(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
Near the end of The Horse and His Boy, the boy Shasta ends up riding alone (on a non-talking horse) on a mountain pass in a very dense fog. Suddenly he becomes aware that Someone else is walking beside him, but Shasta is unable to see who it is. He is only aware from the breathing that the presence, a person or a creature, is very large. Shasta is quite frightened, but eventually he dares to speak to the unwelcome fellow traveler.
"Who are you?" he said, scarcely above a whisper.
"One who has waited long for you to speak," said the Thing....
"I can't see you at all," said Shasta, after staring very hard. Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, "You're not—not something dead, are you? Oh please—please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!"
But the creature next to Shasta breathes gently and warmly on him, and asks Shasta to tell what his sorrows are. And Shasta proceeds to relate all the bad things that have happened to him, including several encounters with lions, who chased him and his friends.
"I do not call you unfortunate," said the Large Voice.
"Don't you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?" said Shasta.
"There was only one lion," said the Voice.
"What on earth do you mean? I've just told you there were at least two the first night, and—"
"There was only one: but he was swift of foot."
"How do you know?"
"I was the lion." And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. "I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you."
All the time that Shasta had thought that he was alone, Aslan the Lion had been with him, watching over him. At one point Shasta had had to spend a night alone among the tombs, but a cat had shown up and stayed with him; that had been Aslan. As a baby Shasta had been set adrift in a boat; Aslan had pushed the boat to shore where a man had found him. Aslan's care for him had been constant, even though Shasta had not realized it.
Not only was Aslan's care for him continuous, but Aslan's patience was also endless. Aslan showed up next to him, but he waited for Shasta to speak first. Shasta asked who he was. What was Aslan's response? "One who has waited long for you to speak."
So it is with Christ and us. His care for us is never-ending. Even when we think he is absent, he is still there, watching over us. We may turn our backs on him, but he does not turn his back on us.
Who is Jesus Christ? He loves us and wants us to come to him. He is one who has waited long for us to speak.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Misfortunes Are Not Always What They Seem
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
The Horse and His Boy tells the tale of a young boy raised in Calormen, the country adjoining Narnia. This boy, Shasta, meets a talking Horse named Bree who has lived in captivity in Calormen, and together they start on an escape to Narnia. During their journey they find a girl, Aravis, and another talking Horse, Hwin, who are also escaping to Narnia, and they join forces.
When they are almost to the fortress of Anvard in Archenland, a small border country, they see an army of Calormenes close behind them in the desert. They need to warn the people in Archenland about the coming attack, but the group of Calormene enemies is gaining on them. The horses start running fast.
"Quick! Quick!" shouted Aravis. "We might as well not have come at all if we don't reach Anvard in time. Gallop, Bree, gallop. Remember you're a war-horse."
It was all Shasta could do to prevent himself from shouting out similar instructions; but he thought, "The poor chap's doing all he can already," and held his tongue. And certainly both Horses were doing, if not all they could, all they thought they could; which is not quite the same thing. Bree had caught up with Hwin and they thundered side by side over the turf. It didn't look as if Hwin could possibly keep it up much longer.
At that moment everyone's feelings were completely altered by a sound from behind. It was not the sound they had been expecting to hear—the noise of hoofs and jingling armour, mixed, perhaps, with Calormene battle-cries. Yet Shasta knew it at once. It was the same snarling roar he had heard that moonlit night when they first met Aravis and Hwin. Bree knew it too. His eyes gleamed red and his ears lay flat back on his skull. And Bree now discovered that he had not really been going as fast—not quite as fast—as he could. Shasta felt the change at once. Now they were really going all out. In a few seconds they were well ahead of Hwin.
It's not fair," thought Shasta. "I did think we'd be safe from lions here!"
The two children, Shasta and Aravis, and the two Horses think they are in a most unfortunate circumstance. They think that a cruel lion is chasing them. They are extremely frightened. But suddenly the Horses are running faster than they realized they could run. And they end up arriving in Archenland in time to give warning of the approach of the Calormene enemies. If they had not run as fast as they could have, they would have been too late.
As it turns out, the lion that was chasing them was Aslan, the Christ figure of the Narnia stories. He never really meant to harm them (though he does punish Aravis for something wrong she had done). Instead, he uses the fear that he inspires, when they think he is merely an anonymous wild lion, to get them to do what they need to do. In fact, Shasta, Aravis, Bree, and Hwin had dawdled earlier in their trip and wasted time, even though they knew the Calormene army was on its way. Now Aslan has to take drastic measures to get them to Archenland on time.
So it often is with us. Many times we think we are having unfair bad circumstances. But perhaps God uses these bad situations to get us to do what is right and necessary. Maybe we have dawdled and wasted time, or done what was wrong. We have made a mess of things. Now God needs to take drastic measures to get us back on the right track. "It's not fair," we say. "We did think we'd be safe from lions!" But in fact, the lions are for our good. They get us back to where we need to be. Thank God that he knows how to get us to the right place at the right time! It might seem hard at the moment, but it turns out for the good in the end.
The Horse and His Boy tells the tale of a young boy raised in Calormen, the country adjoining Narnia. This boy, Shasta, meets a talking Horse named Bree who has lived in captivity in Calormen, and together they start on an escape to Narnia. During their journey they find a girl, Aravis, and another talking Horse, Hwin, who are also escaping to Narnia, and they join forces.
