Frodo // A Character Sketch

(I wrote this as a guest post for the great LOTR read-along a few years ago. Thanks for letting me repost, Hamlette! :))

When first we hear of Frodo son of Drogo, he is an orphan. Brought up among the ‘queer Bucklanders’ and considered by many to be more than half a Brandybuck, he is being adopted by Bilbo as his future heir. Observant and clear-sighted, he is a lover of beauty, and also of maps and of elves, a ‘perky chap with a bright eye’ whom both Bilbo and Gandalf think the ‘best hobbit in the Shire.’

(Note, I still haven’t watched the movies, so I’ll be discussing all this as it appears in the books.)

With his rich inheritance comes the great and dreadful Ring. Gandalf had said of the Ring, in his first long discussion with Frodo near the beginning, ‘It is far more powerful than I ever dared to think at first, so powerful that in the end it would utterly overcome anyone of mortal race who possessed it. It would possess him.’ Of hobbits he said, ‘Among the Wise I am the only one that goes in for hobbit-lore: an obscure branch of knowledge, but full of surprises. Soft as butter they can be, and yet sometimes as tough as old tree-roots. I think it likely that some would resist the Rings far longer than most of the wise would believe.’

A bit farther on, Gollum’s name enters the conversation. At this point, if we’re picturing the Frodo we know from later, his first reaction may be a bit startling. ‘Gollum!’ cried Frodo. ‘Gollum? Do you mean that this is the very Gollum-creature that Bilbo met? How loathsome!’ ‘I think it is a sad story,’ said the wizard, ‘and it might have happened to others, even to some hobbits that I have known.’ ‘I can’t believe that Gollum was connected with hobbits, however distantly,’ said Frodo with some heat. ‘What an abominable notion!’ And farther still, ‘What am I to do? What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!’ ‘Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need.’ …‘I am sorry,’ said Frodo, ‘But I am frightened; and I do not feel any pity for Gollum.’ ‘You have not seen him,’ Gandalf broke in. ‘No, and I don’t want to,’ said Frodo, ‘I can’t understand you. Do you mean to say that you, and the Elves, have let him live on after all those horrible deeds? Now at any rate he is as bad as an Orc, and just an enemy. He deserves death.’

When he realizes what must be done about the Ring he says, ‘I do really wish to destroy it! …Or, well, to have it destroyed. I am not made for perilous quests. I wish I had never seen the Ring! Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?’ Nevertheless, he sets out -- going through hard adventure and dread fear and frightful pain to Rivendell, and once there, voluntarily takes on the further horrific task.

He is called to a mission, a mission stressing with horrible intensity the very places where he most needs change, and -- shaped by grief and pain and the weight of his burden -- he does change. The Frodo who meets Gollum above the Dead Marshes is a very different Frodo from the Frodo at the beginning. Grown in wisdom, he has learned the place of mercy, and knows also that the dealing out of final judgment -- final doom -- is not his.

He has grown in wisdom and mercy, but at the same time, he is desperately fighting the growing power of the Ring. We see a lot of this through the eyes of dear, faithful Sam. As, in torment and travail, they near Mount Doom, Sam ‘guessed that among all their pains he (Frodo) bore the worst, the growing weight of the Ring, a burden on the body and a torment to his mind.’ Twice, he tries to fight Sam off. The second time, ‘A wild light came into Frodo’s eyes. ‘Stand away! Don’t touch me!’ he cried. ‘It is mine, I say. Be off!’ His hand strayed to his sword-hilt. But then quickly his voice changed. ‘No, no, Sam,’ he said sadly. ‘But you must understand. It is my burden, and no one else can bear it. It is too late now, Sam dear. You can’t help me in that way again. I am almost in its power now. I could not give it up, and if you tried to take it I should go mad.’

So we come to Mount Doom -- and to his claiming of the Ring and the final reappearance of Gollum. Frankly, this part always bothered me until recently. But lately, I’ve begun to see just how exciting it is. First off, if Frodo had somehow managed to drop the Ring into the fire himself (as well as trivializing the danger) we would have much more of a straight-forward allegorical tale with him as the central Christological figure. Instead, we have (at least) two other major Christ-type figures, with all of them together contributing to a much fuller, richer glimpse and a tale of marvelous depth and complexity.

