring “themes universal in nature, ranging from the classic good versus evil, to the importance of family, and burdens of responsibility.”

Author bio.:

Andrew Peterson is the author of On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, Book One in the Wingfeather Saga, and The Ballad of Matthew’s Begats. He’s also the critically-acclaimed singer-songwriter and recording artist of ten albums, including Resurrection Letters II. He and his wife, Jamie, live with their two sons and one daughter in a little house they call The Warren near Nashville , Tennessee .

• Visit the official website for The Wingfeather Saga. This a pretty elaborate site for a book.
• Purchase the book at The Rabbit Room.
• Check out Andrew’s official website.

It was satisfying to see The Lord of the Rings make its way into the Hebrew language. For some reason, it just feels right. These covers are pretty awesome too (HT: Tolkien Society).