When they are almost to the fortress of Anvard in Archenland, a small border country, they see an army of Calormenes close behind them in the desert. They need to warn the people in Archenland about the coming attack, but the group of Calormene enemies is gaining on them. The horses start running fast.
"Quick! Quick!" shouted Aravis. "We might as well not have come at all if we don't reach Anvard in time. Gallop, Bree, gallop. Remember you're a war-horse."
It was all Shasta could do to prevent himself from shouting out similar instructions; but he thought, "The poor chap's doing all he can already," and held his tongue. And certainly both Horses were doing, if not all they could, all they thought they could; which is not quite the same thing. Bree had caught up with Hwin and they thundered side by side over the turf. It didn't look as if Hwin could possibly keep it up much longer.
At that moment everyone's feelings were completely altered by a sound from behind. It was not the sound they had been expecting to hear—the noise of hoofs and jingling armour, mixed, perhaps, with Calormene battle-cries. Yet Shasta knew it at once. It was the same snarling roar he had heard that moonlit night when they first met Aravis and Hwin. Bree knew it too. His eyes gleamed red and his ears lay flat back on his skull. And Bree now discovered that he had not really been going as fast—not quite as fast—as he could. Shasta felt the change at once. Now they were really going all out. In a few seconds they were well ahead of Hwin.
It's not fair," thought Shasta. "I did think we'd be safe from lions here!"
The two children, Shasta and Aravis, and the two Horses think they are in a most unfortunate circumstance. They think that a cruel lion is chasing them. They are extremely frightened. But suddenly the Horses are running faster than they realized they could run. And they end up arriving in Archenland in time to give warning of the approach of the Calormene enemies. If they had not run as fast as they could have, they would have been too late.
As it turns out, the lion that was chasing them was Aslan, the Christ figure of the Narnia stories. He never really meant to harm them (though he does punish Aravis for something wrong she had done). Instead, he uses the fear that he inspires, when they think he is merely an anonymous wild lion, to get them to do what they need to do. In fact, Shasta, Aravis, Bree, and Hwin had dawdled earlier in their trip and wasted time, even though they knew the Calormene army was on its way. Now Aslan has to take drastic measures to get them to Archenland on time.
So it often is with us. Many times we think we are having unfair bad circumstances. But perhaps God uses these bad situations to get us to do what is right and necessary. Maybe we have dawdled and wasted time, or done what was wrong. We have made a mess of things. Now God needs to take drastic measures to get us back on the right track. "It's not fair," we say. "We did think we'd be safe from lions!" But in fact, the lions are for our good. They get us back to where we need to be. Thank God that he knows how to get us to the right place at the right time! It might seem hard at the moment, but it turns out for the good in the end.
Monday, January 24, 2011
His Blood Resurrects Us
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
At the end of The Silver Chair, the Lion Aslan brings Eustace and Jill back from Narnia to his own country, which is beyond all worlds. There they see in a stream the body of the aged King Caspian, who has just died; they can still hear the sad music playing. Aslan tells Eustace to pluck a foot-long, very sharp thorn from a nearby bush. Aslan asks Eustace to drive the thorn into his paw. Eustace is reluctant, but knows he must obey.
Then Eustace set his teeth and drove the thorn into the Lion's pad. And there came out a great drop of blood, redder than all redness that you have ever seen or imagined. And it splashed into the stream over the dead body of the King. At the same moment the doleful music stopped. And the dead King began to be changed. His white beard turned to grey, and from grey to yellow, and got shorter and vanished altogether; and his sunken cheeks grew round and fresh, and the wrinkles were smoothed, and his eyes opened, and his eyes and lips both laughed, and suddenly he leaped up and stood before them—a very young man, or a boy.... And he rushed to Aslan and flung his arms as far as they would go around the huge neck; and he gave Aslan the strong kisses of a King, and Aslan gave him the wild kisses of a Lion.
When Aslan gives his own blood, Caspian is brought back to life. And because Christ has given his own blood, we can be brought back to life after we die. The doleful music will stop once we have arrived in Christ's country and our new life starts. Christ will remake us into new people. We will leap up and stand before Christ, laughing.
Caspian had hard times in his life, and we may have many hard times in ours. But when we arrive in Christ's country, there will be no more tears. There will be the strong kisses that we offer to our Savior and Lord and the wild Lion kisses that he gives back to us, and then joy forevermore.
At the end of The Silver Chair, the Lion Aslan brings Eustace and Jill back from Narnia to his own country, which is beyond all worlds. There they see in a stream the body of the aged King Caspian, who has just died; they can still hear the sad music playing. Aslan tells Eustace to pluck a foot-long, very sharp thorn from a nearby bush. Aslan asks Eustace to drive the thorn into his paw. Eustace is reluctant, but knows he must obey.
Then Eustace set his teeth and drove the thorn into the Lion's pad. And there came out a great drop of blood, redder than all redness that you have ever seen or imagined. And it splashed into the stream over the dead body of the King. At the same moment the doleful music stopped. And the dead King began to be changed. His white beard turned to grey, and from grey to yellow, and got shorter and vanished altogether; and his sunken cheeks grew round and fresh, and the wrinkles were smoothed, and his eyes opened, and his eyes and lips both laughed, and suddenly he leaped up and stood before them—a very young man, or a boy.... And he rushed to Aslan and flung his arms as far as they would go around the huge neck; and he gave Aslan the strong kisses of a King, and Aslan gave him the wild kisses of a Lion.