Second: initially, Frodo was sent on an almost hopeless errand, not knowing (if he even reached the mountain) how he would ever gain the strength and will-power to destroy the Ring. Yet the conflict isn’t resolved by deux ex machina, either. Gollum was shown mercy over and over again -- by Bilbo, Aragorn, Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, and even Faramir -- all with the idea that he had yet a purpose to fulfill and offering further opportunity for repentance. He was under oath to both Frodo and Faramir against treachery. ‘Then I say to you,’ said Faramir, turning to Gollum, ‘you are under doom of death; but while you walk with Frodo you are safe for our part. Yet if ever you be found by any man of Gondor astray without him, the doom shall fall. And may death find you swiftly, within Gondor or without, if you do not well serve him.’ Frodo had earlier warned him that a similar oath on the Ring would twist him to destruction.

So the mission incredibly succeeds -- succeeds as themes of wisdom and mercy flash brilliantly into focus, and a divine, overarching doom falls. From Sam again, ‘Well, this is the end, Sam Gamgee,’ said a voice by his side. And there was Frodo, pale and worn, and yet himself again, and in his eyes there was a peace now, neither strain of will, nor madness, nor any fear. His burden was taken away. There was the dear master of the sweet days in the Shire. ‘Master!’ cried Sam, and fell upon his knees. In all that ruin of the world for the moment he felt only joy, great joy. The burden was gone. His master had been saved; he was himself again, he was free.’

Here we come to a really interesting point. Frodo had to be saved. Now again in some ways (his burden-bearing for others, the royal temptations he faces, the pain and the anguish, the knife-wound, and the chilling, torturing, death-like experiences, etc.), Frodo can definitely be seen as a Christ-type figure. But -- while all that is absolutely true -- I think it equally true that he could just as well be a picture of us. I’ve also come to the conclusion that, of any of the characters within the story, he might actually best be compared to Boromir. Both are strong and honorable yet stumble at the same temptation, both are saved by grace and repentance (also seeing their actions clearly), and both are treated afterwards as being no less worthy of all honor and respect. And both see something through all the way to the end of their road, though death (in metaphor or reality) lies at the end of it.

Finally, on the slopes of Orodruin, surrounded by spewing flames and shattering earth, Frodo (and Sam) lie prostrate, starving and thirsting. And against all hope they are saved. The eagles come, bearing Gandalf, and they are brought out of fire and death and the tumult of destruction. Awaking in a place of dappled sunlight and cool green shade, they find themselves in the garden of Gondor and in the keeping of the King -- of the King who has tended and saved them -- of the King whose crown Frodo later bears.

Frodo, a richly adopted heir is, in the fullness of time, given and called to a task. A humble being, fighting and winning and losing against temptation (and yet succeeding because of the wisdom and mercy he has learned), he is led by his calling on a path of sufferings and death and darkness. And he is brought out again to glory -- to light and to joy, to a place of fresh raiment and song. Brought with a multitude of others to a place of piercing joy, to ‘regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.’ And to a place where -- crowned with circlets of silver -- he and Sam are led with high praise to seats of honor at the King’s table.

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Thanks for reading -- I'd love to hear your thoughts. :) And again, be sure to check out all the other lovely posts at The Edge of the Precipice!

Faramir // A Character Sketch

It's the 7th Annual Tolkien Week over at Hamlette's The Edge of the Precipice -- YAY! So excited!! 

Note: I first wrote this as a guest post during one of Hamlette's read-alongs a few years ago and she kindly let me repost here for the party. Enjoy and looking forward to hearing your thoughts! (P.S. Most of the pictures in this post are by some talented computer artists courtesy of Google. Make sure to right click on them to see the title and artist. Also, YES. I know it's not the Hobbit here and there aren't any dragons as such in LOTR, but I loved the colors of all these and thought they captured the fear of the Nazgul. So just forestalling any objections. ;D)

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Faramir... I can still remember piecing together who this ‘grave young man’ was ‘whose words seemed so wise and fair’ as my father was reading The Lord of the Rings aloud for the first time (that I can remember, that is). I must have been about eight and I can still remember the thrill when I realized he and Boromir were related.

So many people like Faramir, but what makes him such a wonderful character? (Second note: I haven’t watched the movie, so in the following I’ll be discussing him as he appears in the book.)

