Chapter 16: The Very End of the World

King Caspian endures a stern rebuff by his fellow passengers in this chapter. Caspian desires to go with Reepicheep to see the World's End, but is told, by several voices, he may not. Reepicheep sums up their sentiments well, "You shall not please yourself with adventures as if you were a private person."

There are a couple of things in this statement which chill me.

1) "You shall not please yourself..." It reminds me how often I do live for my self, even if it is so I feel better about myself by doing a perceived selfless act. Do I serve others with a mind of my calling, or do I lean toward my own ambition, desire?

As kings and queens, our time here is not for our personal satisfaction. We are responsible to rule, to serve the citizens of Narnia, the (talking) beasts, the kingdom itself. It is a great responsibility. But one for which we were created.

This isn't to say Caspian (or we) can't have any fun. I believe Caspian has very much enjoyed time with his friends - as we see his sadness at their departure. But his friends also remind him his role, his journey, was to recover lost people. It was never meant to be a pleasure seeking boondoggle.

2) The other part of Reepicheep's reminder - "as if you were a private person" - echoes community for me. I am never meant to be or see myself as a solitary person. I am part of the people of God. We are on a quest. Together. Not a bunch of individuals in the same boat. We, collectively, share an identity - as a particular church (Lakeland) and as part of Christ's church (worldwide). To see my journey as separate from this collective identity is "called deserting" by Rynelf. I think this is why my heart aches when some friends leave the church. It lessens the whole entity. And we are all diminished by their absence.

Caspian's bullheadedness triggers a "meeting" with Aslan. He "speaks" to Caspian, bringing him to his senses. Aslan is described as "terrible", stern when necessary, but all done out of love. He desires Caspian to live into the life for which he was created. This is a marvelous reminder; when I do forget my role, Aslan will redirect me and steer me back.

I can't end this post without including my favorite lines by Aslan, " ... 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." Yes! Isn't this why we love the Chronicles series? We learn about Aslan, understand his heart toward us. We are drawn to the character there because we see reflections of the Father here.

"But you shall meet me, dear one". May you desire the not tame lion above all else.

Chapter 15: The Wonders of the Last Sea

Water is underrated.

How often do you LONG for water? What rapturous adjectives describe it? How many of you are looking forward to water for your Christmas dinner?

I found myself thinking about the attributes of water (or lack thereof) as I read about the "sweet" water at the end of the world. The little value the water seemed to have was lost when Reepicheep clarified "sweet" meant "fresh," as in not salt (I was imagining a favorite flavor – or something with a kick!).

So the Narnians braved this amazing journey to the end of the world to find…water. How disappointing.

Or is it? Perhaps the issue is not the lack of water’s value, but the lack of my appreciation of it. Are my circumstances causing me to miss something important here?

• I am reminded of camping. We bring in all of our water, and suddenly every drop is guarded as we cook, clean, and drink.
• I think of the Haitians. Newly tortured by cholera (a water-borne killer), fresh water actually means life to them.

Hmmm…

The description of this wonder of the last sea continues:

• The water "shone like glass."
• After drinking, the King was changed. "Not only his eyes but everything about him seemed to be brighter."
• Caspian says, "That’s real water, that. It – it’s like light more than anything else."
• "It’s the loveliest thing I have ever tasted," Lucy said with a kind of gasp. "But oh – it’s strong. We shan’t need to eat anything now."
• After drinking, "for a long time they were all silent. They felt almost too well and strong to bear it."
• "Hardly a word was spoken on board all that day, till about dinner-time (no one wanted any dinner, the water was enough for them)…"

There is something deep going on. Holy, even.

This water is filling and changing them in a way they had never been filled or changed before. The water was enough for them.

(There is a beautiful connection here to the commentary from Chapter 12: The Dark Island. Lucy was changed… )

Listen to what Scripture says about water and thirst:

• Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. (John 7:37-39)
• God describes the restoration of His people: "They will neither hunger nor thirst, nor will the desert heat or the sun beat upon them. He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water." (Isaiah 49:10)

Sounds…nice. I am underwhelmed.

Perhaps my problem is that I don’t often (ever?) feel thirst, the real thing. We know such immediate responses to this instinct (and often meet it as a want rather than a need), that the power of being thirsty is lost. We don’t relate to what God means.

And then we equate His response to our spiritual thirst to the physical thirst we barely know. And we are disappointed. Or underwhelmed.

Perhaps His response to our souls is much deeper, more alive, beyond what we ever thought or could have imagined. Perhaps His living water is like light – that shines and changes us.
Perhaps His love is not just a version of love we’ve tasted before, but an entirely different love so strong that, like Lucy, we can hardly bear it. We find no need for the ordinary just as the Narnians found no need for food. Perhaps there is a silence wherein we find that He is enough.

C.S. Lewis wrote, "If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desire, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." (The Weight of Glory)

Where do you settle for too little?

Chapter 13: The Three Sleepers

Aslan sets a lavished table every day for a great feast. It is there for the eating for any who would like to have it.