When Aslan gives his own blood, Caspian is brought back to life. And because Christ has given his own blood, we can be brought back to life after we die. The doleful music will stop once we have arrived in Christ's country and our new life starts. Christ will remake us into new people. We will leap up and stand before Christ, laughing.
Caspian had hard times in his life, and we may have many hard times in ours. But when we arrive in Christ's country, there will be no more tears. There will be the strong kisses that we offer to our Savior and Lord and the wild Lion kisses that he gives back to us, and then joy forevermore.
Friday, January 21, 2011
There Is No Other
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
In The Silver Chair, Eustace Scrubb and his schoolmate Jill Pole have miraculously escaped from their school into a wood in Narnia's world. But through inattention and showing off, Jill has inadvertently caused Eustace to fall off an enormous cliff. Amazingly, a huge lion (Jill does not know that this is Aslan, Lewis's Christ figure) rushes up and blows at Eustace so that he flies away into the distance. Then the lion walks away.
Jill is overcome with shame and loneliness, and casts herself down, crying. But after a long bout of tears, she finds herself dreadfully thirsty. She hears the sound of water and goes in search of it. Finally she finds a stream. But she is afraid to drink.
"...just on this side of the stream lay the lion.... She knew at once that it had seen her, for its eyes looked into hers for a moment and then turned away—as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.
"If I run away, it'll be after me in a moment," thought Jill. "And if I go on, I shall run straight into its mouth." Anyway, she couldn't have moved if she had tried, and she couldn't take her eyes off it. How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first.
"If you're thirsty, you may drink."
...For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, "If you are thirsty, come and drink," and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world, and realized that it was the lion speaking.... It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in rather a different way.
"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to—do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion....
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming a step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
This is a marvelous picture of the need that each of us has. We are all filled with great needs—with sin—just as Jill was filled with thirst. We are dying of our sin. We need to drink the water of forgiveness.
Christ is there at the stream. It can be frightening to find him there. We might have to make some changes in order to get to that stream. Perhaps we will have to give up some cherished ways of life, some self-indulgences, some habits. We might prefer some other teacher, some other religion.
But Christ is in front of the stream, and he will not move aside for our convenience. He makes no promises not to do anything to us. He has swallowed up others before us. And if we are thirsty, we must go through him.
After Jill's thirst became so great that it overcame her fear, she went forward and drank. It was the best water she had ever had. And Aslan did not hurt her. He loved her and forgave her, and then sent her forth on a new life.
Jesus said in John 14:6b: "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." If we do not drink, we will die of thirst. And there is no other stream.
In The Silver Chair, Eustace Scrubb and his schoolmate Jill Pole have miraculously escaped from their school into a wood in Narnia's world. But through inattention and showing off, Jill has inadvertently caused Eustace to fall off an enormous cliff. Amazingly, a huge lion (Jill does not know that this is Aslan, Lewis's Christ figure) rushes up and blows at Eustace so that he flies away into the distance. Then the lion walks away.
Jill is overcome with shame and loneliness, and casts herself down, crying. But after a long bout of tears, she finds herself dreadfully thirsty. She hears the sound of water and goes in search of it. Finally she finds a stream. But she is afraid to drink.
"...just on this side of the stream lay the lion.... She knew at once that it had seen her, for its eyes looked into hers for a moment and then turned away—as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.
"If I run away, it'll be after me in a moment," thought Jill. "And if I go on, I shall run straight into its mouth." Anyway, she couldn't have moved if she had tried, and she couldn't take her eyes off it. How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first.
"If you're thirsty, you may drink."
...For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, "If you are thirsty, come and drink," and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world, and realized that it was the lion speaking.... It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in rather a different way.
"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to—do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion....
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming a step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
This is a marvelous picture of the need that each of us has. We are all filled with great needs—with sin—just as Jill was filled with thirst. We are dying of our sin. We need to drink the water of forgiveness.
Christ is there at the stream. It can be frightening to find him there. We might have to make some changes in order to get to that stream. Perhaps we will have to give up some cherished ways of life, some self-indulgences, some habits. We might prefer some other teacher, some other religion.
But Christ is in front of the stream, and he will not move aside for our convenience. He makes no promises not to do anything to us. He has swallowed up others before us. And if we are thirsty, we must go through him.
After Jill's thirst became so great that it overcame her fear, she went forward and drank. It was the best water she had ever had. And Aslan did not hurt her. He loved her and forgave her, and then sent her forth on a new life.
Jesus said in John 14:6b: "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." If we do not drink, we will die of thirst. And there is no other stream.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Great Bridge Builder
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
C. S. Lewis had one primary purpose for writing his books about the country of Narnia. At the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Edmund and Lucy are told that they will never return to Narnia, but instead remain in their own world. Lucy sobs that she will be very sad never seeing Aslan again. She says,
"And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are—are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."
Lewis wants us, through reading his Narnia books, to know Christ better. That was his primary purpose for writing the stories.
These books not only give us great help for our life in the present. They also give us hope for our future. At the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the Mouse Reepicheep sails a little coracle over the edge of the world to Aslan's country. The others wish they could go there, too, but it's not their time yet. Aslan tells them they must go to his country from their own world.
"Oh, Aslan," said Lucy. "Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?"
"I shall be telling you all the time," said Aslan. "But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder."
We can surely get to Aslan's country! It may be a long way; it may be a short way. The way may be difficult. But he will not leave us languishing. He has the country we long for, and he provides the way for us to get there. Christ is the great Bridge Builder.