When first we meet him in Ithilien, he is both rough and commanding, but his courtesy is soon set beyond a doubt. When interrogating Frodo (much to Sam’s displeasure) he is ‘stern and commanding’ with ‘a keen wit behind a searching glance.’ He says, ‘I do not slay man or beast needlessly, and not gladly even when it is needed. Neither do I talk in vain.’ A man taking time for thought, refusing to act in haste, he is quick and decisive in action. ‘I will not decide in haste what is to be done. Yet we must move hence without more delay.’ He sprang to his feet and issued some orders.’

Weighing his words, he is a truth-teller, ‘I would not snare even an orc with a falsehood.’ He doesn't immediately let out all he knows -- parrying and questioning Frodo before telling what he himself already knew of Boromir -- guarding his words when speaking with his father -- waiting -- knowing what to speak when the time comes ripe; revealing the better part of wisdom.

Faramir seems to have the ‘long-sight’ associated with the blood of Westernesse, for Gandalf says of Denethor, ‘Whatever be his descent from father to son, by some chance the blood of Westernesse runs nearly true in him; as it does in his other son, Faramir... He has long sight. He can perceive, if he bends his will thither, much of what is passing in the minds of men... It is difficult to deceive him, and dangerous to try.’ Earlier, in the cave of Henneth Annûn, ‘Slowly Gollum raised his eyes and looked unwillingly into Faramir’s. All light went out of them, and they stared bleak and pale for a moment into the clear unwavering eyes of the man of Gondor...‘There are locked doors and closed windows in your mind, and dark rooms behind them,’ said Faramir. ‘But in this I judge that you speak the truth.’ Later, first encountering Éowyn, ‘...he was moved with pity, for he saw that she was hurt, and his clear sight perceived her sorrow and unrest.’

Gentle and yet stern, he is patient and long-suffering with the wayward and headstrong -- Boromir, Éowyn, his father. Amazing in how it’s done (especially as it’s understated -- and in Boromir’s case we never see them together), but we never doubt his great love for both father and brother.

A courageous leader, his men give him their love and trust. Beregond says of him, ‘Things may change when Faramir returns. He is bold, more bold than many deem; for in these days men are slow to believe that a captain can be wise and learned in the scrolls of lore and song, as he is, and yet a man of hardihood and swift judgment in the field.’ Éowyn ‘looked at him and saw the grave tenderness in his eyes, and yet knew, for she was bred among men of war, that here was one whom no Rider of the Mark would outmatch in battle.’

In the cave of Henneth Annûn, when the Ring itself comes within his grasp, he withstands its lure, saying, ‘I am wise enough to know that there are some perils from which a man must flee.’ Later Sam says, ‘You took the chance, sir.’ ‘Did I so?’ said Faramir. ‘Yes sir, and showed your quality: the very highest.’ Faramir smiled, ‘...Yet there was naught in this to praise. I had no lure or desire to do other than I have done.’ Perhaps, at first glance, a little disappointing -- we might like him to have more of an internal battle before relinquishing his opportunity -- but in fact, evidence of the highest quality indeed. Authority sits easily on him, but he does not desire ultimate power. He does not desire it because -- above all -- he is a valorous servant.

In his valor and courage, he yet knows weakness and grief. As he lies near death, Aragorn reads his hurt as, ‘Weariness, grief for his father’s mood, a wound, and over all the Black Breath... He is a man of staunch will, for already he had come close under the Shadow before ever he rode to battle on the out-walls. Slowly the dark must have crept on him, even as he fought and strove to hold his outpost.’

Captain of the White Tower -- Steward of Gondor -- a servant of the king and passing through death in his service -- he is healed and brought back to life by that King. ‘Suddenly Faramir stirred... and he looked on Aragorn who bent over him; and a light of knowledge and love was kindled in his eyes, and he spoke softly. ‘My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?’ ‘Walk no more in the shadows, but awake!’ said Aragorn, ‘You are weary. Rest a while, and take food, and be ready when I return.’ ‘I will, lord,’ said Faramir. ‘For who would lie idle when the king has returned?’

Joy, obedience, and valorous service... A wise and daring servant, he is exalted in honor. May we strive to live likewise with the same end in view -- the heart-fulfilling, soul-satisfying commendation of our King.

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More coming later in the week and be sure to check out the party and the rest of the entries over on Hamlette's blog!

New Blog!

Hi one and all!

Lots of Life Stuff has been happening here in the last few weeks, so I'm still finishing up reading (and hopefully commenting!) on all the lovely LOWC posts, but I do have a few other blogger-y things I've been pondering over as well.

#1 -- I don't know if any of you remember the Inklings I used to host over on my author blog, but I'm thinking of bringing it over here to AtB and giving it a fresh start. Thoughts anyone??

