The Last Step Into Mordor

In J.R.R. Tolkien's The Return of the King, there is a moment near the end of the long journey to Mount Doom that has moved readers for generations. Frodo Baggins, broken by exhaustion and the crushing weight of the Ring, collapses on the ashen slopes of the mountain. He cannot go another step. The quest that began with such courage in the Shire has drained him of everything.

And then Samwise Gamgee, his faithful companion, says the words that reshape everything: "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you." Sam lifts Frodo onto his back and begins to climb.

What strikes me about this scene is that perseverance did not look heroic in that moment. It looked like crawling. It looked like two small, ordinary creatures dragging themselves up a volcano when every rational voice said to quit. Tolkien knew something about endurance — he had survived the trenches of the Somme in World War I, where he watched most of his closest friends die. He understood that faithfulness is not the absence of despair. It is the decision to keep moving through it.

The writer of Hebrews puts it plainly: "Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus" (Hebrews 12:1-2). Some days the race looks like running. Other days it looks like being carried.

The God who marks out the course also provides the companions for the climb.