Masterful Poems: “Carrion Comfort”

“Not, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee.” So begins a poem that may not be, at first glance, a very cheerful one. After all, the first half of the poem is addressed to Despair itself, describing it as dead, putrefying flesh—a feast suitable for vultures, not men.

However, when you read through to the end, you’ll find yourself surprised—as the poet himself did—at the change in perspective. Despite its dismal start, the poem is full of hope! Today I present you with one of my all-time favorite poems by my all-time favorite poet: “Carrion Comfort,” by Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Not, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist — slack they may be — these last strands of man
In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me
Thy wring-world right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan
With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones? and fan,
O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee?

   Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear.
Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,
Hand rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, chéer.
Cheer whom though? the hero whose heaven-handling flung me, fóot tród
Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night, that year
Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God.

Now, writing about Hopkins himself would take several posts, and I hope to do that one of these days (I say that a lot, don’t I?), but it is not this day. Today I want to leap right past the fact that he was a Jesuit priest from late-19th-century England and was one of the most sincere, creative poets of his time. Nope, I won’t even tell you about him at all. Instead, let’s get right down to the nitty gritty of “Carrion Comfort.”

This, my friends, is a portrait of a man at the end of his rope. See how his tone starts off so defiant in the first three lines? He refuses to loosen his hold on the limp, fraying cord that tethers him to life and humanity. He is determined to persevere. But by line 4, the most fight he can muster up is the refusal to slip away into death.

He then, like Job, starts to question Despair, accusing it of mistreating him. After all, what had the poet ever done to deserve Its wrath? All he had wanted was to avoid Despair and run away! But instead, the poet is wrung out, slashed up, bruised, and abandoned.

The second stanza begins with one of the deepest questions in our vocabulary: “Why?”

It’s the question of Job and of every sufferer since. But while Job received his answer (graciously and frighteningly) from God Himself, the poet’s answer seems to dawn on him gradually as he looks up from his circumstances.

The reason he had felt beaten, shaken, and blown apart is because he was being tested. Satan asked permission to sift him like wheat, and the answer was yes. But when he turned again like Peter, his heart “lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, chéer.” How is this possible? Because although his circumstances didn’t change, his perspective did.

Looking up from the threshing floor to thank the rod that had scoured away his useless chaff, he found that it was not in Satan’s hand after all. Instead, he saw the “hero whose heaven-handling” had flung and trampled him. But rather than feeling resentful, the poet feels joy. His suffering has not been in vain. As this realization sinks in, both he and his “hero” are cheered by his renewed strength to persevere.

See, the poet had mistaken his foe; in the dark night of his soul, he had not been wrestling with Satan or Despair. He had been wrestling with God Himself. He seems as shocked as Jacob did, and yet he, too, received a blessing: the joy that comes from an accurate perspective about suffering. “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

 

Source: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44392/carrion-comfort

Awesome Children’s Books, Part 3: Little Bear

This week we’ll look at one of my favorite book series from when I was younger. Grab some tea and cookies, and settle in for a good read!

A Little-Known Author

Currently on my bookshelf, I have four of the five original Little Bear books, written by Else Holmelund Minarik. Never heard of her before? Neither had I! During her   lifetime, she was a journalist, a children’s book writer, and a first-grade teacher in New York, having moved to America from Denmark with her family when she was four years old. While she wrote many children’s books in her lifetime, the Little Bear books are what she’s best known for.

A Celebrated Illustrator

And, much to the books’ benefit, they were illustrated by none other than Maurice Sendak, the author and illustrator of Where the Wild Things Are and many other classics. I will most certainly write a separate post about that book someday, but not today. Suffice it to say, his classic style lends a memorable, comfortable feel to these quaint stories. What the pictures lack in color, they make up for in expression.

