Boromir and the Ring

In recent weeks I had the privilege of spending the evening with my dad and talking until well past when we both knew we should be going to sleep. It was like a moment was held out to me to hear and to be heard, to be challenged and to find voice for what is often held silent. I hope that I will always take hold of those opportunities.

I did not fully realize that the conversation was still so present with me, until tonight, when I came nearly to the end of The Fellowship of the Ring. I have been reading Tolkien’s book to my teenage daughters for the few minutes just before they turn off their lights. It has taken the better part of a year. Today we came to the tragic fall of Boromir. At some point in my late-night conversation with Dad, he and i were reflecting on the tendency of Christians to desire control in our world, to gain political influence in order to usher in what is good. Dad remarked, “That is, of course, the whole point of the Ring of Power in Lord of the Rings.” The comment lingered for a moment and was gone. It registered but did not land with much force.

But tonight that word from Dad rang softly in my ear when I read the passage below. These joined together with a swirl of thoughts that had troubled me from earlier in the day. As he talks to him about the burden of the ring that Frodo must bear, Boromir muses:

“ . . . you seem ever to think only of its power in the hands of the Enemy: of its evil uses not of its good. The world is changing, you say. Minas Tirith will fall, if the Ring lasts. But why? Certainly, if the Ring were with the Enemy. But why, if it were with us?’

"Were you not at the Council?” answered Frodo. "Because we cannot use it, and what is done with it turns to evil."

Boromir got up and walked about impatiently. "So you go on," he cried. "Gandalf, Elrond – all these folk have taught you to say so. For themselves they may be right. These elves and half-elves and wizards, they would come to grief perhaps. Yet often I doubt if they are wise and not merely timid. But each to his own kind. True-hearted Men, they will not be corrupted. We of Minas Tirith have been staunch through long years of trial. We do not desire the power of wizard-lords, only strength to defend ourselves, strength in a just cause. And behold! In our need chance brings to light the Ring of Power. It is a gift, I say; a gift to the foes of Mordor. It is mad not to use it, to use the power of the Enemy against him. The fearless, the ruthless, these alone will achieve victory. What could not a warrior do in this hour, a great leader? What could not Aragorn do? Or if he refuses, why not Boromir? The Ring would give me power of Command. How I would drive the hosts of Mordor, and all men would flock to my banner!"

Boromir’s speech is enticing in some ways, and perhaps some in our Christian circles might even see it as noble. It seems to resonate. It is the voice of one who is strong, intrepid, a winner. It sounds shrewd, smart, and self-assured. Yet, in the end, it demonstrates the madness produced by the allure of power, even that which is wielded for seemingly good purposes. Boromir becomes restless and agitated, dreaming of his plans and first requesting and then demanding the Ring: “His fair and pleasant face was hideously changed; a raging fire was in his eyes.”

I have reflected in many recent days on the dangers that accrue in power-differentiated relationships and on the folly that is nearly always the result. All who by God’s leading are placed in positions of influence must forever heed the warning of the example not only of the marvelously created fictional character but also of the patterns of history. The wisest and best of people become easily deluded when placed in positions in which they do not have clearly delineated or even self-imposed structures of authority placed on them. The stories are myriad of the fall of admired Christian leaders who did not suspect enough their own propensity to pride, self-deception, abuse. We dare not take the road of separating the failures of such “fallen heroes” from the supposed insightfulness of their teachings.. No – love of self is buried deeply in us all, even in those who are being redeemed, and with no checks placed upon it makes even wise-sounding words heresy. This is why we must choose to yield ourselves to one another, to be held accountable in community, to be committed to the fellowship that holds us fast to the true Gospel mission to which we are called.