Tolkien’s masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings, has been a theological guide and companion in my life for many years. Hidden in the descriptions of the sleepy hillsides, dramatic mountainscapes, and vast plains, I found clues to better understand Christian cosmology. Within the complex and captivating characters who weave through the narrative I’ve found insight into Christian virtue. But it is Tom Bombadil in particular who has come to my mind recently - and for a perhaps unlikely reason. I have found his uses of power instructive both in my wrestling with how to be a Christian today, and in learning to work with draft animals. I’ll invite you along with me on an adventure/bashing/quest that explores the idea that Tom’s greatest power is “being indomitable,” and that his example provides support and instruction for Christians engaged with the world in the 21st century. 

Tom first appears in The Fellowship of the Ring when the hobbits are trapped in the clutches of Old Man Willow. When he hears of the trouble, Tom responds by exclaiming, “Old Man Willow?...I know the tune for him. I’ll freeze his marrow cold, if he don’t behave himself.” (Fellowship, 120) Tom’s ability to “know the tunes” for different beings comes in handy again a few pages later when the hobbits are in mortal danger with the Barrow-wights. After singing the wights into oblivion, Tom reminds the hobbits of who they are by singing in a “clear and commanding voice: Wake now my merry lads! Wake and hear me calling! Warm now be heart and limb!” (143). This is the first way Tom embodies indomitability. He sees a being for what it is, and lets the other know that he sees them for who they are. 

Tolkien is drawing on rich scriptural reflections on the power of naming. Everything from Adam’s naming of creatures in the garden, to Peter’s stumbling out the answer to Jesus’ question “Who do you say that I am?” communicates the power of naming - of seeing another and being seen. Just so, every creature has a desire to be seen and a joy or satisfaction when seen. This is the same for me, you, your dog, cat, or a 5,000 pound team of oxen pulling a forecart loaded with timber. My mentor says that the key to working with any animal is to let them “see you seeing them.” A working team of horses, mules, donkeys, or oxen get great pride from having a request made of them and being able to complete it to the satisfaction of the teamster. If I ask them to turn left and then walk forward, and then they do so, they are rewarded with a rest, communicating to them that they have done what I’ve asked. When I ask them to turn left and walk forward and I don’t communicate clearly, they can get confused and frustrated - they know that we’re not seeing each other and it bothers them. Our ability to work together depends on my ability to let them know that I’m seeing them follow my requests...or not follow them, as the case may be. This desire to see and be seen, to have our names known and used, is woven throughout creation. It is a truth that Tom Bombadil knows well. 

The ability to name another has a prerequisite. One must first know oneself. This is quite clearly the case for Tom Bombadil (and it should be crystal clear to the teamster as well!). When he’s not leaping and frolicking, Tom’s most frequent action is naming himself in front of others. He begins singing at the Barrow wights with “Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow...none has ever caught him yet, for Tom, he is the master: His songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster.” (142) Gandalf lifts this quality of Tom’s up to those gathered at the Council of Elrond. Erestor asks, “Could we not still send messages to [Tom] and obtain his help?...It seems that he has a power even over the Ring.” To which Gandalf responds decisively, “No I should not put it so...Say rather that the Ring has no power over him. He is his own master. But he cannot alter the Ring itself, nor break its power over others.” (265) Tom Bombadil is so entirely Himself that the ring of power is insignificant to him.

Tom’s indomitable power through self-revelation and naming has surfaced in my life in perhaps the most unlikely creatures imaginable: Lucky, a 2,500 lb ox, Marvelous, a 3,000 lb ox, and Carl, a human person who works with the oxen to haul lumber from wood lots to his saw mill. Using a ½ inch thick, 18 inch piece of wood with a strip of leather attached to the end of it, his voice, posture, and intention, I have seen Carl move this team of oxen exactly where he wants them. Each foot placed perfectly where he wants it without yelling, bribing, or questions from “the boys.” Imagine barreling down a snowy hillside with 5,000 lbs of oxen, and at least twice as many pounds of timber crashing less than a foot behind you, and never worrying if they will be able to stop when they need to. It seems to me that this power that can stop all of that momentum, or sing a Barrow Wight to sleep are one and the same, and can best be described as “indomitability.”

There is no way to force an animal that is so much larger and stronger than a human to do something unless it decides to. When a team of oxen approach a steep hill, the person must determine the proper application of break chains, speed, rest, and the right angle of approach to avoid a dangerous situation. The oxen need to know “turn left,” “stop,” “turn right,” “go,” and they must be eager to comply. The important thing here (in addition to happy animals) is that in order for the oxen to feel safe, they need to know that someone is in charge of the herd - that someone has a plan. Otherwise they will decide it’s up to them, and generally they’re less able to see the big picture, as it were. The teamsters job then is to set an intention and invite the team to follow it confidently and without acquiescing to the team’s attempt to push back against the agenda (because wouldn’t it be nice if we all just sat down and chewed on this scraggly branch of maple poking up through the snow!?). This is not about dominating another being, or exerting raw power over someone else, but about each participant functioning in their best role - about each participant knowing its own self. The person is able to solve complex problems that involve multiple steps, and the oxen are able to pull. A lot. It does no service to the oxen to pretend that they are in control of the situation, and in fact it is dangerous to do so. A well balanced team frees each of the partners to be exactly who they are in all of their particularity. And this, of course, brings me right back to Christian theology. 

It reminds me daily of the beautiful paradox that in giving up the self, one finds oneself in Christ. Knowing oneself as a beloved Son, Daughter, or Child of the King is a type of self-declaration that reveals a truth about both the person doing the declaring and names all of the parties involved in the seeing. It is the truth that the oxen (along with Tolkien!) have taught me to speak to them: I am a Beloved Child of God, seeing you who are a Beloved Child of God, and therefore I am asking this “place your left foot over this log, back up your front end a smidge” etc. It is a revealing of one to the other of true self-hood, which both Tom Bombadil and the teamster know well, and ultimately reveals the root of all names in the One great Name spoken before the beginning of time.