Adventures at Home

So what are the Little Bear books about? Not surprisingly, they’re about a little bear and his adventures. But his adventures are of the homey sort—the kinds of things any young child can relate to. He plays in the snow, visits his grandparents, makes new friends, has a birthday party, and imagines flying to the moon. Obviously, Minarik didn’t feel obligated to cook up a brand-new plot idea, and I’m glad she didn’t. These are the kinds of stories I remember as being “cozy” when I was growing up.

A Practical Mother

After Little Bear himself, the second-biggest star of the show is Mother Bear. Since the stories are homey, Mother Bear is the biggest influence in her little cub’s life. In fact, in the first book, simply entitled Little Bear, she is almost the only other character! I think this is another way Minarik keeps her books relatable rather than innovative. Reading the stories now, I find Mother Bear’s attitude pretty funny, although I don’t think she was meant to be comical. But she’s just so literal! She reminds me of Mary Poppins, as a matter of fact; she’s generally practical with an occasional dash of silliness. For example, one day Little Bear announces that, since he has a new space helmet (a box with curly wires sticking out the top), he will be flying to the moon.

“Fly!” said Mother Bear. “You can’t fly.”
“Birds fly,” said Little Bear.
“Oh, yes,” said Mother Bear. “Birds fly, but they don’t fly to the moon. And you are not a bird.”
“Maybe some birds fly to the moon, I don’t know. And maybe I can fly like a bird,” said Little Bear.
“And maybe,” said Mother Bear, “you are a little fat bear cub with no wings and no feathers. Maybe if you jump up you will come down very fast with a big plop.”

A Gentle Mother

Wow, Mother Bear! Way to crush his dreams. Lest we judge her too harshly, I’m sure she was just making sure he didn’t break his legs by jumping off of the roof or anything. Plus, it was the fifties; kids didn’t need to be coddled quite as much back then. But Mother Bear does prove more flexible when she plays along with Little Bear’s make-believe toward the end of the story. He has jumped out of a tree and pretended to land on the moon. He discovers a house “just like his” and ventures inside.

Mother Bear came in and said, “But who is this? Are you a bear from Earth?”
“Oh, yes, I am,” said Little Bear. “I climbed a little hill, and jumped from a little tree, and flew here, just like the birds.”
“Well,” said Mother Bear. “My little bear did the same thing. He put on his space helmet and flew to Earth. So I guess you can have his lunch.”

Happily Ever After

The story ends happily with lunch, a nap, and lots of love, as many good stories should. The rest of the books include even more adventures, comical illustrations, funny scenarios, and relatable situations that I know you would enjoy. Do yourself a favor, and find some of these old classics. Read them, enjoy them, and remember when life was as simple and rich as your imagination could make it.

Source: Minarik, Else Holmelund. Little Bear. New York: Harper & Roe, 1957.

Suggested Reading: A Short Star Wars Article

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always been a Star Wars fan. In fact, my first experience with the saga came when I was still an infant. I was born the year that Return of the Jedi was released, and my parents thought it would be a good idea to take me to the theater to enjoy it with them. Well, they learned their lesson about bringing babies to theaters, but at least I got the chance to take part in the classic trilogy from my earliest days. As I grew up, I continued to immerse myself in the Star Wars movies until their dialogue was common parlance within my family and friends. #nerdlife

Now, I hope to write a longer series about Star Wars one of these days, but not today. I’ve had an unexpectedly busy week, but I didn’t want to leave you high and dry without anything interesting to browse through this weekend. Ergo, I shall provide you with a link to an article that I think you’ll find interesting, Star Wars fan or not.

The link is to a website I’ve mentioned before: Transpositions. They’re the ones who posted my article on Anne Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird. (By the way, if you haven’t read that one yet, you should! It includes some lovely stuff about Tolkien and Lewis.) But that’s not what I’m leaving you with today.

No, today I wanted to point you toward an article written by a guy named Andrew Barber. The article is called “Star Wars: The (Not) Chosen One.” It takes a look at one of the newer Star Wars offerings, The Last Jedi. Again, I hope to submit my full opinions about this and other Star Wars films to you at some point, but for today I hope you’ll enjoy Barber’s take on the role of a messiah in Star Wars—specifically in The Last Jedi.