The three Narnian Lords came and sat at this table. But they didn't eat, instead they began to argue and fight among themselves. They touched the only object on the table humans were not meant to touch (the stone knife) and so fell into a deep sleep. Now they can do nothing but sleep until the curse is broken.

The crew of the Dawn Treader comes, but seeing the three sleepers makes them afraid to eat the food.

How familiar this story is...

The Lord God sets a lavish table for us. The world is filled with wonderful foods, exotic places, the joy of friends, and fun, and even sexual love with a spouse of our choosing.

But we come to Aslan's table and immediately begin fighting amongst ourselves. We turn all the food into some corn derrivative, add cancer-feeding chemicals, and enough sugar to send a hummingbird into insulin shock. Into the exotic places we spew toxic fumes, dig pits and fill them with crude oil, and pile up mountains of trash. We trade fun for cheap thrills, past-times for obsessions, and sex for disgusting displays that leave us feeling dirty at best and bored at worse.

Now when people look on what we've done with the world, it makes them suspicious of God. "What sort of God?" they ask, "Would set a table like this?" Until the curse is broken, no one can do anything but sleep through God's lavish feast.

There is indeed a curse upon our creation, but it is Jesus who has broken the curse and made a way into Aslan's country. Each time someone decides to pursue that kingdom, they and those they are closests to begin to wake up.

When my friend decides to go to Africa to heal women of diseases, I too realize that this is more important than my own desire to give my teeth an expensive bleaching. I want to pursue THAT kingdom instead!

When a member of my family prayers five times a day, I too realize that this more important than my own desire to follow my favorite TV show on Netflix. I want to pursue prayer instead!

When my family watches A Christmas Carol:

• My daughter (8) says, "The most important thing to Scrooge is money."
• My son (6) says, "The most important thing to me is God."

...I can only sit on the sofa and cry tears of happiness. My children are not asleep at the table of God. They are awake, and they will have the feast he has made for them.

Chapter 14: The Beginning of the End of the World

When we are close to the end of a massive undertaking, there often comes a decision point. Do we call it quits, or carry on to the end? This is precisely the juncture the adventurers faced in this chapter. They had to make up their minds if they would continue to “the very end of the world,” or stop where they were – “the beginning of the end of the world.” Other than the initial choice to embark on the journey, I reckon that this decision – to forge ahead when one doesn’t yet have the end in sight – is the most difficult.

Indulge me with what might seem like a silly example to most. Particularly since a skiing ‘incident’ (let’s just say it required a snowmobile to get me down the mountain) in 2009, I have been less than friendly with the feeling of rapidly sliding downward from a high place. So, when I saw the colossal waterslide at Lakeland camp, I knew we would not get along. But my husband and our friends were having so much fun! With a mixture of daring myself and abject terror, I decided to try it. On the way up the steps I tried to take comfort in the fact that my five-year-old niece wasn’t afraid. I begged my husband and the waterslide operator to give me tips on how to go as slowly as possible. Even so, at the top I had to resolve again – much like Caspian and his gang – whether I really would go through with it. I could’ve backtracked sheepishly down the stairs, in the same way that one lone sailor remained behind on the Island of the Star. But in the crucial moment, I decided to go for it. As I tried to smash my mat down with all my might, I realized that I was leaning back and holding my breath. That helped me feel more in control, but it also felt more frightening. Then, in my mind, I ‘heard’ an instruction to “lean forward and breathe.” Though it felt like losing control, it also slowed me down. I made it all the way to the bottom – without flying over the edge or dying of fright. As a person who tends to tread lightly through life, these simple instructions – “lean forward and breathe” – remind me to embrace my day and be present.

So when in a moment of pain or danger, try to picture your future self. What choice would make you proud of yourself once you are out of the fear and darkness? It’s easy to be an ‘armchair’ adventurer, but much more difficult to seize the opportunity when it presents itself.

Chapter 12: The Dark Island

As we see our friends approaching the Dark Island, we’re reminded of the fear ~ the gripping, irrational, overwhelming fear ~ we can experience in our worst dreams. Unlike so much of Narnia, where the most amazing and delightful magical things are everyday reality, on the Dark Island we see how we can become paralyzed by our fear of the unknown.

As they sit on the ship, helpless, anxious and (aside from the fearless Reepicheep) thoroughly desperate to find a way to retreat from the dark abyss, Lucy whispers a prayer.

I love this moment. Lucy certainly doesn't treat Aslan with a “vending machine” attitude. She has treasured her relationship with Aslan, but she has never seemed to demand his presence or beg him for things. But she is quite aware, even in her fear & terrifying circumstance, exactly who to cry out for -- the only one who is able to save her.

“Aslan, Aslan, if you ever loved us at all, send us help now.”

I once asked a friend, quite directly, “I want to know. Does prayer actually bend the hand of God?” I was tired of wondering if my prayers were in vain. Or telling people, “Of course I'll pray for you!” only to wonder if it was even worth the time. My wise friend quickly answered, “Well, I don’t know if it changes God’s hand, but I do know it always changes the one who prays.”