#2 -- I've been thinking on this for quite a while and decided to start a couple other main blogging spots. (And if you enjoy AtB don't worry! I'm very fond of everything here as well, so not planning to shut it down anytime soon. ;)) But my daily interests have expanded a lot in the last few years. I don't want to parse my life up too much (or create that impression anyway) but at the same time I'm not sure everyone here will be interested in my new post topics/direction. Plus this'll be a way to just keep things more organized if you will. So finally I decided I'm gonna keep AtB for occasional movie reviews, philosophical ramblings, and sometimes more grown-up book-ish related stuff.

And... I've officially started two new blogs.

The first I put up a few months ago so you might remember it. On Story Bent, a book review blog for picture and chapter books for little people. (And also not so little. ;)) Due to working on LOWC Week shortly after putting it up there's still not much on it, but I'm hoping to have plenty more coming soon.

The second one is currently the very freshest and sparkliest. (And I'm both terribly nervous actually and super excited. :)) Called Angel in the Marble, you can find it HERE (with a slightly different web address, so be sure to take note of that -- the obvious addresses were taken but the name's integral to the whole idea and I tried to keep it easy ;)).

I really look forward to hearing your thoughts and hope you're interested in visiting over there now and again!

Happy Friday!

Why I Love Westerns

"What makes a western? It seems to me that it's not simply that it took place in the western part of the United States, nor is it big hats and peacemakers and horses. I mean, all of those are elements, certainly, but what makes a western a western to me is that you lack the recourse of civilization to work out whatever the problem is, and therefore characters must work out the dilemmas for themselves."

~ Walter Hill ~

So, why do I love westerns?
 
Well, it all goes so deep. Not to be cliche, but deep right down past the soles of my boots and into the soil itself.

There's the epic-ness and the grandeur; which is all part and parcel of my love for the western land itself, with all the varieties that entails. The high outcroppings. The sun coming up and slanting long, or turning to a golden haze at sunset through the pine trees. The western grass that grows long and green and turns to that special wispy crunch by high summer. Mountains, snow drifts, aspens, and high altitude pines growing short, stubborn, and twisted against the wind. And smoothly rounded rocks and fast rushing water. Thinking back, I can definitely say my love for the landscape first spurred my love of westerns as such. We didn't watch many (as in any at all really) when I was little, but we did drive back and forth across the wide open spaces. So then when I started delving into all the delights of western film, it was a natural (and very fast) progression. A peopling of those wide spreading places. ;)

Through it all there's a bigger-than-life sort of feel, but yet it's REAL. And so when it comes to story (book or film) whether or not each and every story (of the excellent ones anyway) is completely and utterly historically accurate to the very last iota -- doesn't really worry me. It's like the knightly tales of honor and daring. It's what Tolkien was trying to do for England in Lord of the Rings. It's the stuff of true myth and legend. The stuff of which heart stories are made.

"The English have Shakespeare, the French have Moliere, the Russians have Chekov, the Argentines, have Borges, but the Western is ours--from Canada down to the Mexican border."

 ~ Robert Duvall ~

As for the men of this wild western landscape… (and the women as well I suppose, but let's not take on too many things at once) whether or not they like the challenges -- or even the land itself -- it still shapes who they are, irrevocably. It dyes them in the weave.

(In the following, I wanna make it clear I do not think you have to be in or from the west to identify with and have a deep passion for your calling, so let's just be clear on that.)

Now I'm not romanticizing here, as I'm thrilled to be married to such a man myself (which personal experience has led to a lot of these cogitations and this particular light bulb moment), but in whatever capacity -- rancher, lawman, homesteader, trapper, cowboy, railroad baron, etc. -- the calling and occupation of the men of the wild frontier country is integral to their very identity. (My western man, for instance, who's a business owner dealing with emergency communications, would have owned the telegraph company; really a very apt comparison. :)) But it's who they are. And they're proud of it.

And generally (in the stories I tend to love anyway) they naturally tend to have a very defined vision of life -- principles they live by, compromises they’re unwilling to make. And they follow through on those with dogged, sticky tenacity. They’re the protagonists I love rooting for and it’s WHY I love rooting for them.

They’re taking dominion and -- even on a regular, run-of-the-mill, ordinary week -- the stakes are real, and they're ginormous. Whether or not they carry a gun (and whether they can even be a real western man without one, or under what circumstances that might happen, is a discussion for another time), but their days are played out with live ammo.