Without further ado, enjoy the article!

Star Wars: The (Not) Chosen One

Longing for Something, Part 3

It’s time! We’re finally going to look together at the long-awaited conclusion of Romans 8! These verses are full of comfort, promise, and peace, and I can’t wait to share them with you. But glory shines brightest against the dark backdrop of sin, and Romans 8 is no exception. I think the dismal context of these magnificent verses is Romans 7, where Paul is lamenting his seemingly-incurable addiction to sin.

“Wait, what?” some of you may be thinking. “Last week you said that it was unbelievers who set their minds on the things of the flesh. Believers set their minds on spiritual things, right? Surely Paul was exaggerating his struggle with sin.” Believe me, I’ve thought so too. But when you read the verses that I’m talking about and really consider your own heart, you might find that his lament is pretty relatable.

The Sickening Draw of Sin

See, he’s been talking about the difference between the Law (the commandments and expectations of God) and sin itself (the breaking of these laws). He wanted to clarify that it’s not the Law’s fault that he keeps on sinning. It’s the fact that he’s made out of flesh and lives in a fallen world with sinful desires. “For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am of flesh, sold into bondage to sin. For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate” (Rom. 7:14-15).

He doesn’t want to keep on sinning; in fact, he hates it! But he says, “I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not. For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want” (v. 18-19). No wonder he cries out in despair, “Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death?” (v. 24)

Who Will Set Me Free?

And honestly, who hasn’t felt that way before? We are weak, miserable, fallen creatures in a world full of temptations and seductions of all sorts. We’re like Christian and Faithful in Pilgrim’s Progress, surrounded by the dazzling city of Vanity Fair. But rather than replicating the spiritually-mature response of Christian and Hopeful, we fall prey to the enticements. We sell our innocence for some entertainment and our convictions for a laugh. We know better, but still we do it. Often, we too should find ourselves crying out, “Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free?”

And this question, dear friends, leads us to an answer more astounding and glorious than we’d ever have the gall to imagine on our own.

No Condemnation in Christ

The One Whom we have disobeyed, dishonored, and disowned is the One Who willingly paid for those sins. God Himself offered His only Son, and Jesus Himself offered His life willingly in order to break the power of sin and death over us.

The One we want to hide from is the One who sought us out in order to forgive us! That’s why Paul answers his own question of who will deliver him with the shocking reply, “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (v. 25a)

And that verse leads directly into chapter 8, where Paul begins his discussion about our longings with this unbelievably-comforting truth: “Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). Wait, did you get that? There is NO CONDEMNATION for believers! We deserve the ultimate punishment for rebelling against the ultimate King. And yet, because of what Jesus did on the cross in our place, we face NO CONDEMNATION! Now that’s something worth celebrating.

A Better Longing

Chapter 8 goes on to discuss our new longings in light of this truth: when we fully realize the reality of our position not as slaves to sin but as sons and daughters of God, we will gradually replace our addiction to sin with a longing for perfect completion in Him. Will we still struggle to want the right things all the time? Absolutely. But will our deepest longing continue to be for the trinkets offered at Vanity Fair? By God’s grace, absolutely not. We will still struggle daily with sin, but our deepest longing for consummation—for being conformed to the image of Jesus—will daily get deeper.

That’s why, after discussing the depths of our longing for consummation and deliverance, Paul is able to confidently affirm that “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (Rom. 8:28). Yes, we are still living in a fallen world with sinful desires, but that’s not our ultimate destiny. If we love God, it’s because God Himself predestined, called, and justified us in order that He may glorify us in the end (v. 30). All things, even our brokenhearted longings, will work together for our good and His glory.

