Lo’s Literary Life Lessons: Finding Truth in Fiction: The Chronicles of Narnia
Glen Carrrie on Upsplash
Truth # 1 Submitting to Death Destroys its Power
I begin this blog series with The Chronicles of Narnia because it has perhaps the most obvious parallels with Christianity. C.S. Lewis was a devout christian who wrote theological books as well as fiction. His book, Mere Christianity, greatly influenced my faith in high school. However, long before I could articulate things like sin or sanctification the story of Lucy and her savior Aslan illustrated how Jesus’ resurrection changed the world.
My mother read me the Chronicles of Narnia as a child; one chapter every night. I identified with Lucy quite a bit. She was the youngest of four children like me. I too got lost in the woods and even our names started with the same letter. Lucy’s unwavering faith in Aslan mirrored my own devotion to Jesus from a young age.
The Chronicles of Narnia follow a group of children adventuring in the magical world of Narnia. The story begins when Lucy, a young girl living at a country estate during The Blitz, hides in a wardrobe and finds herself in a forest. There she meets a fawn named Mr. Tumnus, who explains that the world of Narnia is under the spell of the White Witch so that it is, “Always winter and never Christmas” (can you imagine?) and that those who oppose her are turned into stone. Eventually Lucy’s siblings Peter, Susan, and Edmund also come through the wardrobe. They hear the story of Aslan, a great lion, the Son of the Emperor-Over-The-Sea, King of Kings and Lord of the Beasts, who has come to save the land from the evil witch. Edmund, the younger brother, betrays his siblings and their friends to the White Witch forfeiting his life. Aslan trades his life for that of Edmund and the White Witch slays him on the ancient stone table. However, when morning comes the stone table cracks and the Lion rises greater than ever before. Susan and Lucy, weeping at the place where he has died, find themselves face to face with the newly risen prince. At this moment Susan asks quite plainly, “What does it all mean?”
“‘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.’”
By sacrificing himself Aslan fundamentally alters how death operates in the world. He breaks the stone table; the symbol of death itself, and in doing so negates the ability of the White Which to claim the lives of traitors forever. Following Aslan’s resurrection, Susan and Lucy go to their brothers and allies to proclaim the rising of Aslan and ready for the final battle against the evil White Witch.
In the gospel of John we hear the story of Mary weeping at the tomb before being confronted by the Prince of Peace himself. The parallels in these two stories are hard to miss. Women weep. The dead return to life. The women are sent to their male counterparts . Aslan is clearly Jesus. The White Witch is death which claims us because we are sinners. We are Lucy and Susan and all those who follow Christ with the hope of defeating evil.
“But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.”
I understood from a very young age (as I think most children do) that death is a mighty force in our world. It is something our parents cannot protect us from. A power that rages in our world regardless of wealth or influence. It comes for the young and old, healthy and sick. Our sin gives all of us over to death the way that Edmund’s betrayal put him under the jurisdiction of the White Witch.
Recognizing the absolute power of death as a kid did not make it immediately clear how Jesus’ resurrection could liberate me from it. I knew I was imperfect. I knew I deserved to die for my sins but I couldn’t quite work out how Jesus’ dying negated my just death sentence. Now, many years later, as a theologian and pastor I would tell you about atonement theories: ransom theory, recapitulation theory, satisfaction theory, or penal substitution theory.
Look at those big words. I can barely spell three out of four of them correctly. Imagine ten year old Laurel trying to understand how this all worked.
I couldn’t quite figure out Jesus but I did know Aslan. I had Mr. Tumnus and Mr. Beaver telling me about this prince, the son of an all powerful being that created the world, who sacrificed himself for the broken and imperfect.
By sacrificing himself Aslan fundamentally alters how death operates in the world. He breaks the stone table; the symbol of death itself. He takes away the power of the White Which to claim the lives of traitors forever. The world is fundamentally reordered with death no longer having the last word.
This was something I could understand as a child. I could understand that the good love of Aslan was more powerful than the evil curse of the White Witch. I didn’t understand atonement theories but I could recognize when one force was more powerful than another in the world.
As Aslan broke the stone table, Jesus destroyed death’s power over us. When Jesus, the only perfect human being to ever exist, died a traitor’s death to the most powerful empire in the world, willingly and without resistance, he too completely reordered the world. That which once held ultimate power over us: death, was rendered inert and powerless.
Now that I am older I can use fancy words for atonement and the way this all works. I can argue for the belief in God and the quote scripture and theologians equally to prove how Jesus redeemed us. Yet, I have not quite left Narnia behind. When I was young I fancied myself Lucy. The older I get the more I realize I am really more of an Edmund. I am more than willing to betray even those closest to me for things I think I need or want. I make the wrong choice. I always will. Left to my own devices, left to the law alone, I would be given over to death. Luckily, I, like Edmund, am claimed by someone greater than I; by the most perfect being to ever exist, the son of the creator, and the King of Kings.
The story of Lucy entering a magical land through a wardrobe claimed my heart and imagination when I was a young girl running around the woods. It wasn’t until years that I realized how all the pretend conversations I had with Aslan were really prayers to the Prince of Peace himself. That all the time I spent acting like Lucy would lead me to proclaim the resurrection of Jesus from a pulpit. That as I gradually went from resenting Edmund to empathizing with him I was recognizing my own brokenness.
So, I still hold these stories close. I still read them during the long winter months when I long for spring. Every time I do I find myself drawing closer to the great Lion, the son of the Emperor-Across-the-Sea because he loves me so dearly. And when I return to the real world I have even more faith that Jesus’ resurrection has so altered the world, death itself, that life here and now is just as magical as any far away land could ever be.