You say what you mean and you mean what you say, or take the consequences. Who you stand with and what you fight for matters. Loyalty matters. (“Whose side you on, boy?”) There's no room for dithering about. It's a world of manly men who (while they can be the deep, complex, strong silent type) are bold and forthright when they do speak. Men who are confident and secure enough in their own opinions to joke and rib each other.

So there're the recurring themes of treachery and loyalty; and who has your back. Along with this, the man-to-man friendships aren’t soppy. They’re gritty and real and often forged under fire. These men are strong and courageous, and if they're not, they face down the fear.

(The view out my dining room this morning. <3)

Truth be told, I’m a western girl through and through. The Tetons and Yellowstone country are my happy place. Sagebrush and Ponderosa pines can make me cry. There’s a mounted antelope head above our couch that’s one of my favorite things about our living room. Gun belts and saddles and well-worn slouch hats and the sound of horse hooves pounding are signs of thrilling adventure.

In the westerns I love things can get dark -- there can be a lot of sweat and blood and tears and hard work and tragedy by times -- but it's all worth it. Because the other side of it all is magnificent and breathtaking -- full of lovely, incredible, heart-stopping heroism and tales of epic redemption and good gifts. And surrounding all of it -- running through every story -- is the whole rich, alluring, wide spreading land itself, a world to tame and conquer and be fruitful and run wild in.

It's beautiful!

Book Review // The Read-Aloud Family by Sarah Mackenzie

This book is SO good. At first, for some ridiculous and (somewhat) unknown reason, I was dreading it’d be tedious and/or some sort of guilt trip, but I needn’t have worried. Once I started I gobbled it up in about two days (while camping in NV’s Black Rock Desert ;)). It’s straight up encouraging and inspiring and do-able. Everyone should read it and it’s definitely one every parent particularly should have stashed on their shelf. Or even better, out somewhere where it’s getting dog-eared and tripped over and referenced often.

The scope of the book covers various statistical points (on the importance of reading aloud and story in the life of a child both as regards education and development, etc.), but even more, it’s on shaping hearts and minds, building family bonds, shared history, and loyalty, and engendering a wide-awake, sprawling, deep vision of the world. Also (and especially helpful) lots of friendly, relaxed, down-to-earth, excellently unpreachy, from-the-trenches tips and ideas for how to actually go about it in a busy household. I don’t want to give away too many of the meaty bits or her excellent points, but here are a few gems:

“Fiction and nonfiction stories provide children of all ages an opportunity to experience what it feels like to be overwhelmed, struggle, fight, overcome, and emerge a hero. …When we read aloud, we give our kids practice living as heroes. Practice dealing with life-and-death situations, practice living with virtue, practice failing at virtue. As the characters in our favorite books struggle through hardship, we struggle with them. We consider whether we would be as brave, as bold, as fully human as our favorite heroes. And then we grasp—on a deeper, more meaningful level—the story we are living ourselves as well as the kind of character we will become as that story unfolds.”

“When I read a story with my children… the fog lifts, and I remember. I look up. I see it—that I am only one small part of a great, big, glorious world, and that the Maker of it exists—and has existed—always. That we are all part of His plan. That we have been invited to seek and follow Him, no matter what the situation. The book becomes a set of supercharged binoculars, helping us to see beyond our normal capacity.

“A story does this on its own without our having to say a word about it. Forget the whiteboard. Forget the didactic lesson. Forget the teaching points or the comprehension worksheets. When we’re telling our children the story of Jesus healing Jairus’s daughter, of curing the lepers, of raising Lazarus from the dead, we don’t need to wrap up the story with a trite explanation about how God is powerful, good, or merciful. We don’t have to add anything at all, because there it is—truth bubbling up out of the story. It is the story. When God pours down manna from the heavens, a child doesn’t need to be told that he will provide what we need right when we need it and not a moment before. We simply read the story, and our children feel the truth of it in their bones. This happens with true stories that are literal accounts (such as stories within the Gospels, or historical narratives), as well as true stories that aren’t meant to be literal at all (such as a myth or fairy tale).”

Plus, she’s got a plethora of tingly quotes tucked all throughout. Like this nugget:

“Fairy tales say that apples are golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found out they were green. They make rivers run with wine only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that they run with water.” G.K. Chesterton.