A Glimpse of the Glory

Guys, I wanted to take a hundred more paragraphs to really unpack the ending verses of Romans 8. I wanted to revel together in the truth that God is for us, that Christ intercedes for us, and that the Spirit assures us that nothing—nothing—can separate us from the love of God. I wanted to spend forever talking about the unfathomable truth that God gave His own Son for us and will therefore also freely give us all things. I wanted to celebrate the way that, in Christ, we are more than conquerors in our struggles, turning what should distance us from God into tools that drive us closer to Him.

But then I realized that, not surprisingly, Paul says it better. So rather than watering down the potency of the passage with my own words, I think I’ll leave you with the ending verse of Romans 8. I pray that your heart will be amazed by this fabulous fireworks finale and that your love for God will be deepened by His love for you.

Romans 8:31-39

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?
Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us.
Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, ‘For your sake we are being put to death all day long; we were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’
But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Longing for Something, Part 2

“We earnestly desire consummation for the healing of our broken hearts and the drying of our tears. We want to live where ‘goodbye’ isn’t even in our vocabulary. We long for all things to be made new. And this is the consummation that the Bride of Christ will receive! Hallelujah!”

Last week we looked at longing through the Biblical analogy of marriage—a bride longing to be united with her protector, lover, and friend. We pulled a lot of that beautiful imagery from Revelation, but I did promise that we’d look at Romans 8, so here we go!

The Longing of Unbelievers

First, let’s look at this longing in non-Christians. In Romans 8, people who don’t long for Christ are described as desiring the things of the flesh, which means the body and the physical world. “For those who [live] according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh” (Rom. 8:5a). You know what it means to set your mind on something: to make a habit of thinking about it until it becomes an obsession. Why would people set their minds on temporary things like that? Because they think it will fulfill them. They’re longing for satisfaction and completion—for consummation—just as much as anyone else, but they don’t know how to get it. They believe that rebelling against God’s order will help them find what they were made for, but tragically they don’t realize they’re sawing off the branch they’re sitting on. There is no ultimate satisfaction apart from God, its Source. Their longings will never find completion outside of Christ.

Increasing the Intensity

Now, most of us have experienced the kinds of longings that we’ve looked at up to this point—a bride and groom or an obsessive thought. These are strong desires, and they communicate important aspects of this yearning that we feel. But for the rest of the examples in Romans 8, Paul draws our attention to a new analogy, one that is far more intense and dramatic. He wants to make sure we know he isn’t talking about a sweet, storybook wish for a “happily ever after” someday. He’s talking about a desire so strong that it makes you groan with intensity, longing for immediate completion. Brace yourself, because the analogy he uses is that of childbirth.

He begins this poignant section with verse 18: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” And that, folks, is the story of childbirth in a nutshell. Although I haven’t yet given birth myself, I’ve had the privilege of supporting my sister two different times as she delivered beautiful, healthy babies at home. I’m so thankful for these experiences, because they gave me an unforgettable picture of the strongest human desire and of its joyful consummation.

Now, if you’ve ever watched a mother give birth (especially if she’s fully aware of all the sensations going on in her body), you know that Paul is putting it delicately when he describes it as “groaning.” A laboring mother is completely focused and committed, but she’s completely at the mercy of her body’s timetable. She can’t rush it, but neither can she delay it. When it’s time, that baby will come, but there will be plenty of groaning until then. By the end of labor, there is one thing and one thing only that this mama wants: to get that baby out of her! Now, before I scare you away, let me show you how Paul uses this analogy to make a powerful, beautiful point.

The Groaning of Creation

Verse 22 begins the analogy this way: “For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now.” What an odd thing to say! How could creation feel an intense longing like this? The previous verses clue us in to what Paul is talking about. “For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing [or final consummation] of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility…in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:19-21). To put it another way, creation wasn’t made for corruption; it was made for perfection. But when Adam and Eve sinned, the whole created universe suffered the consequence of death.