C. S. Lewis had one primary purpose for writing his books about the country of Narnia. At the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Edmund and Lucy are told that they will never return to Narnia, but instead remain in their own world. Lucy sobs that she will be very sad never seeing Aslan again. She says,
"And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are—are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."
Lewis wants us, through reading his Narnia books, to know Christ better. That was his primary purpose for writing the stories.
These books not only give us great help for our life in the present. They also give us hope for our future. At the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the Mouse Reepicheep sails a little coracle over the edge of the world to Aslan's country. The others wish they could go there, too, but it's not their time yet. Aslan tells them they must go to his country from their own world.
"Oh, Aslan," said Lucy. "Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?"
"I shall be telling you all the time," said Aslan. "But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder."
We can surely get to Aslan's country! It may be a long way; it may be a short way. The way may be difficult. But he will not leave us languishing. He has the country we long for, and he provides the way for us to get there. Christ is the great Bridge Builder.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Only He Can Undragon Us
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie magically end up back in Narnia, on Prince Caspian's ship, the Dawn Treader, exploring the oceans eastward, along with their cousin Eustace. Only Eustace, a miserable person anyway, hates everything and constantly complains. He makes life unpleasant for everyone around him.
When the Dawn Treader survives a storm and takes shelter in an unknown island for repairs, Eustace sneaks off. He ends up finding a pile of treasure. Since he has never read adventure stories, it does not occur to him that this is a dragon's treasure. But that is what it is. This dragon, however, is very old, and it dies in Eustace's presence. In relief, thinking greedy thoughts about the treasure, Eustace falls asleep, after putting on a gold armband. But when he awakens, he has become a dragon himself, with a now very tight armband causing him great pain in his leg.
Many things happen after the band of Narnians realize that this dragon is Eustace and puzzle about how they might take him with them when they have to leave. But eventually one night, Edmund awakens to find Eustace a boy again. Eustace describes to him how a lion (he does not know that this is Aslan, the Christ figure of the stories) had come to him and led him to a well on top of a mountain. Eustace says that he was happy about this, because he wanted to bathe his sore leg in the well. But the lion, Aslan, says that Eustace must first undress. Eustace continues the story.
"I was just going to say that I couldn't undress because I hadn't any clothes on when I suddenly thought that dragons are snaky sort of things and snakes can cast their skins. Oh, of course, thought I, that's what the lion means. So I started scratching myself and my scales began coming off all over the place. And then I scratched a little deeper and, instead of just scales coming off here and there, my whole skin started peeling off beautifully, like it does after an illness, or as if I was a banana. In a minute or two I just stepped out of it. I could see it lying there beside me, looking rather nasty. It was a most lovely feeling. So I started to go down into the well for my bathe.
"But just as I was going to put my feet into the water I looked down and saw that they were all hard and rough and wrinkled and scaly just as they had been before. Oh, that's all right, said I, it only means I had another smaller suit on underneath the first one, and I'll have to get out of it too. So I scratched and tore again and this under skin peeled off beautifully and out I stepped and left it lying beside the other one and went down to the well for my bathe.
"Well, exactly the same thing happened again. And I thought to myself, oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off? For I was longing to bathe my leg. So I scratched away for the third time and got off a third skin, just like the two others, and stepped out of it. But as soon as I looked at myself in the water I knew it had been no good.
"Then the lion said—but I don't know if it spoke—You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
"The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right down into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt.... Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off—just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt—and there it was, lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly looking than the others had been. And there I was as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me—I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on—and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious...."
Eustace had been a dragon but wanted to become a person again. But he couldn't do it himself. Only Aslan could do it for him. What a great illustration Lewis has written of what it is like for us! We are all lost in sin. We want to become better people. We try to be better people. But we can't do it. No matter how hard we try, we always end up slipping up again. We cannot make ourselves better—not truly, completely better. Christ has to do it for us. It hurts, but it feels so good to get rid of the sin and the nastiness that we've had in our lives. And after that it becomes perfectly delicious.
As Paul wrote in Romans 7:15-16b,21-25b, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.... So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie magically end up back in Narnia, on Prince Caspian's ship, the Dawn Treader, exploring the oceans eastward, along with their cousin Eustace. Only Eustace, a miserable person anyway, hates everything and constantly complains. He makes life unpleasant for everyone around him.
When the Dawn Treader survives a storm and takes shelter in an unknown island for repairs, Eustace sneaks off. He ends up finding a pile of treasure. Since he has never read adventure stories, it does not occur to him that this is a dragon's treasure. But that is what it is. This dragon, however, is very old, and it dies in Eustace's presence. In relief, thinking greedy thoughts about the treasure, Eustace falls asleep, after putting on a gold armband. But when he awakens, he has become a dragon himself, with a now very tight armband causing him great pain in his leg.
Many things happen after the band of Narnians realize that this dragon is Eustace and puzzle about how they might take him with them when they have to leave. But eventually one night, Edmund awakens to find Eustace a boy again. Eustace describes to him how a lion (he does not know that this is Aslan, the Christ figure of the stories) had come to him and led him to a well on top of a mountain. Eustace says that he was happy about this, because he wanted to bathe his sore leg in the well. But the lion, Aslan, says that Eustace must first undress. Eustace continues the story.
"I was just going to say that I couldn't undress because I hadn't any clothes on when I suddenly thought that dragons are snaky sort of things and snakes can cast their skins. Oh, of course, thought I, that's what the lion means. So I started scratching myself and my scales began coming off all over the place. And then I scratched a little deeper and, instead of just scales coming off here and there, my whole skin started peeling off beautifully, like it does after an illness, or as if I was a banana. In a minute or two I just stepped out of it. I could see it lying there beside me, looking rather nasty. It was a most lovely feeling. So I started to go down into the well for my bathe.
