Easter Joy

So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. (Matthew 28:8)

I recently re-read C.S. Lewis's masterpiece of children's literature, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. I read it as a child – it still is my favorite of the Narnia series – but back then it was just a fun adventure story in which all of the allegory and Christian allusions were completely lost on me. It has taken returning to it as an adult to fully appreciate what Lewis was trying to say, and to see particular passages in a completely new light. Today's article is about one such passage which I thought was especially appropriate for the day, so we are taking a brief break from our journey to the Lonely Mountain with Bilbo.

In Lewis's land of Narnia, the lion Aslan quite clearly represents Christ. At the climax of the book, he gives himself to the White Witch to be killed in the place of Edmund, who failed to bring his siblings to her as she asked. Later, Lucy and Susan sneak away from the camp and return to the Stone Table where the terrible deed took place. There, they are surprised to find Aslan as he was when they first met him, very much alive and returned to his former leonine glory. Like the women who discover the empty tomb, the girls are in awe and probably a bit afraid, but both they and Aslan are overcome with great happiness, as demonstrated by what happens next:

"He stood for a second, his eyes very bright, his limbs quivering, lashing himself with his tail. Then he made a leap high over their heads and landed on the other side of the Table. Laughing, though she didn't know why, Lucy scrambled over it to reach him. Aslan leaped again. A mad chase began. Round and round the hilltop he led them, now hopelessly out of their reach, now letting them almost catch his tail, now diving between them, now tossing them in the air with his huge and beautifully velveted paws and catching them again, and now stopping unexpectedly so that all three of them rolled over together in a happy laughing heap of fur and arms and legs. It was such a romp as no one has ever had except in Narnia; and whether it was more like playing with a thunderstorm or playing with a kitten Lucy could never make up her mind. And the funny thing was that when all three finally lay together panting in the sun the girls no longer felt in the least tired or hungry or thirsty."

I love Aslan's display of such unbridled joy at his resurrection – it is certainly much different from the picture painted by the gospel writers of Jesus's first tentative encounters with Mary Magdalene and other disciples and followers that Sunday morning. After reading Lewis's description, I can just imagine Jesus, a huge smile on his face, arms spread wide, running to meet his friends, but that's not the picture we get in the Bible. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John describe people hiding in fear and unaware at first that they are talking to the risen Savior, and sometimes even after they recognize Jesus they are still fearful and in awe. If children had been first to meet him after he left the tomb, I bet the scenario would have been much different, and maybe that's the key for all of us. After all, how many times did Jesus tell his disciples that they must be more like children?

He is risen! He is risen indeed! Let us not be restrained, but instead let us run to him, grab his hands, and pull him into our joyful celebrations!

Control Freak

Therefore do not worry, saying "What will we eat?" or "What will we drink?" or "What will we wear?" For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today. (Matthew 6:31-34)

C.S. Lewis is well-known for the Narnia series and for his writings on Christianity, but he's not always remembered for his foray into science fiction in the form of the so-called "Space Trilogy" (Although I use the term "science fiction" loosely – the books do describe a series of journeys to other planets and meetings with alien races, but there is far more fiction than science. In fact, like the Narnia books, they are a thinly-disguised set of treatises on Christian themes). 

When I read Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength, it was the second book that made the biggest impression on me. In it, the protagonist travels to Venus, which is known as Perelandra to its inhabitants. There he finds an oceanic world of floating islands and one green-skinned female humanoid creature, a type of Eve who has been separated from, and spends most of her time searching for, her Adam. 

In the midst of the floating islands is one piece of land that always stays put. The Venusians are allowed to visit it, but they must never spend the night on it – most of their time is to be spent on the floating islands, at the mercy of the wind and waves. At first, the woman tells the Earthman, she thought that the prohibition from dwelling on the fixed island was ridiculous, but eventually she has come to understand it: being on the fixed land made her life less uncertain and caused her to rely less on the protection of Maleldil (her name for God).

"It was to reject the wave – to draw my hands out of Maleldil's, to say to Him, 'Not thus, but thus' – to put in our power what times should roll towards us…as if you gathered fruits together today for tomorrow's eating instead of taking what came. That would have been cold love and feeble trust. And out of it how could we ever have climbed back into love and trust again?"

It's not that I don't trust God, but it's so hard sometimes to relinquish control of my life (or the illusion of control, anyway). I'm not a control freak most of the time, but I do like to be independent and to take care of myself. I wonder if this need I feel for self-reliance is the reason I find myself in my current circumstances – unemployed and dependent on my family for support. I resolve, now and in the future when I'm back on my feet, to accept God's provision and take what comes, secure in the knowledge that I will get what I need.

Low Flying

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)

In The Magician's Nephew, a prequel to the other books in C.S. Lewis's Narnia series, Aslan sends Digory on a mission that will help save the newly created land of Narnia. He gives him a winged horse and these instructions:

"Do not fly too high….Do not try to go over the tops of the great ice-mountains. Look out for the valleys, the green places, and fly through them. There will always be a way through."

Too many times I see obstacles as things to be overcome, surmounted, climbed or jumped over. Aslan's advice seems contrary to my first instinct, but on second thought, it makes so much sense. There are many dangers to being at high, cold altitudes, while the valleys are much warmer, with access to food, water, and shelter if needed. It is much safer to fly between the mountains than over them, but so often I get fixated on a goal and one way to get there and I forget to look for other, better ways to achieve the same ends.

This New Year, I resolve to keep an open mind and look for alternative paths, especially since the paths I have been following haven't yet gotten me where I want to be. I resolve also to trust Aslan's word that "there will always be a way through," and to have faith that it will lead to the place that I need to be, even if that place is not the same as the place I want to be.