Waiting for a Eucatastrophe
What a strange word coined by Tolkien can tell us about unexpected hope
As I considered which subject to address in this week’s essay, I searched the news for inspiration. What I found instead, as is so often the case these past few years, was alarm and discouragement. The headlines spoke of great atrocities of war, afflictions of the human body beyond proper treatment, and scheming politicians riding a wave of lies to high office. Dejected, I let out a sigh.
“What is it?” my husband asked.
It could have been any number of things! Indeed, it was not so much one story, but the totality that brought me low. The hypocrisy of a single politician did not bother me as much as the general feeling of hatred that has developed in the United States between neighbors who treat every election like an existential struggle. The more they demonize each other, the further they are willing to go in breaking norms of civil behavior to secure their ends. My European friends openly debate whether the United States is headed for civil war. Scary stuff.
Then there is the war in Ukraine, which has likely claimed half a million lives, and the tragic destruction in Israel and Gaza, yet another example of how demonization of one’s opponents often leads directly to violence. Democracy seems frail and imperiled, while authoritarian regimes move from strength to strength. The planet is getting hotter (thermometers don’t lie) with devastating consequences, and it seems unlikely that humanity will be able to stem the rising tide. Covid is still with us, as I have recently experienced first-hand, and there is always the threat of another plague: something else that could force us back into lockdown, separated from those we love.
To sum up, the picture is bleak; at least, it is if you judge by news headlines. A bit of nuance does provide some comfort.
As I have assured my friends, the judicial system in the United States seems to be remarkably solid, not given over to corruption as some theorize or fear. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has so far resulted in only negligible gains beyond the territory its proxy forces controlled prior to 2022. It seems unlikely that the Russian military will complete some kind of vast sweep through Eastern Europe as occurred the previous century.
And as I have further pointed out to friends, the position of China is not nearly as strong as people suppose. Over the past few years, China has experienced the most serious anti-government protests in a generation, a meltdown in its real estate sector, and a sharp slowdown in economic growth. Most of all, China’s long-term stability is compromised by demographic factors thanks to decades of catastrophic attempts at population control.
The grass always looks greener on the other side, particularly when the neighbors are spray painting it. But while I do believe there is cause for hope, it is certainly true that the global order is less stable than it has been at any point in my life, as is the U.S. political order. We should not be surprised by this. History always goes through cycles, as does the earth’s climate. Yet, it can all seem desperately dark, and it is easy to fear the worst possible outcome.
As I consider all the existential threats to life on planet earth, I realize that some of these problems are simply too big for humanity to solve. Theoretically, humans possess the knowledge and resources to deliver good government, scientific breakthroughs, and life-improving technologies. But the eternal discord that plagues humanity prevents us from achieving our aspirations. We fail to cooperate, and thus we fail to deliver what is necessary for the common good.
What we need is an intervention from the outside. In the world of ancient Greek drama, this was a deus ex machina: a god from the machine. Using stage trickery, the performers would introduce a god in the play’s final moments who would magically solve the central conundrum of the plot.
Many centuries later, J.R.R. Tolkien coined the word eucatastrophe. Unlike the common understanding of a catastrophe, in which some sudden event unleashes negative consequences, Tolkien defined a eucatastrophe as the exact opposite: an unforeseen deliverance from unavoidable doom. The prime example of this in Tolkien’s fiction is the destruction of the Ring of Power at the end of The Lord of the Rings, which brings about the downfall of the dark lord Sauron just when his victory seemed assured. Here is what Tolkien had to say about eucatastrophes in his essay, “On Fairy Stories.”
“The eucatastrophic tale is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function. The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn” (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially ‘escapist,’ nor ‘fugitive.’ In its fairy-tale—or otherworld—setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.”1
Humanity is in desperate need of a eucatastrophe. The earth itself is in such need! Certainly, there have been moments in history that seem to fit the bill: seemingly random events that turned the tide of a war, evil rulers suddenly hurled from their thrones, or even something as mythologized as the divine wind (kamikaze) that saved Japan from invasion by the Mongols. These moments exist in our collective imagination as eucatastrophes, but they are in short supply compared to the endless sea of human need.
Tolkien’s understanding of eucatastrophes was dependent on his belief in the ultimate triumph of light over darkness. Even though he spoke of history as a “long defeat,” he acknowledged the possible intervention of outside forces that could deliver victory when all hope is lost. For Tolkien, the prototypical eucatastrophe was the entry of God himself into the human story through the incarnation of Jesus Christ. His resurrection in particular is a eucatastrophe: hope unlooked for, to use one of Tolkien’s turns of phrase.
Tolkien believed so strongly in the historic reality of Christ’s death and resurrection that he could speak with confidence about the ultimate triumph of the light. The eucatastrophe he longed for had already taken place. Death had been defeated. The king was upon his throne.
We wait now upon the return of that king in a second eucatastrophe necessitated by the first, in which evil will be thrown down and justice and righteousness will fill the earth. Until then, we remain in the time of the long defeat, the landscape around us black and barren. But if we look up, we might just see some light peaking through the clouds, and the eagles descending. A hero riding upon a white horse might just appear at the top of a hill with an entire army in his wake. And just when we thought he would never return, a king might emerge in glory, prepared to inaugurate a better age.
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Tolkien, J.R.R. “On Fairy Stories.” https://coolcalvary.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/on-fairy-stories1.pdf
Thank you for the piece. I grew up in the Soviet Union. We never would have thought that the USSR could collapse. Yet, it did. Very quickly. No one could tell why. It's a eucatastrophy.
I once heard a pastor refer to this age as "the muddy middle," the time between the resurrection of Christ and His second coming. I think it is wise to cling to the small victories and amazing, unexpected moments of deliverance that come to us every day. I recently found my lost kitten. The world didn't change, but my life was suddenly full of joy. The grief of so many should motivate us to be tools of unexpected relief in the lives of others. A simple text can let someone know that they are not alone and are valued.