The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) p. 775

As Merry turns his thoughts to Frodo and Sam at the end of the journey from the Hornburg to Harrowdale, Théoden makes ready for the great ride of the Rohirrim to Minas Tirith. Éomer is glad that this journey is over, but Théoden now thinks only of what lies ahead.

“This journey is over, maybe… but I have far yet to go. Last night the moon was full, and in the morning I shall ride to Edoras to the gathering of the Mark.”

Théoden may be thinking of the battle that lies ahead but Éomer has different thoughts in mind. What he sees in front of him is an old man. Perhaps the days when Théoden was confined to his chair in the golden hall of Meduseld have had a greater influence upon him than he realises.

“If you would take my counsel,” he says to the king, “you would then return hither, until the war is over, lost or won.”

In other words, though Éomer does not speak them out loud, you should take no part in the battle that lies ahead. It is time for you to rest, old man.

Théoden is seventy-one years old at the time of the events of The Lord of the Rings, and I am the same age as he was then. Would I listen to Éomer’s counsel and leave the battle to younger men? Or would I listen to Théoden who replies to his nephew, gently but firmly.

“Nay, my son, for so I will call you, speak not the soft words of Wormtongue in my old ears… Long years in the space of days it seems since I rode west; but never will I lean on a staff again. If the war is lost, what good will be my hiding in the hills? And if it is won, what grief will it be, even if I fall, spending my last strength?”

Théoden speaks more gently to Éomer than Jesus did to Peter when Peter tried to counsel him not to lay down his life in Jerusalem. Jesus told Peter to “get behind me, Satan!” But Théoden is just as firm in his intent and conviction as Jesus was. Do not try to prevent me from doing what I have to do, he says to his nephew. “The soft words of Wormtongue” were spoken in order to prevent Théoden from taking action against Saruman. They may have been cloaked in expressions of concern for an old man, offering kind advice to him not to overdo things, to conserve his strength, to look after himself, but Wormtongue’s true intention was to rob that old man of his capacity for any action at all.

And what of Théoden’s words to Éomer? What is the point in my hiding in the hills while my men go into battle? If we lose then death will come to me soon. If we win and I fall in the battle, what sadness will it be that I fell? My death in victory or defeat will be a good death, far better than any that might await me in the future.

And so it proves. The funeral of Théoden after the events of the War of the Ring is the most glorious of any King of Rohan. The memory in which he will be held thereafter will bring pride to the hearts of all his people.

And what do his words speak to all of us as we grow older? To those of us in our later years? Perhaps we should begin with caution. It is one thing in any of us to speak bold words, but it is another to fulfil them. If Théoden had, through weakness, delayed the ride of the Rohirrim to Minas Tirith, asking them to give him time to rest instead of riding on, his words would have no meaning at all. He must spend his strength with the best of his men, showing leadership at their head and not in the rear. If it is a feeble old man who leads the charge at the Pelennor Fields that might inspire pity but not courage. The leader that inspires others is one who lays down their life for the people. At the battle Théoden seizes a horn from his banner-bearer and blows such a blast upon it that it bursts asunder. He may be advanced in years but what strength he has he spends for those who follow him.

It may be given to few of us to lead a charge in battle in our later years but the call to pour out our lives and not to preserve them into decrepit senility as Wormtongue tried to persuade his master to do is a challenge to each one of us.