Bilbo Baggins the Dominican
They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.
The Dominican is called to love his cloister, but also to go out into the world for ministry. This mixed life is seen as imitative of Christ, who spent thirty years at home in Bethlehem before spending only three years in ministry, and who, during his active ministry, constantly took time off to pray. Blessed Jordan of Saxony once beautifully said of the religious-worldly tension in Saint Dominic’s life that ‘he gave the day to his neighbor, the nights to God.’1
In The Hobbit,2 Tolkien provides Bilbo Baggins as another role model for those of us who undertake the religious-worldly tension of the Dominic Option (see the about page). Bilbo has a comfortable hobbit-hole inherited from the Baggins side of his family, and his attitude towards his home at Bag End provides us lessons in the virtue of home life. However, Bilbo’s mother is of the more adventurous Tookish family, and it is this side of Bilbo that stirs up in him the courage to go on adventure to the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo’s Baggins-Took tension is a virtuous trait that is similar to the religious-worldly tension that we opt for with the Dominic Option. I would like to draw out four specific lessons from The Hobbit that show Bilbo to be a symbol of this virtue.
Two lessons, from Bilbo’s cloister at Bag End
Lesson 1: Put your home first
“Good morning,” said Bilbo Baggins, and he meant it… “If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There’s no hurry, we have all the day before us!” (p. 6)
Bilbo Baggins is a comfortable hobbit. He loves his hobbit-hole, and loves little more than the beauty of the Shire and conversation with friends over pipes, ales, and meals. Even when he is at the furthest point of his quest, he constantly reminisces about ‘what lay beyond the blue distance, the quiet Western Land and the Hill and his hobbit-hole under it.’ (p. 197) I love the convivial Shire scenes at the start of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. By the time we get to the far point of the adventures, Tolkien has cast us into such a hard world that we readers also start to crave the Shire.
We will never experience a home quite like the Shire. But the Dominic Option asks us to put the home first, regardless. This is because the home is a school of virtue. We cannot achieve anything in the world until we have grown up at home. Jesus spent thirty years at home in Nazareth, working with St Joseph in the family’s carpentry business, where he ‘increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.’ (Luke 2) It was only after thirty years that he had developed what he felt he needed to go into the world.
Bilbo, too, has become a virtuous man at home. The dwarves, who have spent their lives on the road, are at first dismissive: ‘He looks more like a grocer than a burglar!’ (p. 19) They are right to think of Bilbo’s life as being as mundane as groceries—before this adventure, he had never travelled beyond the borders of the Shire. But, towards the end of the adventure, even Thorin the dwarvish king has come to see the value of Bilbo’s mundanity, sharing these as his dying words:
“There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” (p. 269)
Bilbo loves his home at Bag End. The Baggins within him wants nothing more than to stay at home, enjoying ‘food and cheer and song.’ Because of this, he is able to resist the temptations of wealth that overwhelm the dwarves, and he is able to resist the temptations of power that overwhelmed Gollum. Love of hearth and home should also form the basis of our lives.
Lesson 2: Be hospitable to guests
The latter half of Matthew 25 tells us that Christ will judge us on the basis of how we have treated strangers. Those of us who feed and clothe strangers are told we have fed and clothed Christ, and those who turn strangers away are told that we have turned Christ away, for: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Of course, this does not imply that we must take in people who do not come in a Christlike fashion - those who would harm us, misuse our aid, or seek only to take without sharing. But it does mean that, when someone comes to us and asks in good faith for help, we must help them. St Benedict, a father of the cloistered life, phrases it like this:
Let all guests that happen to come be received as Christ, because He is going to say: “A Guest was I and ye received Me.” And let suitable honour be shewn to them all, especially to those who are of the household of the faith and to strangers. (Rule 53)
Bilbo’s house is set up for hospitality, with ‘lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors.’ (p. 3) When he receives guests, he shows the aforementioned suitable honour, and takes them in hospitably: ‘“I am just about to take tea; pray come and have some with me.” A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?’ (pp. 9-10) I like this anecdote because it reminds us that we may not be perfect hosts. Christ wouldn’t expect us to act cool if he showed up out of the blue. He would simply expect us to give of ourselves.
Bilbo is a man who puts his home life first. At the end of the narrative, Bilbo is excited to be able to go back to his own home and have tea at 4pm, as he is want to do. But, knowing the value of his home life, he offers it to the dwarves in his farewell to them: ‘“If ever you are passing my way,” said Bilbo, “don’t wait to knock! Tea is at four; but any of you are welcome at any time.”’ (p. 272)
Bag End summary: We must have something before we can share it
Bilbo developed his virtue at hearth and home. If he had not done so, then perhaps he too would have succumbed to the temptations of wealth and power. Like Jesus and like St Dominic, he knows that he cannot go into the world until he is strengthened by his home life with the needed virtues. Let us learn, like Bilbo, to love our homes and interior lives, and to grow there in virtue before we engage with a world which we cannot handle.
Bilbo continues to value his home life to a great extent and, after his adventure, he does little else for the rest of his life than enjoy his home, as we find out in the first chapters of the Lord of the Rings. But, what he has, he shares, taking in Frodo (family), throwing feasts (for friends), and being open to wayfaring guests (strangers). Let us learn, like Bilbo, to keep our homes orderly and to know that, if we do not have something, we cannot share it.