"But just as I was going to put my feet into the water I looked down and saw that they were all hard and rough and wrinkled and scaly just as they had been before. Oh, that's all right, said I, it only means I had another smaller suit on underneath the first one, and I'll have to get out of it too. So I scratched and tore again and this under skin peeled off beautifully and out I stepped and left it lying beside the other one and went down to the well for my bathe.
"Well, exactly the same thing happened again. And I thought to myself, oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off? For I was longing to bathe my leg. So I scratched away for the third time and got off a third skin, just like the two others, and stepped out of it. But as soon as I looked at myself in the water I knew it had been no good.
"Then the lion said—but I don't know if it spoke—You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
"The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right down into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt.... Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off—just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt—and there it was, lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly looking than the others had been. And there I was as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me—I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on—and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious...."
Eustace had been a dragon but wanted to become a person again. But he couldn't do it himself. Only Aslan could do it for him. What a great illustration Lewis has written of what it is like for us! We are all lost in sin. We want to become better people. We try to be better people. But we can't do it. No matter how hard we try, we always end up slipping up again. We cannot make ourselves better—not truly, completely better. Christ has to do it for us. It hurts, but it feels so good to get rid of the sin and the nastiness that we've had in our lives. And after that it becomes perfectly delicious.
As Paul wrote in Romans 7:15-16b,21-25b, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.... So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
When We Fix Our Eyes on Him
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
Yesterday I wrote about an episode where the Pevensie children are crossing Narnia, trying to find Prince Caspian and his followers. On the way, Lucy encounters Aslan, and he tells her that she has to instruct her brothers and sister, and Trumpkin the Dwarf, to follow him. But the others won't see Aslan at first—only Lucy will see him—and they probably won't believe her.
This is in fact how it turns out. However, since going their own way hasn't worked out very well for them, and because of some other factors, the others decide to follow Lucy. But they aren't very cheerful about it. And Susan says some unkind things to boot. Lewis writes,
And so at last they got on the move. Lucy went first, biting her lip and trying not to say all the things she thought of saying to Susan. But she forgot about them when she fixed her eyes on Aslan.
It turns out that way for us a lot, too. People say things to us that we feel are uncalled for. They do things that are unfair. There are plenty of things that we'd like to say. There are lots of things that we'd like to do in exchange. But they aren't the right things to do or say.
We can forget about those things if we fix our eyes on Christ. He is all that we need to see, and he helps us remember what is right.
After Lucy had followed Aslan for a while, the others started to see him too, one by one. Lucy's faithfulness not only brought the others to safety through Narnia, but also brought them back into relationship with Aslan.
That's what will happen when we keep our eyes fixed on Christ. Not only can we forget about the wrong things we want to say and do, but we can help others too. Keeping our eyes fixed on him is what we need.
Yesterday I wrote about an episode where the Pevensie children are crossing Narnia, trying to find Prince Caspian and his followers. On the way, Lucy encounters Aslan, and he tells her that she has to instruct her brothers and sister, and Trumpkin the Dwarf, to follow him. But the others won't see Aslan at first—only Lucy will see him—and they probably won't believe her.
This is in fact how it turns out. However, since going their own way hasn't worked out very well for them, and because of some other factors, the others decide to follow Lucy. But they aren't very cheerful about it. And Susan says some unkind things to boot. Lewis writes,
And so at last they got on the move. Lucy went first, biting her lip and trying not to say all the things she thought of saying to Susan. But she forgot about them when she fixed her eyes on Aslan.
It turns out that way for us a lot, too. People say things to us that we feel are uncalled for. They do things that are unfair. There are plenty of things that we'd like to say. There are lots of things that we'd like to do in exchange. But they aren't the right things to do or say.
We can forget about those things if we fix our eyes on Christ. He is all that we need to see, and he helps us remember what is right.
After Lucy had followed Aslan for a while, the others started to see him too, one by one. Lucy's faithfulness not only brought the others to safety through Narnia, but also brought them back into relationship with Aslan.
That's what will happen when we keep our eyes fixed on Christ. Not only can we forget about the wrong things we want to say and do, but we can help others too. Keeping our eyes fixed on him is what we need.
Monday, January 17, 2011
We Are Called to Obey Him
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
Trumpkin the dwarf and the four Pevensie children are making their way through Narnia to the camp of Prince Caspian, but the landscape has changed since the Pevensies were there before, and Trumpkin had been blindfolded when he was taken to where he met up with them. It is not long before they all become lost.
As they are heading along what seems the most logical route, Lucy sees Aslan, the lion who is the Christ figure of the stories, indicating to her that they are to follow him in a different direction. She tells the others, but they do not believe her. Miserably, she continues to follow them. Their route turns out all wrong and they are attacked by enemies. They barely get away, and they end up heading back in the direction Aslan had wanted.
That night, Lucy awakens and encounters Aslan while the others are sleeping. Here is part of their conversation. Aslan says,
"You have work in hand, and much time has been lost today."
"Yes, wasn't it a shame?" said Lucy. "I saw you all right. They wouldn't believe me. They're all so—"
From somewhere deep inside Aslan's body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.
"I'm sorry," said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. "I didn't mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn't my fault anyway, was it?"
The Lion looked straight into her eyes.
