A few nights ago, I sat down into the worn blue chair crammed into the corner of my sons’ bedroom, and opened the book. The radiator hissed softly, and Philadelphia’s night skyline stretched across the window to my right. My boys’ bunkbed lurches and creaks as they burrow into their blankets.

Over the last year or so, we’ve begun reading our way through J.R.R. Tolkein’s epic Lord of the Rings trilogy, and we’ve almost finished the first book, The Fellowship of the Ring. In our recent evening reading, the hobbit Frodo Baggins and the rest of the Company are on their quest to destroy the evil Ring of Power, and they’ve journeyed into the elvish kingdom of Lothlorien. While resting there briefly, Frodo meets the Lord and Lady of the elves, and Galadriel (the Lady of Lorien) tells Frodo of their long resistance to the creeping Shadow of evil. She admits that over the years, they’ve been losing their forest lands, bit by bit, to Sauron (the Dark Lord), but that they’ve gone on fighting anyway. As Galadriel holds Frodo’s gaze, she tells the Company of how “together through the ages of the world we have fought the long defeat.”

Our finest authors write so that even repeated re-readings yield new gifts, and that’s how I experience Tolkein’s work. I’ve read The Lord of the Rings several times now, but that line seized me in a way I’d never noticed before.

We have fought the long defeat.

This line summarized Tolkein’s view of history and the shape of Christian hope, and he himself identified with Galadriel. Describing himself once in a letter, he wrote, “Actually I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect ‘history’ to be anything but a ‘long defeat’— though it contains (and in legend may contain more clearly and movingly) some samples or glimpses of final victory.”

But sitting in that canvas chair this week, I experienced that line in a manner more close to home. Because any life in Christian ministry, any life that serves God’s kingdom, any life that follows Jesus will sometimes feel like a slow, aching defeat.

You don’t need to be a minister, or any kind of Christian, for long to experience this.

You’re a social worker, and a beloved client relapses — again.

You spend long, lonely hours preparing a sermon, praying and writing and rewriting, and deliver it to blank stares and a few yawns.

You accepted a call to a church a few years ago, and arrived with big ideas, lots of passion, dreams of what could be. But attendance is plateaued, a few congregants are grumbling, and you wonder how much difference you’re really making.

You’ve counseled a couple for two years now, but can’t figure out how to get them out of the self-sabotaging pattern afflicting their marriage.

You pray and pray for a friend, a spouse, a neighbor — and they don’t change, don’t get better, don’t heal.

You pastor a couple for years — you marry them, baptize their kids, pray with them — and then, without warning, they turn on you.

The long defeat.

Here’s the thing: as the story unfolds, Lady Galadriel and her elven kin actually provide invaluable gifts to the Company for their journey, and wind up aiding in a final victory they never would have thought imaginable when in the middle of their faithful struggle.

Being January, this is the time of year when the internet buzzes with listicles of what resolutions will reshape you into the more-fit, more put-together, more stress-free version of yourself in 2020.

If much of that rings hollow to you too right now, here’s an alternative New Years’ proposal: in 2020, resolve to fight the long defeat. Preach the Gospel, even when it doesn’t seem like anything is happening. Pray, even when answers aren’t immediate. Teach, counsel, advocate — even when you’re not sure how much good you’re doing. Love your people, even after some of them hurt you.

Because, who knows? Who knows what generative gifts you might actually have to give? Who knows what surprising glimpses of victory the strange providence of God might have planned?

Jared Ayers

Jared Ayers is a minister in the Reformed Church in America. From 2008-2019, he was the founding and senior minister of Liberti Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He currently serves in a consulting role with the American Bible Society, working on helping people to engage with Scripture in the post-Christian global West. He and Monica have been married for 15 years, and have been graced with two sons and a daughter.

9 Comments

  • Daniel J Meeter says:

    Wise words.

  • Brian Keepers says:

    Thank you, Jared. These words speak to my heart, and are a great source of encouragement.

  • Nancy Ryan says:

    Thank you! This is true and invites a renewed hope.

  • Scott Hoezee says:

    Nicely composed and so very apt. Thank you!

  • Karl VanDyke says:

    The Long Defeat, life without Christ. In science this is entropy, a continuous increase of chaos, a path to hopelessness unless acted upon by a power outside the system.
    .
    The examples apply to my life in various situations, brought to a head in the death of 5 friends this fall. Without the hope of resurrection it is all vanity, nothing, except we know not what God will do with our efforts. Perhaps we have provided helpful gifts unaware. Life is a struggle against the dark but my hope is that in some way I can spread the light of Epiphany to someone’s darkness, so help me God.

  • Beautifully said. Thank you. I have long since forgotten how many times I have read The Lord of the Rings in my almost 70 years.

    The Silmarillion makes the long defeat – and the ultimate hope all the more poignant. “Do not value overmuch the work of your hands.”

  • RLG says:

    Interesting article, Jared. The “long defeat.” “We have fought the long defeat.” I think your analogy is misguided though. Even though ministry may seem like a long and tiring battle, the battle you describe and that most of us see is a battle within. It’s not the enemy out there that you mostly describe but a battle of Christian brothers and sisters fighting against each other, all in the name of Christ. And such battle from within is clearly leading to a long defeat. How many Christian denominations have split into multiple denominations with hard feelings and even hatred between the split parties. Historically, how many wars have been fought over Christian and religious differences? How many Christian Republicans hate or dislike Christian Democrats and vice versa, while all claiming a love for Jesus Christ? How many church members distrust fellow church members and believe the other is hurting the church family, while they themselves are true to Christ? How many church members think the pastor is showing favoritism toward certain members or groups within the church, and it may be time for him/her to go. How many members think the pastor is preaching his own hobby horses, even while following the lectionary or the catechism? How much gossip is taking place within the church body of Christ?

    I think the war within the church, within the ranks, is probably greater than the war without and is doing more damage to the church than any enemy on the outside has done. And if anyone with a little common sense can look at the larger picture, there isn’t much hope for the church in the future, at least in our Western culture. The church has been shooting itself in the foot, the arm, the shoulder, and the stomach for a long time. It won’t be long before it shoots itself in the heart. Jared, you have perhaps described the war, but unlike “The Lord of the Rings,” the enemy is its own self.

  • Cathy Smith says:

    I loved this post. Love Tolkien. Preach on, Jared. My heart is uplifted again by this good news. “With deeds of love and mercy, the heavenly kingdom comes.” (Lead On, O King Eternal)

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