But this won’t always be the case. Remember Christ’s promise that we looked at last week? After He returns to gather his Bride, Christ will make all things new. This includes creation! Somehow, God has given creation this innate knowledge that things are broken now, but they won’t always be so. When God’s children are completed, creation will be, too. In the meantime, Paul says that creation groans for that day with an intensity that we can’t even perceive.

The Groaning of Believers

Just after he shocks us with the fact that creation is groaning like a mother in labor, Paul then announces that believers are feeling the same way. “Even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body” (Rom. 8:23b). Creation wasn’t made for corruption, and neither were we. Our hearts know this, don’t they? When we face sickness, sin, and death, our hearts recoil at the discord. When we see injustice or suffering, our hearts cry out for deliverance.

And that word is perfectly apropos. We want to be delivered.

I hadn’t really thought of this before, but why is it that we say the mother delivers the child? If you’ve seen a mother suffer and groan through the birthing process, you know that she is the one who wants to be delivered! But she endures with strength and courage because she knows that her pain and groaning will result in unspeakable joy. True, she can’t see her precious baby yet, but she knows that all this pain must be leading somewhere. Verse 25 says it this way: “But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it.” Believers know our consummation is coming, but until that day, we groan for it and eagerly persevere.

The Groaning of the Spirit

Now, if you thought it was crazy to consider creation groaning for completion, think about the Holy Spirit Himself groaning for the same thing! Check out verse 26: “In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” The Spirit of God is living inside believers, groaning for our completion! Our hearts are breaking over the fallen nature of the world and of ourselves, and we long for it to be made right. But how often have we come to God in prayer about it only to find we aren’t even sure what, exactly, to pray for?

This is where the Spirit steps in. He intercedes to the Father on our behalf, expressing our deepest longings for us—longings so deep that there aren’t even words for it. And what is it that we long for? Just what we talked about last week: completion and consummation. Verse 29 describes it as becoming “conformed to the image of His Son,” Jesus. This is what we were made for! Until our hearts beat in unison with His, we will keenly feel the arrhythmia. But verse 30 assures us that all who are in Christ will be glorified one day, and creation itself will be made new. The groaning will be over, and the joy will begin. We will finally be delivered from this fallen world, and all creation will rejoice to see the Father welcoming His children into their eternal home, perfected and complete. The miracle of birth is just a small glimpse into the joy that is to come.

But for Now…

Just as a laboring mother is at the mercy of her body’s timetable, we too are not in control of our consummation. Therefore, we will persevere despite our groaning because we have a hope that we cannot yet see. But the day is coming when Christ will return, and we will be delivered.

Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus!

…And, as it turns out, I need another week to wrap up Romans 8. I mean, have you guys read the end of the chapter? It would be a travesty if I skipped it! If you’re not too traumatized by all this birth talk, come back next week to see even more good news!

Check out the next post here!

Longing for Something, Part 1

We’re all longing for something. No matter what we have or how happy we feel, we probably still have an ache, a yearning deep in our hearts for…something. Sure, we may not verbalize this all the time, and maybe we haven’t even stopped to think much about it. After all, it’s just part of the human condition, right? Well, yes and no. I’d like to use the next two posts to look at this topic of longing, so I hope you’ll come along with me!

Longing for Other Things

Lately I’ve been spending some time in Romans 8. That’s the mid-point chapter of a really dense and wonderful book in the New Testament, but it doesn’t feel like mid-point content. In fact, if feels like the grand finale of fireworks, the crescendo at the end of a musical masterpiece, the absolutely-perfect last bite of pie. (Yes, those are in ascending order of importance to me.) The chapter ends in a cascading fountain of glorious reassurance, but the majority of the chapter before it focuses not on completion but on longing.

But longing for what? I mentioned earlier that we’re all longing for something, and maybe you knew exactly what I was talking about. Maybe you could immediately pinpoint something you desire, something you ache for: a relationship, a healing, a change. These are longings that we’ve all had at different times, and they can be very strong, but I would submit to you that even that is not your ultimate desire. There is something deeper.

