Tolkien and the Angels

by Fr. Matthew Vierno, FSSP

Countless enthusiasts would agree that the world that J.R.R. Tolkien created resonates with our lived reality. The histories are complex, the languages realistic, and the list goes on. One might stop me here and point out that there are neither elves nor gold-loving dragons encountered in day-to-day life. While Tolkien did not present his works as “Catholic allegory,” it is certainly still something that came from a man who had a Catholic world view, and his perception does indeed include many beings greater (by nature) than man. His fictional tales echo a belief in and an awareness of beings beyond count, each differing in nature from one another: the angels.

[Before going any further, I would like to point out that no work of fiction and mythology should ever be our source of theology; Tolkien would be shocked if he were to hear that the faithful were to use The Fellowship of the Ring as spiritual reading or tried to understand the nature of God better by reading The Silmarillion.  That being said, we can appreciate the “echoes” and reminders of spiritual realities as they appear in these myths.]

Even though Tolkien himself did not present these works as allegory, he left some striking hints, nonetheless. Take this scene for example, when Frodo wakes up in Rivendell, mostly healed from a mortal and poisonous wound:

‘Where am I, and what is the time?’ he said aloud to the ceiling. ‘In the house of Elrond, and it is ten o’clock in the morning,’ said a voice. ‘It is the morning of October the twenty-fourth, if you want to know… And you are lucky to be here, too, after all the absurd things you have done since you left home.’¹

There are a number of dates mentioned in The Lord of the Rings, and the one that people often talk about is March 25^th when the “one ring” is destroyed. Just as interesting to me, however, is this use of October 24^th, the feast of St. Raphael in the 1962 calendar. Frodo is dying from a wound which is beyond human medicine but is fortunate to be under the care of the elves. The representation of the elves is rather curious: they are like men in many ways, but they vary one from another in power; their abilities go beyond those of man and of course they are immortal.

While I cannot speak for Tolkien regarding his devotion to St. Raphael, there are a few historical notes worth mentioning. When J.R.R. Tolkien was a young man, he had to serve in the Great War (World War I). He fought in the battle of the Somme, France, one of the most catastrophic battles in human history. Among the dead were two of his close friends. The trauma of these experiences come out from time to time in his writings, such as Frodo’s description of the “dead marshes”:

They lie in all the pools, pale faces, deep deep under the dark water. I saw them: grim faces and evil, and noble faces and sad. Many faces proud and fair, and weeds in their silver hair. But all foul, all rotting, all dead.²

In the end, this English author was one of the fortunate souls who made it home after the war. Like the rest, he had to piece life back together and somehow move forward. Many had to recover from physical wounds, and wounds of trauma were deeper still. In the wake of the war’s end, indeed only about three years later, Pope Benedict XV extended a feast to the universal Roman calendar: St. Raphael, October 24^th. I suspect that this feast would have had a particular importance for Tolkien. Rafael (רְפָאֵל), “God Heals,” a higher being, joined to the faithful by charity, is finally celebrated by the universal church by a special feast … and not a day too soon. Tolkien was surrounded by peers who suffered wounds that were above man’s skill to heal. This theme of healing is repeated throughout his writings.

St. Raphael is that powerful intercessor, and the only angel who has a complete book practically dedicated to him (Tobit). Though easily forgotten, devotion to St. Raphael and all the angels should be part of our life, our very perception of reality. For those who have not read the book of Tobit (or Tobias), I would highly recommend doing so. The words of the epistle of St. Raphael’s Mass (Tob 12:7-15) should resonate with any man who, like Tolkien, has suffered the sight of so much death:

In those days, the Angel Raphael said to Tobias: It is good to hide the secret of a king: but honorable to reveal and confess the works of God. Prayer is good with fasting and alms, more than to lay up treasures of gold: for alms delivers from death, and the same is that which purges away sins, and makes to find mercy and life everlasting. But they who commit sin and iniquity are enemies to their own soul. I discover then the truth to you, and I will not hide the secret from you. When you prayed with tears, and buried the dead, and left your dinner, and hid the dead by day in your house, and buried them by night, I offered your prayer to the Lord. And because you were acceptable to God, it was necessary that temptation should prove you. And now the Lord has sent me to heal you, and to deliver Sara your son’s wife from the devil. For I am the angel Raphael, one of the seven who stand before the Lord.

St. Raphael and all the Holy Angels, pray for us.

Fr. Matthew Vierno was ordained for the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter in May 2017, and has been assigned in Mexico, Texas, and Pennsylvania.  He currently serves as the director of vocations in Latin America.

1. The Fellowship of the Ring, Book II, Chapter 1: “Many Meetings.”
2. The Two Towers, Book IV, Chapter 2: “The Passage of the Marshes.”