"Oh, Aslan," said Lucy. "You don't mean it was? How could I—I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that...oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?"
Aslan said nothing.
"You mean," said Lucy rather faintly, "that it would have turned out all right—somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?"
"To know what would have happened, child?" said Aslan. "No. Nobody is ever told that."
"Oh dear," said Lucy.
"But anyone can find out what will happen," said Aslan. "If you go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me—what will happen? There is only one way of finding out."
"Do you mean that is what you want me to do?" gasped Lucy.
"Yes, little one," said Aslan.
"Will the others see you too?" asked Lucy.
"Certainly not at first," said Aslan. "Later on, it depends."
"But they won't believe me!" said Lucy.
"It doesn't matter," said Aslan.
...
Lucy buried her head in his mane to hide from his face. But there must have been magic in his mane. She could feel lion-strength going into her.
Aslan has his own agenda. He knows best what ought to be done. And just like Aslan, in our world, Christ has his own agenda. He has told us in the Bible what ought to be done.
We know from reading God's Word what is right. But sometimes it is very hard to do it. Surely, we think, God doesn't expect us to stand up all by ourselves and do what is right all on our own, does he?
But we won't be truly alone when God is with us. And there is only one way to find out what will happen when we obey him, and that is to do it. Will others believe us? Will they like what we do? That doesn't matter. What matters is that we obey God.
How can we find the strength to do this? We bury our heads in his mane. We turn to him in prayer. Christ will give us his lion-strength and his loving consolation.
The others said some very bitter things to Lucy at first, when she wakened them and told them they had to follow her and Aslan. But even so, it all turned out very well for her in the end. It always turns out well in the long run when we follow Christ.
Trumpkin the dwarf and the four Pevensie children are making their way through Narnia to the camp of Prince Caspian, but the landscape has changed since the Pevensies were there before, and Trumpkin had been blindfolded when he was taken to where he met up with them. It is not long before they all become lost.
As they are heading along what seems the most logical route, Lucy sees Aslan, the lion who is the Christ figure of the stories, indicating to her that they are to follow him in a different direction. She tells the others, but they do not believe her. Miserably, she continues to follow them. Their route turns out all wrong and they are attacked by enemies. They barely get away, and they end up heading back in the direction Aslan had wanted.
That night, Lucy awakens and encounters Aslan while the others are sleeping. Here is part of their conversation. Aslan says,
"You have work in hand, and much time has been lost today."
"Yes, wasn't it a shame?" said Lucy. "I saw you all right. They wouldn't believe me. They're all so—"
From somewhere deep inside Aslan's body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.
"I'm sorry," said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. "I didn't mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn't my fault anyway, was it?"
The Lion looked straight into her eyes.
"Oh, Aslan," said Lucy. "You don't mean it was? How could I—I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that...oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?"
Aslan said nothing.
"You mean," said Lucy rather faintly, "that it would have turned out all right—somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?"
"To know what would have happened, child?" said Aslan. "No. Nobody is ever told that."
"Oh dear," said Lucy.
"But anyone can find out what will happen," said Aslan. "If you go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me—what will happen? There is only one way of finding out."
"Do you mean that is what you want me to do?" gasped Lucy.
"Yes, little one," said Aslan.
"Will the others see you too?" asked Lucy.
"Certainly not at first," said Aslan. "Later on, it depends."
"But they won't believe me!" said Lucy.
"It doesn't matter," said Aslan.
...
Lucy buried her head in his mane to hide from his face. But there must have been magic in his mane. She could feel lion-strength going into her.
Aslan has his own agenda. He knows best what ought to be done. And just like Aslan, in our world, Christ has his own agenda. He has told us in the Bible what ought to be done.
We know from reading God's Word what is right. But sometimes it is very hard to do it. Surely, we think, God doesn't expect us to stand up all by ourselves and do what is right all on our own, does he?
But we won't be truly alone when God is with us. And there is only one way to find out what will happen when we obey him, and that is to do it. Will others believe us? Will they like what we do? That doesn't matter. What matters is that we obey God.
How can we find the strength to do this? We bury our heads in his mane. We turn to him in prayer. Christ will give us his lion-strength and his loving consolation.
The others said some very bitter things to Lucy at first, when she wakened them and told them they had to follow her and Aslan. But even so, it all turned out very well for her in the end. It always turns out well in the long run when we follow Christ.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
His Solutions Always Work
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
One of my favorite parts of Prince Caspian occurs when the dwarf Trumpkin has been sent to look for the help that Prince Caspian and his friends have summoned by the use of Queen Susan's magic horn. By this time, the Pevensie children had left Narnia after growing up there and reigning as kings and queens, and in Narnia time, hundreds of years have passed since their departure.
But the winding of her horn has called Susan, Peter, Edmund, and Lucy back to Narnia from England. However, when they had returned to England, no time at all had passed there, and they are children again. It is only a year later in England time when they find themselves in Narnia again, alone, amid the ruins of their former castle, on an island.
When Trumpkin shows up and tells them all that has happened in Narnia since they left, they all realize that they have been called back by Susan's magic horn. But Trumpkin doesn't believe that four children will be of much use; he thinks that Aslan's answer to the blowing of the horn has been pretty impractical.