See, I believe Romans 8 is pointing out that the deepest longing in the universe is for completion.

And yes, I did mean “in the universe.” That’s why it’s not simply part of the human condition; it’s the condition of everything. Let me explain what I mean by “completion,” and next week I’ll try to show that the desire is universal (or bigger!).

Longing for Completion

By “completion,” I don’t just mean a desire for things to end. I mean true, deep, and ultimate fulfillment, redemption, fruition, perfection, consummation. Maybe “consummation” really is the better word, despite (or perhaps because of) its romantic connotations. Remember that elsewhere in the Bible, Christians in the Church are referred to as the bride of Christ. If this is a strange concept to you, just hear me out.

In Jewish culture, engaged couples could be separated from each other for long periods of time before the wedding so that the groom could make preparations. The last book of the Bible foretells of the Church—then perfected and sinless—as a bride beautifully dressed to meet her groom on their wedding day. They have been apart for ages. He has been busy sacrificing Himself to provide perfection for her, and she has been yearning to be united with him in love and thankfulness. Finally, on that day of consummation, they will sit down together and enjoy a marriage supper celebrating their long-awaited union. And then, forever.

The Bride Made Beautiful

“Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready…. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev. 19:7, 21:2). This description is so relatable. On the morning of my wedding, I needed lots of help adorning myself, that’s for sure. One girl did my hair, another did my makeup, and several more zipped me into my dress and strapped on my shoes. But—judging from my husband’s face—the adorning was well worth the effort. The Bride of Christ has been adorned with the holiness of her Husband and the “righteous acts of the saints” with which she has served Him (Rev. 19:8). She is ready.

A Feast to Celebrate

When they are finally united, it will be time to celebrate with a feast. It’s a common tragedy that, after all the deliberation, planning, and purchasing of the wedding food, most modern couples probably don’t get to enjoy the meal at their own weddings. They’re too busy taking pictures, greeting guests, and tossing garters. I, for one, tried to pack in as much food as I could, but I will always regret not eating more cupcakes. They. Were. Divine. But we were on a schedule, and we had people to talk to. Not so with the marriage of Christ and the Church. All who are invited will have forever to enjoy the feast…literally.

What to Expect

But the consummation or completion that we long for most is not the wedding itself but the marriage and all the blessings that will come from it. It would be a very disappointed couple who looked forward only to the wedding and thought nothing about the marriage. Before my marriage, I really had no idea what to expect. Would I feel peaceful? claustrophobic? protected? frustrated? No one really knows what they’re getting into with marriage, but I can say that I’ve been more blessed (and spoiled) than I could ever have expected.

But when Christ marries the church, He tells her exactly what to expect: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain.” Jesus says, “’Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:4-5). What a promise! And this, friends, this is what we’re longing for. We earnestly desire consummation for the healing of our broken hearts and the drying of our tears. We want to live where “goodbye” isn’t even in our vocabulary. We long for all things to be made new. And this is the consummation that the Bride of Christ will receive! Hallelujah!

Roots of Longing

If you’ve felt a longing in your heart for something, don’t disregard it; instead, try tracing it back to its root.

Do you long for a relationship? You were made to be united with Christ. Do you long for healing? Your heart knows that sickness and sorrow are the distortion, not the design. Do you long for change? Behold, He will make all things new.

I will leave you this week with food for thought: this consummation is what everything longs for: non-Christians, Christians, creation, and even God Himself. Does that sound crazy? Come back next week to find out if it’s true. Until then, just hold on. Completion is coming.

Check out the next post here!

Stage Twelve: Return with the Elixir

Here we are at long last! Can you believe it? IT’S THE TWELFTH AND FINAL STAGE OF THE HERO’S JOURNEY! If you’ve been tracking with me throughout this series, I applaud you. Whether you’re an aspiring writer, an avid reader, a movie connoisseur, or a faithful friend who’s been plodding along just to humor me, I really do thank you. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have!

