A Study in Heroism, Part 1: The Grey Havens and Broken Hearts

A STUDY IN HEROISM: THE EPIC AND THE MUNDANE
is a three-part essay exploring our experience of heroic stories, and
cultivating an appreciation of inspirational, epic stories in a way
that invigorates the way we approach our own lives.

PART 1 OF 3

Recently I bought and watched the HBO Miniseries John Adams starring the astounding Paul Giamatti, who looks appropriately fierce for the promo photo even through in most of the mini-series he appears far less—how shall I say—majestic. The general feeling of John Adams character for most of the series is that of a bull-headed ass, nose to the ground and feet churning with no regard to anything but his own momentum and destination. But I am willing to overlook his personality defects, especially in the first half of the series.

I was most captivated by the opening half of the series, and it somewhat saddened me when I realized that at one specific point my excitement began to dissipate. Usually in circumstances like that I attribute it to a loss of the storytelling quality—as in Heroes Season 2, you can actually feel the scene where the writer's strike started and it all goes downhill from there. I had the same initial thought about John Adams, that once the Revolutionary War ended halfway through the series it lost a huge part of the appeal to me; I thought this was the story of how Adams helped found America and it felt like everything after that victory was a closing scene dragged out for six hours more than necessary. But, looking back I realize that in this case my loss of appreciation was due to my own expectations and demands of what I wanted to be entertained by, instead of giving myself to the story.

What makes the opening so excitable for me is this fact; here are a dozen men—or I should say we only relate to a dozen men of a larger group—who started a nation. Today, we meet in coffee shops and swanky bars and talk small business ideas, internet business opportunities, or get excited about "New Product Glorious". These are men who, when they met in a bar, talked about how they wanted their new country to be run. They, knowing the treasonous consequences awaiting them if they failed, lay down their safety, lively-hoods, and lives in belief of the quality of their dream.

In that environment, John Adams' stubbornness and idealism were the stuff of legend and inspiration. I watched him and thought to myself what I wouldn't give to be able to place myself next to men such as that; men who would have the courage to speak the truth that has landed in their gut with vigor and determination. What wouldn't I give to have an utter belief that I have the chance to lay my hand to a task which will change the path of all history to follow. What man doesn't feel this desire? What man doesn't watch movies such as Braveheart or Gladiator and have something inside of him stir like a sleeping giant. I wonder how many men take walks in the snow after watching movies like that as I do; wondering whether their lives will ever be worthy to be told as a story to young boys.

When I read my old journals I wonder what happened to that old dreamer who looked upon the future with such bright eyes, who actually believed that the impossible was worth hunting after. He wasn't the brightest about how he went after his dreams and his love, but I have to admire his determination. Sometimes I wish I could meet the man who writes my journals. I think he lives in a different world, where the responsibilities that weigh on me are foreign concepts. Would I tell him about the pain he will face? I look back and think how young, how immature he was, but when I read what that kid wrote I wonder if we were to meet if I would be the one to walk away feeling like the inflated shadow of a better man. I wonder what happened to that man, where is he now....


Another story that prods the giants hibernating in my heart is J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. When I think of Middle-Earth I assume the culmination of the story happens when the Ring is destroyed but for me the most emotional part of that story happens after the victory is won and the story fades into the 'ever after'. The hobbits return home to find the Shire a desolate land imprisoned by the same evil that they thought was defeated miles away on Mount Doom. This is one my favorite chapters in all of the books, 'The Scouring of the Shire'. The Hobbits must battle evil without the aid of Aragorn, Gandalf, the mighty men of valour or elves. And it is wonderful when they succeed and to hear the story of how the Shire was won back, and the hobbits once again lead the lives they had before they knew what a Ring-wraith was.

But the story doesn't end there. Years after returning, Frodo still feels the wound in his heart given to him on Weathertop by the Witch-King of Agmar, the old enemy of the Northern Lands (who knows there Middle-Earth Mythology? I do). Frodo has conquered, evil has been defeated, both abroad and at home but he is unable to live content in the shire. He still hurts, "some wounds never heal." Even after all the battles have been won and the trees bloom again a part of him never regains the innocence and peace he has fought so hard for. Frodo still has to take his path to the Grey Havens and leave Middle-Earth forever.

This part of the story is one of the most heart-wrenching things I have ever meditated on. Was the victory worth it for Frodo? We expect and accept that the journey to Mordor was painful and costly, but what of the cost afterwards? Is victory worth attaining when it leaves you unable to rest in even the company of close friends afterwards? If I conclude that life is truly like Middle-Earth, I find it very hard to overcome the tragedy of that permanent wound that drives Frodo away from all that and who he once held dear to his heart.

'Your time may come. Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do.'

'But,' said Sam, and tears started in his eyes, 'I thought you were going to enjoy the Shire, too. For years and years, after all you have done.'

'So I thought too, once. But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them. But you are my heir: all that I had and might have had I leave to you.'

I have been given sight of the greatest truth of all time, that the Kingdom of God is forcefully advancing, and that I have the great joy of being a beloved son in that Kingdom, that I have a part to play in that most noble story. I honour the fact that my devotion to that end will take the surrender of my soul, that it will ask me to be willing to subjugate my flesh to the fire and the tar and the toil. It may cost me all that I own, it may steal from me the joy of marriage, of fatherhood. It may separate me by miles upon miles from those friends that I hold most dear to me but God has told me the greatest secret of all creation, and it is a consolation to my desperate soul. This is God's great promise to me: that He shall come again and all things, even me, shall be whole for years and years, that evil will never again be allowed to steal so much from me ever again, that it does not require the ruination of my soul forevermore.

And so it is to that end that I place all of my hope and my desperate longing, that Jesus is not one who would lie to me; that when all is finished that I shall count all things as worthy to pursue that glorious promise of my Lord. Let my heart yearn, let it break upon the rocks and be spilled out to the fulfillment of that day, for I desire the joy of that moment. But until that day comes, I count myself immeasurably blessed that I am not alone in this path, that I am surrounded by good and trusted friends. Friends that I can call on, who can call on me. And if by my fight and by my loss I can help secure the peace desired for them by my Lord, let it be so. May my heart always be set to this.