The passage about how the children show Trumpkin otherwise is too long for me to quote here, but I can summarize it. First Edmund asks Trumpkin to indulge him in a swordfight ("Kids like us don't often have the chance of meeting a great warrior like you"). Edmund, who has regained his old Narnian skills, of course beats Trumpkin, though Trumpkin is no mean swordsman. Then Susan challenges Trumpkin to an archery contest. Susan was a famous archer as a queen, and she also wins fair and square, despite the fact that Trumpkin is quite skilled. Then when Trumpkin reveals he is injured, Lucy cures his wound instantly with her magic vial that she had retrieved from the castle treasury.
Trumpkin acknowledges that he had judged too hastily. The aid that Aslan sent in answer to their call was good and useful, indeed excellent help after all, even though Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy did not appear to be anything other than four children.
Just like Aslan, Christ knows what he's doing when he answers our prayers. Sometimes his answers don't look practical to us. Sometimes we think we've got a better idea. But we never have a better idea. We can trust what he tells us in the Bible. His solutions always work.
One of my favorite parts of Prince Caspian occurs when the dwarf Trumpkin has been sent to look for the help that Prince Caspian and his friends have summoned by the use of Queen Susan's magic horn. By this time, the Pevensie children had left Narnia after growing up there and reigning as kings and queens, and in Narnia time, hundreds of years have passed since their departure.
But the winding of her horn has called Susan, Peter, Edmund, and Lucy back to Narnia from England. However, when they had returned to England, no time at all had passed there, and they are children again. It is only a year later in England time when they find themselves in Narnia again, alone, amid the ruins of their former castle, on an island.
When Trumpkin shows up and tells them all that has happened in Narnia since they left, they all realize that they have been called back by Susan's magic horn. But Trumpkin doesn't believe that four children will be of much use; he thinks that Aslan's answer to the blowing of the horn has been pretty impractical.
The passage about how the children show Trumpkin otherwise is too long for me to quote here, but I can summarize it. First Edmund asks Trumpkin to indulge him in a swordfight ("Kids like us don't often have the chance of meeting a great warrior like you"). Edmund, who has regained his old Narnian skills, of course beats Trumpkin, though Trumpkin is no mean swordsman. Then Susan challenges Trumpkin to an archery contest. Susan was a famous archer as a queen, and she also wins fair and square, despite the fact that Trumpkin is quite skilled. Then when Trumpkin reveals he is injured, Lucy cures his wound instantly with her magic vial that she had retrieved from the castle treasury.
Trumpkin acknowledges that he had judged too hastily. The aid that Aslan sent in answer to their call was good and useful, indeed excellent help after all, even though Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy did not appear to be anything other than four children.
Just like Aslan, Christ knows what he's doing when he answers our prayers. Sometimes his answers don't look practical to us. Sometimes we think we've got a better idea. But we never have a better idea. We can trust what he tells us in the Bible. His solutions always work.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Deeper Magic from before the Dawn of Time
(This post is part of a series of posts about The Chronicles of Narnia.)
In The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe, one of the Pevensie children, Edmund, betrays the other children to the evil White Witch. The Christ figure, the lion Aslan, organizes Edmund's rescue from the Witch, but she turns up to demand him back as a sacrificial victim. This is according to the Deep Magic from the dawn of time, by which rule all traitors belong to her. To the dismay of all the children, Aslan says he cannot refuse her. But he works out a secret deal with her, and she gives up her claim.
In the night, Susan and Lucy Pevensie follow Aslan as he surreptitiously leaves their camp and goes to the camp of the White Witch. There he gives himself over to her power and allows himself to be slaughtered on a Stone Table by her followers. This was Aslan's deal; he gave himself up in Edmund's place. Lucy and Susan are distraught with grief, and watch over Aslan's body after the Witch and her followers leave. But when dawn arrives, Aslan miraculously comes back to life!
This is Deeper Magic from before the dawn of time. Aslan explains it:
"It means," said Aslan, "that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards."
The forces of evil in the world think that they know what they are doing. They think that they may triumph. But they do not know everything. It is God who really knows everything.
Like Christ, Aslan gives himself to pay for the wrongdoing of Edmund. Only Christ's sacrifice is made not just for one person, but for the wrongdoing of all of us. We are all the lawful sacrificial victims of evil, and ultimate death is where we are headed. God cannot alter this deep magic from the dawn of time. But he has made a deal with evil, and has given himself in our place, a willing victim who has committed no treachery.
Because of Christ's sacrifice of himself, Death has started working backwards for all those who acknowledge what he has done. We are no longer headed for ultimate death once we submit our lives to Christ.
After Aslan comes back to life, he runs through Narnia on business that needs doing, and he allows Lucy and Susan to ride on his back. Lewis says that ride "was the most wonderful thing that happened to them in Narnia." When we give ourselves to Christ, our lives become a wonderful ride on Aslan's back. There are, to be sure, ups and downs, but it's a journey worth taking.
In The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe, one of the Pevensie children, Edmund, betrays the other children to the evil White Witch. The Christ figure, the lion Aslan, organizes Edmund's rescue from the Witch, but she turns up to demand him back as a sacrificial victim. This is according to the Deep Magic from the dawn of time, by which rule all traitors belong to her. To the dismay of all the children, Aslan says he cannot refuse her. But he works out a secret deal with her, and she gives up her claim.
In the night, Susan and Lucy Pevensie follow Aslan as he surreptitiously leaves their camp and goes to the camp of the White Witch. There he gives himself over to her power and allows himself to be slaughtered on a Stone Table by her followers. This was Aslan's deal; he gave himself up in Edmund's place. Lucy and Susan are distraught with grief, and watch over Aslan's body after the Witch and her followers leave. But when dawn arrives, Aslan miraculously comes back to life!