Two more lessons, from the adventure to the Lonely Mountain
Lesson 3: Stay constant by looking beyond worldly success
Bilbo is not a keen hero. The first thing he says about adventures is that they are ‘Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can’t think of what anyone sees in them.’ (p. 6) He is very right. His adventure will see him skipping many dinners, being attacked by spiders and goblins and trolls, and having to ‘manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a great many other things.’ (p. 30) But, as I say of Bilbo, and as Hinnebusch says of the Dominican:
His motive in going out to work is not personal gratifications but the glory of God and the good of neighbor … If his neighbor did not need him, he would stay in his religious house with God, but because of his neighbour’s dire necessity, he longs to give him the fruits of his own interior life. (pp. 41-42)
Bilbo does not want to go on the adventure at first. He decides to go impulsively, perhaps wanting to test his mettle, and keeps going only because he has promised to, and does not want to break his word. But, at one of the hardest points of the mission, as they sit on the dragon’s doorstep at the Lonely Mountain, Bilbo is the only one who is still motivated. ‘None of them had much spirit left. Now strange to say Mr. Baggins had more than the others.’ (p. 193) When somebody is motivated by worldly success, they are likely to give up soon. As the going gets tough, it seems that the odds are against them, and they calculate that the risk-reward ratio is wrong. This makes sense in a calculation where your only goals are worldly success. The dwarves, whose constancy is based on calculations of material success, think it’s time to give up.
However, worldly success oughtn’t be the end of the calculation. Is it better to die rich in wallet and poor in spirit, or the other way around? Furthermore, often the going is only tough for some short period of time, and the odds only seem against you. Bilbo, whose constancy is based on his word to his friends, motivates them to stay. In so doing, he honours his promise and proves his loyalty to his friends, both of which are of more value than wealth. And, in so doing, despite the fact he has ‘absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures,’ (p. 202) he ensures that the party achieves the wealth on which they had almost given up. Those who are motivated by worldly success often fail to achieve it, and even more often fail to achieve the much more valuable successes that can’t be put into an odds calculation.
Lesson 4: Know that you are small
Those who know me in person will perhaps see the irony in my statement, but the hobbits’ size is crucial to their being relatable. We are all little people, compared to the missions set before us - whether this be to steal a mountain from a dragon, or to raise a family. The dwarves in The Hobbit don’t seem to realise this, nor do many humans, either on Middle Earth or on our Earth. We set ourselves high and mighty goals that are far beyond us, and then we fail to achieve them, overwhelmed by their enormity.
Hobbits, however, being so small, are forced to confront their own insufficiency. Men, elves, even dwarves, all dismiss them: ‘As soon as I clapped my eyes on the little fellow bobbing and puffing on the mat, I had my doubts!’ (p. 19) Bilbo has to take it all to heart, and he knows that he cannot do great things. He doesn’t work on the adventure because he wants to take back a kingdom - he works on the adventure because he wants to keep a promise. In fact, there are very few points during the story when Bilbo does anything that his dwarvish companions could not have. But, because he does well all of the little tasks put to him, he achieves great things.
This is the way that God wants us to live in the world. We shouldn’t be looking at high and mighty goals that are far beyond us. The way to achieve great things is to do well the little tasks that are put before us every day. St Therese of Lisieux is famous for her spirituality of the “Little Way,” which emphasises this. Therese wanted to be a missionary, but died of poor health at the age of 24. Nonetheless, she was a great saint, because she did the little tasks in front of her well. She writes that: “Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we do them.”
We taking the Dominic Option engage with the world, which encourages us to look at it as our oyster. Bilbo shows us that what we should do instead is to look at the task that is set before us, and do the best job that we can.
‘I was not engaged to kill dragons, that is warrior’s work, but to steal treasure. I made the best beginning I could.’ (p. 207)
Lonely Mountain summary: The world is not our goal
People who look to conquer the world might achieve it. More often than not, they give up, being too small for the task in front of them, and realising that the odds are against them. Even if they do achieve great material success, they probably won’t end up very satisfied - because the world is not our goal.
Bilbo Baggins is a little hobbit who knows that he can achieve very little. Instead of setting his sights on conquering the world, he sets his sights on sticking to a promise and staying loyal to his friends and their shared mission. By doing so, he makes a great example of how we taking the Dominic Option should act in the world.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble and meek. (Luke 1)
Conclusion: Be in the world, not of the world
Those of us who take the Dominic Option live in the world. After all, that is where God has put us. We are called by our neighbours’ need to go out and serve. At the same time, we recognise that the world is overwhelming. We desire to retreat into ourselves, to stay in our homes - and this is a healthy place to be!
Bilbo Baggins lives in a dark and dangerous Middle Earth. He is called by the dwarves’ need to go into it. But he is overwhelmed, being insufficient for the task before him. He wants nothing more than to go home to Bag End. His situation is symbolic of those of us who take the Dominic Option.
I propose that we can learn the following four lessons from Bilbo Baggins:
Put your home first
Be hospitable to guests
Stay constant by looking beyond worldly success
Know that you are small
Bilbo Baggins lives in a tension between the cloister of Bag End and the mission of Lonely Mountain, in tension between the respectability of the Baggins family and the adventure of the Took family. We too, live in a tension between religion and action, between the home and the world. Bilbo Baggins is symbolic of those of us taking the Dominic Option.
Hinnebusch, William, Dominican Spirituality: Principles and Practice (1964 Wipf & Stock, 2014 reprint), p. 30. For more on Dominican spirituality, I highly recommend this book.
Cited throughout from the 2011 print by Harper Collins.