Anyway, enough with the sentiment. Let’s get down to the business of Stage Twelve: Return with the Elixir. What does the word elixir conjure up in your mind? Maybe a magical potion or a rare medicine? Maybe your crazy aunt who gets a little too excited about her essential oil concoctions? Well, I don’t have much to say about the last mental image, but the first examples are pretty close to what the hero brings home from his or her adventure. Vogler says, “If they are true heroes, they Return with the Elixir from the Special World; bringing something to share with others, or something with the power to heal a wounded land.” (221)

The Elixir in The Temple of Doom

Remember, the hero probably began the journey in the first place because something wasn’t right at home. Maybe a loved one was very sick or the family was struggling with poverty. In a fantasy story, someone could have been taken away or placed under a curse. Maybe the whole town was in trouble or even dying, as in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. While this is my least-favorite Indiana movie (excepting the most recent travesty that should never have happened), it does provide a great example for this stage of the journey.

By a strange twist of events Indy, Willie, and Short Round end up in a remote Indian village that is dying. The villagers’ children have been taken away, and their sacred Sankara stone has been stolen. The fields are brown and brittle, and the people are destitute and heartbroken. When Indy finally returns—after some creepy adventures involving human sacrifice and voodoo dolls—he brings with him the children and the stone. The village is revived: fields are being harvested, flowers are blooming, water is flowing, and everyone rejoices to be reunited with their children. He has not returned emptyhanded; he has returned with the elixir.

Another Fancy French Literary Term

While this stage provides the solution to the main problem introduced at the beginning of the adventure, it should also provide resolution to the smaller issues. Sure, Frodo threw the ring into Mt. Doom and saved Middle Earth, but does the Fellowship get reunited? Is Aragorn crowned king? Does everyone return home? Does anyone trick his friends by hopping on a boat to the undying lands at the last minute? These questions would bother you if Tolkien had finished the story at the edge of Mt. Doom. Instead, he provides answers in the denouement.

Denouement (pronounced “day-noo-MAH”) is a French word that means “unknotting,” so it’s often used of the unknotting of various plot problems that became tangled throughout the story. Does this mean that when the hero returns with the Elixir, the story must be all wrapped up with a neat little bow on top? Not necessarily. “It’s all right for a Return to raise new questions,” Vogler says, “…but all the old questions should be addressed or at least restated.”  (222)

Intangible Elixirs

So does every adventure need to have a physical elixir solving a physical problem at the end? Not at all. Vogler mentions several kinds of Elixirs, or “gifts” that the hero can bring back from the Special World of the adventure. Some examples include romantic love for the hero, change for the world around him, responsibility toward those he had neglected earlier, and wisdom in the face of mistakes. See, the elixir could be as intangible as a lesson learned or a heart won. “The best Elixirs,” Vogler points out, “are those that bring hero and audience greater awareness.” (227)

Example from The Hobbit

Our old friend, Bilbo Baggins, is no exception. While Bilbo’s treasure from the mountain is one part of his reward, I think the lessons he learned and the person (or hobbit) he became on the journey is his true elixir. He may have lost his reputation as a well-mannered, respectable hobbit, but he has gained far more. He has seen the world, and it has changed him for the better. He passes on to Frodo this elixir of experience—along with that blasted ring—and we all know how that turns out.

So What’s Next?

Whew! When we first began the Hero’s Journey, it seemed like we would never reach the end. But look at us now! Our journey is over, and our adventure is done. So what’s next? That’s what I want to know. I’ve got several ideas cooking, but I would love to hear from you. If there are any topics you’d enjoy reading about, then please feel free to leave me a comment below. Thanks again for following this journey, and I’ll see you next week!

Today’s Question: What do you want to talk about next? Give me some topics you’re interested in!

Sources:
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Hobbit. New York: Ballantine Books, 1937.
Vogler, Christopher. The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers, Second Edition. Studio City: Michael Wiese Productions, 1998.