This is Deeper Magic from before the dawn of time. Aslan explains it:
"It means," said Aslan, "that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards."
The forces of evil in the world think that they know what they are doing. They think that they may triumph. But they do not know everything. It is God who really knows everything.
Like Christ, Aslan gives himself to pay for the wrongdoing of Edmund. Only Christ's sacrifice is made not just for one person, but for the wrongdoing of all of us. We are all the lawful sacrificial victims of evil, and ultimate death is where we are headed. God cannot alter this deep magic from the dawn of time. But he has made a deal with evil, and has given himself in our place, a willing victim who has committed no treachery.
Because of Christ's sacrifice of himself, Death has started working backwards for all those who acknowledge what he has done. We are no longer headed for ultimate death once we submit our lives to Christ.
After Aslan comes back to life, he runs through Narnia on business that needs doing, and he allows Lucy and Susan to ride on his back. Lewis says that ride "was the most wonderful thing that happened to them in Narnia." When we give ourselves to Christ, our lives become a wonderful ride on Aslan's back. There are, to be sure, ups and downs, but it's a journey worth taking.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Character of Aslan
This is the first of a series of blog postings I am planning to write about the Chronicles of Narnia series, by C. S. Lewis. I have read the series many times, and I reread it again last summer (2010). With the release of the film Voyage of the Dawn Treader, I decided I wanted to write about some of the key passages in the seven books. So here is the first one, as I go through the books in order.
From The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe, Chapter 8, when the four Pevensie children are talking with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver about Aslan:
"Is—is he a man?" asked Lucy.
"Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion."
"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. "Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."
"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."
"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
"I'm longing to see him," said Peter, "even if I feel frightened when it comes to the point."
Aslan is the character that Lewis uses throughout the Narnia books to represent Christ. And here we see some of the key feelings towards Aslan and ideas about him that the creatures of Narnia have, that the four children will end up having, and that Lewis intends for us to have by extension concerning Christ.
First, Aslan/Christ is not safe. He's not a tame teacher or leader who fits our preconceived ideas of what is right or what ought to be. He has his own agenda. He knows the world better than we do. He knows right and wrong better than we do. He knows us better than we know ourselves. And when one day we meet him, if we can appear before him without our knees knocking, then we are, as Lewis says, braver than most or else just silly.
Second, Aslan/Christ is not safe, but he's good. We can trust him to do what is right and fair, even when we don't understand why he does what he does. We can give our lives to his control and trust that they are in good hands. The children find this out again and again during their adventures in Narnia, and I have found it out again and again in my life, as have many others too many to count. He surprises us in the end with how he was right, and fair, all along. He is good.
Third, Aslan/Christ is the King. He's not just a friend or an advisor, though he is those things as well. In our times we don't like hierarchy, and we don't like bosses (we have "managers" instead at work). But nevertheless, he is the King. He is utterly in authority. And he has the right to be so, because he is so much greater and wiser than we are; he made us. And remember, he is good, even through the bad times. We have a King who is thoroughly good.
I love Peter's response at the end of this passage. "I'm longing to see him," said Peter, "even if I feel frightened when it comes to the point." That is how all those who know Christ feel about him. He is so good, so wonderful, so winsome, that we long to be with him. And as we read through the Narnia books, we find that that is what the Pevensie children long for too. Unlike in the movies, they do not long for the restoration of their ability to be kings and queens again. No, what they long for is Aslan. He is not safe, but he is good.
From The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe, Chapter 8, when the four Pevensie children are talking with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver about Aslan:
"Is—is he a man?" asked Lucy.
"Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion."
"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. "Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."
"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."
"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
"I'm longing to see him," said Peter, "even if I feel frightened when it comes to the point."
Aslan is the character that Lewis uses throughout the Narnia books to represent Christ. And here we see some of the key feelings towards Aslan and ideas about him that the creatures of Narnia have, that the four children will end up having, and that Lewis intends for us to have by extension concerning Christ.
First, Aslan/Christ is not safe. He's not a tame teacher or leader who fits our preconceived ideas of what is right or what ought to be. He has his own agenda. He knows the world better than we do. He knows right and wrong better than we do. He knows us better than we know ourselves. And when one day we meet him, if we can appear before him without our knees knocking, then we are, as Lewis says, braver than most or else just silly.
Second, Aslan/Christ is not safe, but he's good. We can trust him to do what is right and fair, even when we don't understand why he does what he does. We can give our lives to his control and trust that they are in good hands. The children find this out again and again during their adventures in Narnia, and I have found it out again and again in my life, as have many others too many to count. He surprises us in the end with how he was right, and fair, all along. He is good.
Third, Aslan/Christ is the King. He's not just a friend or an advisor, though he is those things as well. In our times we don't like hierarchy, and we don't like bosses (we have "managers" instead at work). But nevertheless, he is the King. He is utterly in authority. And he has the right to be so, because he is so much greater and wiser than we are; he made us. And remember, he is good, even through the bad times. We have a King who is thoroughly good.
I love Peter's response at the end of this passage. "I'm longing to see him," said Peter, "even if I feel frightened when it comes to the point." That is how all those who know Christ feel about him. He is so good, so wonderful, so winsome, that we long to be with him. And as we read through the Narnia books, we find that that is what the Pevensie children long for too. Unlike in the movies, they do not long for the restoration of their ability to be kings and queens again. No, what they long for is Aslan. He is not safe, but he is good.
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