Why you should read ‘Lord of the Rings’ this Advent

Every year in December, social media wars erupt over whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie. Apparently, it premiered in theaters during Christmastime and features an office Christmas party, and this is all very important. I personally can’t be enticed into joining the fray. When it comes to John McClane, I’m as neutral as Switzerland.

Recently, though, a similar argument has arisen about another movie, Lord of the Rings. This one, I think, is another discussion that can fruitfully proceed without my input. I have no clue if these movies are “Christmas movies” and I’m not really all that interested in getting involved. Christmas is right around the corner, so I suppose I can make a shocking confession here and hope you’re all in a goodwill-to-all-men mood – I never actually finished watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy of movies.

I watched the first one and lost interest after that, probably because so much that I love about the books is missing from the films. I know, I know, bragging on the internet about how the book is better than the movie is beyond annoying. I deserve all your ire on this one. I do think the movies are probably pretty wonderful, especially for Tolkien fans.

I’m bringing this all up and risking a reader revolt because I want to point out that the Lord of the Rings books, while not specifically about Christmas, have plenty of resonant themes that Tolkien was well aware would bring to mind thoughts of the Nativity. Tolkien was a devout Catholic and his novels are suffused with Catholic theology and cultural allusions.

For instance, in The Fellowship of the Ring, the group sets out from Rivendell with the One Ring on December 25. According to the main text in the book, it was “a cold grey day near the end of December,” but enterprising readers have noticed that in Appendix B, Tolkien identifies the specific day as the 25. In other words, The Fellowship (with Gandalf who is basically a wizardly version of Santa, but I digress), embarks on their heroic journey to redeem the world from the addictive sin contained in the One Ring on Christmas Day.

The quest begun that day ultimately results in peace on earth, but only after Frodo and Sam climb to their own version of Mount Calvary to destroy the Ring. The birth of Christ on Christmas sets in motion a divine plan that can only result in the Cross, so too does the departure of The Fellowship.

The most interesting Christmas theme, though, occurs a little later in the books when the Fellowship arrives in Lothlorien and spends time with Galadriel. Before departing her kingdom, they have a going-away feast. At the feast, gifts are given. Each member of the Fellowship receives a personalized present – elven cloaks and brooches, a special rope for Sam, a golden belt for Boromir, a silver belt for Merry, a silver belt for Pippin, a bow strung with elf hair and arrows for Legolas, three strands of Galadriel's hair for Gimli, the Phial of Galadriel for Frodo, and more. Like any good Christmas gift, each one is carefully chosen for the recipient.

Galadriel’s gifts perfectly represent the spirit of Christmas. They’re given with generosity and no expectation of anything in return. What’s so fascinating about the gifts, though, isn’t even how well chosen they are but who is giving them. Galadriel, the gift-giver, is a symbol for the Blessed Virgin Mary. Tolkien acknowledges as much in a letter to a friend, writing, “I think it is true that I owe much of this character [Galadriel] to Christian and Catholic teaching and imagination about Mary.”

In the Nativity story, Mary’s gift to the world is her Son. Through him the world is redeemed and given new life. Just as the gift of Our Lady renews the world, so too do the gifts of Galadriel assist the Fellowship to save Middle Earth.

Galadriel's greatest gift to the Fellowship is probably lembas bread. The bread is a symbol for the Eucharist. Called “way-bread” by the elves, it’s bread for the journey. It seems like normal food to the sight and to the taste, but in fact “lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have lain down to die ... it fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind.”

The Eucharistic gift of Galadriel is the difference between life and death for the Fellowship, just as the gift of Christ, the Bread of Life, makes all the difference for us. Christ is Our Lady’s best Christmas gift.

Tolkien, in the masterful way he has, alludes to the Nativity of Our Lord subtly without making the allusion heavy-handed. Because of that nuance, I suppose we can continue to argue to the internet about whether this makes Lord of the Rings a proper Christmas story or not. I don’t think Tolkien was aiming for something quite so obvious, though. After all, he’s telling a story that has its own deeply rooted history, themes, and purpose.

And yet I still think The Lord of the Rings would be a wonderful book to read this Advent to prepare our hearts to receive Our Lady’s Christmas gift.