Or this one:

“When she was hardly more than a girl, Miss Minnie had gone away to a teacher’s college and prepared herself to teach by learning many cunning methods that she never afterward used. For Miss Minnie loved children and she loved books, and she taught merely by introducing the one to the other.” Wendell Berry, Watch with Me

Good, eh? Now off ye go to check it out and be sure to let me know what you think! ;)

On Easter Baskets and the Concrete Reality of the Resurrection

(First off, I’ve been watching a lot of Jeeves and Wooster lately, so certain phrases keep bubbling to the surface. Consider y’selves forewarned.)

Let's jump right in.

I’ve been thinking about Easter a lot. As a church festival I feel it often has a way of falling by the wayside the slightest bit. But as Protestants to the backbone, who believe in joyously hearty feast days and letting the church calendar (chronicling major events in the life of Christ specifically) shape our days and souls, there’s a rich mine here to be explored. It's like Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Easter, leading to the culmination of Ascension Day and ultimately rounding out with Pentecost -- are each a golden jewel, strung perfectly together, each lending fuller meaning and deeper understanding to the others. We need Christmas -- with its celebration of the full Godhead and humanity of Christ, the Light breaking into the darkness, pointing from the very beginning to the Cross -- and we need Easter, Christ's vindication and full rising in the flesh.

Yet while Easter’s a tremendous culmination, I’ve been puzzling over why it feels more ethereal than the others. Of all of the events it’s the most startling. The disciples were stunned and downright terrified. The earth quaked, a huge boulder rolled, rough blood stained Roman soldiers lay knocked out. All of this is a far cry from cutesiness.

Resurrection. New life. New creation. A restoration to the garden of Eden. Ezekiel’s river running out of the new temple and the entire world becoming a garden. Lucy’s loveliest of lovely stories in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is something like it -- for the refreshment of the spirit. Or like the moment when Shasta bends to drink clear spring water from Aslan’s paw print.

“…after one glance at the Lion’s face he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn’t say anything but then he didn’t want to say anything, and he knew he needn’t say anything.

“The High King above all kings stooped towards him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the mane, was all round him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly the pale brightness of the mist and the fiery brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and disappeared. He was alone with the horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing.

“…‘Was it all a dream?’ wondered Shasta. But it couldn’t have been a dream for there in the grass before him he saw the deep, large print of the Lion’s front right paw. It took one’s breath away to think of the weight that could make a footprint like that. But there was something more remarkable than the size about it. As he looked at it, water had already filled the bottom of it. Soon it was full to the brim, and then overflowing, and a little stream was running downhill, past him, over the grass.

“Shasta stooped and drank -- a very long drink -- and then dipped his face in and splashed his head. It was extremely cold, and clear as glass, and refreshed him very much. After that he stood up, shaking the water out of his ears and flinging the wet hair back from his forehead, and began to take stock of his surroundings.”

I’m not directly equating Narnia and Easter at the moment, but it’s making me think more on the tone I want to foster in our home. Through all responding to the lavish goodness of God. Mystery, passion, wonder, and intense love.

And so now we get to the presents. If all our feast days are celebrating Christ’s tangible coming in the flesh, then I think (somewhere) there should be presents. And if Easter is a culmination in and of itself, snowballing to more and more glories, we need to think how to live this out in real earnest.

The world really doesn’t know how to embody the feast day. Because there’s no Santa Claus etc., from what I’ve read it tends to get lumped in more with the likes of Valentines Day. So we get left with people doing all sorts of rather confused buying, egg hunts, and Easter baskets.

I’ve never been crazy about Easter baskets. Not that there’s anything wrong with the colorful things. It’s just kinda hard to get super excited about plastic eggs and chocolate flavored candies. (Bitter, I know. Acerbic even. ;)) It’s not particularly even the whole goddesses and pagan bunnies thing (though of course that’s an issue). It’s that it’s all too cute. We do emphatically believe God created all the sweet, cuddly things of creation -- puppies and kittens and bunnies and downy ducklings. But when it comes to the great church festivals, I think we must be militantly beware of cuteness. (We can use it, we should just be very certain why we’re doing it.)

I’ve quoted this from The Christian Imagination before, but it’s worth highlighting again: “To many North Americans… Christianity seems soppy. That is because they have not seen the real goods. True Christian imaging meets violence head-on, mine and the world’s, but also God’s. The Christian imagination… must face the reality of Job’s cry, the cry of God’s crucifixion, and of our participation in it. Once this is recognized, faith becomes not only possible, but necessary; it can never again be rose-water belief in Santa Claus.”

