Yes, I know the last blog dealt with Lewis' film opening tomorrow. And I was ready to move on, but having just completed a fresh reading of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, I'm convinced that this little classic has a lot to tell us about worship and the spiritual life. Actually, much more to tell us than the myriad of books dealing with slick marketing and self-help books that seem to dominate the evangelical subculture. In a USA Today article last week, "Is That Lion the King of Kings?" the question was raised as to whether Lewis' film should be understood as a "rip-roaring piece of fantasy--or a fairy tale suffused with Christian imagery?" The answer appears to be both, and Disney is doing its best to market the movie on two tracks, as a cross between The Lord of the Rings and The Passion of the Christ. And all indications suggest that they will succeed. In a Big Way.
But it is clear that, while Lewis set out to write a children's book that would be remarkably exciting and adventurous, he also had a distinct purpose for his writing. He wrote: "I thought I saw how stories of this kind could steal past certain inhibitions which had paralyzed much of my own religion in childhood. Why did one find it so hard to feel as one was told one ought to feel about God or about the sufferings of Christ?...I thought the chief reason was that one was told one ought to. An obligation to feel can freeze feelings. And reverence itself did harm. The whole subject was associated with lowered voices, almost as if it were something medical...But supposing that by casting all these things into an imaginary world, stripping them of their stained-glass and Sunday school associations, one could make them for the first time appear in their real potency? Could one not thus steal past those watchful dragons? I thought one could." (From "Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What's to Be Said") Has Lewis here not put his finger on one of the great challenges of our day, to have a fresh and vital approach to worship, stripped of the veneer of religiosity? What would it look like to recapture the essence of Lewis' approach in our own day?
As G. K. Chesterton had earlier "baptized" Lewis' imagination through his writings when Lewis was an adolescent, so too he wanted to "sneak past watchful dragons" in his Narnia series to prepare children for the Christian story. But if one reads the book, or sees the film, I'm convinced they will see that Narnia has much to say about our lives, the things we deeply cherish, the things that we desire, and the things that make the thing called life so enchanting and exhilerating! So as we watch the movie with our children, grandchildren, or friends, here are a few things for us to consider:
The Wardrobe...
I mentioned this in the last blog, but the Wardrobe introduces a concept which frequently occurs in all of the Narnia books: "The inside is bigger than the outside." While from the outside, the Wardrobe the Pevensie children enter to get to Narnia looks rather ordinary, it actually leads them to this other, mysterious world. Lewis hated "reductionistic" thinking in which all reality is reduced to the "visible, tangible." The Wardrobe serves as the vehicle for this unseen, spiritual, though real, world. But here's the kicker. The children can't always get into Narnia through the Wardrobe. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. Lewis was challenging our thinking in terms of how we view God.
The Great Lion...
There has been much press of late about Lewis' letter denouncing any kind of "cartoon" Aslan. But if Disney has done their job well (trailers of the film suggest they have), Lewis may have been quite pleased with this Aslan-on-the-big-screen. Make no mistake about it, the Aslan of Narnia is a flesh-and-blood lion, and he awakens fear in the children as much as delight. Mr. Beaver reminds Lucy that while Aslan "isn't safe, he is good." Peter will later admit, "I'm longing to see him...even if I do feel frightened when it comes to the point." A lot of our feel-good, "Jesus is my buddy" worship, could use a dose of Aslan...
Sin and Evil...
While the modern world tends to see evil as mysterious and interesting, and good as bland and boring, in Narnia, they are reversed. The Wicked White Witch is cruel and colorless, while it is Aslan who is mysterious and exciting. His golden face is full of life, while her starched face is monotonous in its cruelty, hatred, and obsession with power. Lewis, building on his understanding of Saint Augustine, is intimating to us that sin and evil have no existence of their own, but are only the parasites of good.
Sacrifice and Salvation...
While Aslan's death and resurrection are pivotal events in the book, and invite comparison with the Biblical narrative, Lewis avoided making a precise parallel to the Bible. A key aspect of the story is that sin deserves death. When the children understand that Edmund has become a traitor, and therefore deserves death, Lucy asks whether Aslan can save him. Aslan responds, "All shall be done...But it may be harder than you think." She doesn't realize the price Aslan will have to pay. Later, Aslan gives us the meaning of his own death, when he says that if the Witch could have looked into the darkness before time, 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..." I'll leave you to ponder that one on your own...
Father Christmas...
In Narnia, there is no competition between Santa Claus and the celebration of Jesus' birth. Father Christmas is portrayed by Lewis as subservient to Aslan, and his presence heralds the coming of Christmas, something the Witch had always kept from happening. And Father Christmas brings gifts, but they are to be understood as tools, not simply toys. The children will need them in their struggle with the Wicked Witch and her evil forces. Lewis is suggesting to us that the gifts and blessings given to us should never be squandered or held back, but put to good use. Once a gift is given, it cannot be taken away, although it can be misused or ignored. For "once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen." Now that is a different take on Christmas, wouldn't you say?
-Barry Morrow
