Courage in Quiet Places
Scheduled for November 16
In
his classic novel The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien gives an interesting
insight on courage. The scene is set: little Bilbo Baggins, a half pint
Everyman, is going down the tunnel to sneak into the dragon’s lair. Not one of
his companions would volunteer to go with him. About halfway down the tunnel
he hears the rumble of the sleeping dragon. This is the description:
“...
Wisps of vapor floated up and past him, and he began to sweat. A sound, too,
began to throb in his ears, a sort of bubbling like the noise of a large pot
galloping on the fire, mixed with a rumble as of a gigantic tom-cat purring.
This grew to the unmistakable gurgling noise of some vast animal snoring in its
sleep down there in the red glow in front of him.
“ It
was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest
thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterward were as
nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before
he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait. ...”
Have
you ever had a moment like that? A moment when you had the time and quiet to
think, and realized that what you were about to do was indeed a frightening
thing? I did once. It was at a wedding. I nearly stayed a bachelor all my
life (Betty managed to talk me out of it). How often we reach the point where
we say to ourselves, “Look how small I am, and how great the task ahead of me.”
I’m
like that quite often at Communion. How often I drag myself, mentally, to the
altar of God and moan, “Here I am again. Back again, with the same sins as
last week, unable to triumph over them. Lord, how can you stand to see me like
this?” The great temptation is to say to God that I am such a sinner that
nothing can be done for me. I take counsel of my fears and listen to my
discouragement. The battle begins.
Then
I begin to think about what lies ahead that week. I think of the people I will
have to face; the conflicts which seem inevitable, and the reactions already
burning in me. It seems hopeless to think that I can walk as Christ would have
me walk.
If
I stood alone in my own strength, that would be true. But I do not stand
alone. Communion is a time when we must -- like Bilbo in the tunnel -- face
our fears and our discouragements. If we face them alone, we will fail. But
we do not need to face them alone. For just as we are weak, He is mighty, and
He is with us. Unlike Bilbo, we are not alone. The Lord Almighty stands with
us.
I
do not stand alone. I bring my sins to a loving, forgiving heavenly Father. I
receive from him the charge to try again, and his promise of his aid. I am
brave, for I am not alone.