So back to the presents.

First off, we’re not talking about breaking the bank. They can be homemade. Or maybe the Christmas budget could be adjusted and some of the gifts saved for Easter. And (if you watch how many things come in your house) this can still have a minimal approach as well. It’s in choosing things very intentionally.

When it comes to children particularly, and thinking on our new white garb in Christ, I love the idea of a new spring/summer church dress for girls. This could work just as well (and might carry nice emphasis) with new pants and a shirt for the little guys too. And this could fit right in too with a smaller, manageable wardrobe. They just wait to get their new things till Easter and then wear them consistently thereafter.

It can be something they need. (One sweet YouTuber mom I've enjoyed watching suggests giving their new swim outfit for the year.) Or a beautiful picture book. Or perhaps something children will share (new play dough or some sort of play set etc, etc). If you’re into games, maybe a new card or board game for the entire family. The idea is to give appropriate weight to it. And (this is a thought experiment) but thinking through the wrapping and presentation. Something wrapped up is most definitely a present -- a surprise. (Or on the other hand maybe an entirely different approach. There’re all sorts of creative presentation ideas out there. The idea is to think on it.)
 
So there ye are!

I’d really love to hear all your thoughts and if you’re interested in a follow up (including what the Little Princess is receiving this year along with a few home decorations and other ideas) let me know and I’ll try and whip my ideas into some sort of shortish crystallized word form. ;)

Have a lovely evening one and all!

Book Review // For the Children’s Sake: Foundations of Education for Home and School by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay

This work comes from Francis Schaeffer’s daughter as she builds on and provides a warm, impassioned introduction to the works of Charlotte Mason, a wonderful educator and teacher with a vision for vibrant, Biblical, cultural change in the late 19th-early 20th centuries. Mason's philosophy isn't caught up in some sort of rosy bubble, out of touch with the shifting sands of a post-Christian world. To quote:

“Nor is a social revolution the only one pending. There is a horror of great darkness abroad, Christianity is on its trial; and more than that, the most elementary belief in, and worship of, Almighty God. The judgment to come, the resurrection of the body, the life everlasting,--these fundamental articles of a Christian’s faith have come to be pooh-poohed; and this, not only among profane persons and ungodly livers, but amongst people of reputation both for goodness and wisdom. And how are the young to be prepared to meet this religious crisis? In the first place, it is unwise to keep them in the dark as to the anxious questions stirring.” Macaulay quoting Mason, pp. 96

(Note, in the following I’m not really analyzing the method itself so much as reviewing this particular presentation of it, so by extension I’m presupposing some familiarity with her overarching approach/ideas. 😊)

Also, let me say right off the bat that many of the principles can be applied no matter what educational method you prefer. And it’s not just for parents and teachers. As Christ followers, we are to have a tender heart for overlooked, needy children all round us. Sometimes they just need one person in their life (be it uncle, aunt, grandparent, neighbor etc.) to come alongside, throwing open windows to the world and really listening to them. Even if the child is in a God-fearing, loving household, there can be all sorts of opportunities to come alongside and serve. There’s a lot of work to be done and we need to roll up our sleeves and figure out where we’ve been called to jump in.

I do love this approach for its respect of children as persons, made in God’s image. It’s big picture, it’s about raising thinkers, and it’s tremendously helpful in its integral approach (taking into consideration the simultaneous maturation of the child’s heart, mind, and body) in raising children who not only think outside little categorical boxes, but are unafraid to step out courageously in the pursuit of truth and virtue. Of course, every good, serious-minded Christian parent is heartily seeking the same goal, but Charlotte Mason’s ideas (with their strong emphasis on narration and storytelling, the tremendous -- never to be underestimated -- importance of play, the warm parent-child relationship, etc.) does seem to foster a very particular love of learning, an internalizing of the materials, of making broad connections, and finally a deep, vivid understanding of the world.

I love it’s imagery of spreading a feast before the little ones and then guiding them in delving in. Now (to pause a moment), this is where I think the methodology could be misinterpreted (i.e. that we’re to let the child run riot on the loaded table without direction or supervision), but if you stop and think about it the image is perfect. The table is groaning with good things, but there is still an ordered approach to feasting. Table manners must be learned. And properly understood (not applied with an iron fist) table manners lead to rich enjoyment. The focus becomes delight in the feast.

There are a few points in the book I don’t implicitly agree with (though honestly, at this point I can’t specify whether they’re Mason’s or Macaulay’s). And it’s not even that I disagree particularly with her conclusions or the underlying philosophy per se. The biggest one is I’d like to have seen a balancing section on the role of church authority and community in a child’s life (and by extension, leading into adulthood). I think the philosophy itself harmoniously fits with a proper understanding, but since it wasn’t expounded on it leaves a (very probably unintended) slightly lopsided presentation, specifically if someone set out to deliberately extrapolate some sort of autonomous individuality out of it. Again, I have to read Mason’s books themselves, but I’m pretty positive she would have concurred with the dangers of postmodern individualism. She was just operating under a very different society/community structure, which -- even if it was becoming the mere vestiges of the mighty cathedral it once was -- had yet been a robustly Christian framework. Mason (and Macaulay) are both vividly aware of the undermining of the entirety of Christian culture (in fact, that’s rather the whole point). So I don’t think it’s anything to do with the understanding or philosophy of either, just a slight imbalance in this particular book. And to be fair, Macaulay is also stressing/underlining the importance of acknowledging the personhood of each one of our children as God’s unique creation over against the wild errors in that regard running rampant in our modern world. So maybe it’s just a bit of overcompensation going on. It’s very slight too, so how much it jumps out at you probably also depends on the particular battle you’re fighting and your frame of reference.

I (might) also disagree in a couple small areas of application, but they aren’t really worth expounding on at the moment, as one of the great strengths of the whole approach to begin with is flexibility – which fits hand-in-glove with understanding and acknowledging the particular God-given calling of each family.

Sin is very real, and no one approach/method, especially if applied without discernment, is guaranteed to create all gladness and light (which I’m sure Mason understood). There is always the need for discipleship and discipline, with understanding. We must take the time to understand the child, know the heart of the child -- leading the little lambs back to their Shepherd, pointing them to Christ time and time again.

We are called to be Christ-centric. Not parent or child or even family-centric. Each has a hugely important, weighty, and glorious calling. But Christ and His kingdom must be the focus and center, and everything else falls into its proper place.

Our covenant children are little saints (born sinners under the same sun as us) given to us to bring alongside, training as warriors. The goal is mature children (not little adults -- we are called to guard their tender hearts in the process), but mature at each and every stage, right all the way up into adulthood. We’re all in this together. And we’re in the business of sharpening arrows.

"Let us save Christianity for our children by bringing them into allegiance to Christ, the King. How? How did the old Cavaliers bring up sons and daughters, in passionate loyalty and reverence for not too worthy princes? Their own hearts were full of it; their lips spake it; their acts proclaimed it; the style of their clothes, the ring of their voices, the carriage of their heads--all was one proclamation of boundless devotion to their king and his cause. . . what shall we say of 'the Chief among ten thousand, the altogether lovely'?" Macaulay quoting Mason, pp. 94

So beautiful…

As a final note, I’m doing this review slightly backwards as (if you’re new to Charlotte Mason’s ideas or just getting into them), there are a couple other titles I might recommend first, making this a kind of second, deeper introduction. That being said, it’s definitely a foundational educational classic with which to be acquainted and (if your library doesn’t have it) well worth purchasing for ongoing future reference. I can see myself reading it again in a few years and can already tell certain sections will be helpful to reread many times down the road. 😊

Hoping you're all having a lovely Saturday!

~Heidi

Have you ever heard of Charlotte Mason? I'd love to hear in the comments!

A reread -- and always invigorating

Loving these quotes today, all from the same source:
 
"Know something about the world, and by this I mean the world outside of books. This might require joining the Marines, or working on an oil rig or as a hashslinger at a truck stop in Kentucky. Know what things smell like out there. If everything you write smells like a library, then your prospective audience will be limited to those who like the smell of libraries."

"Real life duties should be preferred over real life tourism."

"Authenticity in writing will only arise from authenticity in living."

"Enjoy yourself. If you enjoy what you are living, you will enjoy writing about it. ...Writing is a form of teaching, even when it is not being didactic in some formal kind of way. And the most contagious form of teaching is when an instructor loves his material in the presence of others -- whom he also loves."

-- Wordsmithy by Douglas Wilson

Also, a big thank you to all who replied to my last post(!) and if you haven't been able to read it yet here's the link. Your input's much appreciated! ;)

~ Heidi