And I see that truth here, in Lewis’ depiction of Lucy’s plea to Aslan. For though we do not see even one detail immediately change regarding their dire situation, Lewis’ writes that Lucy changed. She began to feel “a little better.” And soon, she sees a beam of light...and hears the voice whispering back to her, “Courage, dear heart.”

How beautiful is that? As she quiets her heart in the midst of the darkness and prays, Lucy is changed.

(Interesting note: C.S. Lewis illustrates this principle of prayer in the The Last Battle as well. As Tirian is left alone, tied to a tree, he calls out, "Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Come and help us now!" There the brilliant Lewis writes, "There was no change in the night or the wood, but there began to be a kind of change in Tirian. Without knowing why, he began to feel a faint hope.")

I want to be like Lucy. She abides & trusts -- and she alone was able to hear the voice she was sure was Aslan’s ~ even on the Dark Island.

Chapter 11: The Dufflepuds Made Happy

Most of us are Dufflepuds. Some of us are Magicians. A very few of us are Stars.

C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and Owen Barfield were all Oxford Professors and part of a small intellectual group called The Inklings. We need to understand these mens' mind. All were experts in Medieval philosophy and literature such as Ptolemy and Dante's Inferno. Like his friends, Lewis believed the ancient mind was better. They believed in "a noble savage." Don't think of the "pre-historic homonoids" like Cro-magnans or Neandrathals - cave men and the like. But rather think of Lewis' Narnia and Tolkien's Middle Earth, both populated with "proper thinking" beings, elves, dwarves, talking trees, mountains with feelings, and Kings and Queens endowed with wisdom, true beauty and nobility. These Originals did not split the world into science and philosophy, like biology and Existentialism. The world was all a single unified Oneness. God was present and walked amongst the creation. There was no need for magic because nothing was impossible.

In The Chronicles of Narnia Lewis is attempting to educate the reader in the way humans are originally designed to perceive the universe. Of course the only way to properly educate anyone, The Inklings would say, is with "myth" or story, poetry and song - a Tale - thus, Narnia. To simply give a lecture about the primordial world would be just plain Dufflepud. Lewis wants us to correlate the Dufflepuds to Modern humanity, so full of "rational thinking," black and white politics, scientific facts and even "Atheism," as though a person could actually belief their is no God because they reasoned it out with their rational mind.

The noble savage could speak with trees not because they were magicians but because trees talk. The elves in Tolkien's The Lord of Rings don't understand when the Hobbits ask them if they are using magic. Magic? What is that? No, they learned the trees' language and spoke to them and taught them how to talk. In Narnia the animals speak because they are "awake," or rather the humans are awake.

So Dufflepuds... not too smart, eh? They cannot think for themselves. They only do what their tribal Chief tells them. Figuratively speaking, they are blind. Lewis' message is clear: "Modern man/woman is a fool. They've rationalized away God and the real universe." In thinking they are smarter and better than the past races of man, they only end up stupid Dufflepuds.

I reflect upon the November elections and the mudslinging and banal attacks candidates made against each other. It isn't that the politicians are all fools. But the candidates' campaign directors knew that the common Dufflepudder could be swayed by cheap personal attack strategies. We live in a beer-commercial world folks. Sound-bites, sex and bathroom humor sells to Dufflepuds, because we don't know how to think.

Garrett Lahey preached last Sunday at Lakeland about John's Revelation and 'the mark of the beast.' He said we already have the mark on our forehead and hand IF we've bought in to our culture's storyline for 'successful living...' affluence, greatness, power, dominance, comfort, fear, competition and compulsion (those are my words, not Garrett's). What we must strive for is a G-d worldview - that is, to see things as the unknowable G-d might see them. Jesus comes to show how this is done. He is the Star. He asks his followers to be Magicians - Seers, Wisemen/women, Wizards who have an integrated worldview where G-d is present everywhere because G-d is actually everywhere.

What if Narnia wasn't a story? What if Narnia was real? What if there was a different visible reality all around us that we just needed the proper vision to see? This much is certainly true: if G-d is here, then so is his reality. Pray for vision!

¹⁴ In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah:

“‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding;
you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.
¹⁵ For this people’s heart has become calloused;
they hardly hear with their ears,
and they have closed their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
hear with their ears,
understand with their hearts
and turn, and I would heal them.’

¹⁶ But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear. - Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 13

Chapter 10: The Magician's Book

It was difficult to choose one thing from this chapter, but I've settled on an exchange between Lucy and Aslan. Lucy has just finished reading the invisible to visible spell in the Magician's book when she discovers Aslan is with her.
"Oh, Aslan," said she, "it was kind of you to come."
"I have been here all the time," said he, "but you have just made me visible."
"Aslan!" said Lucy almost a little reproachfully. "Don't make fun of me. As if anything I could do would make you visible!"
"It did," said Aslan. "Do you think I wouldn't obey my own rules?"

I am so enamored with this realization --- Lucy has the ability to make Aslan appear. It is because Aslan is obeying his own rules, but Lucy's actions are key to his appearing.

You and I have this same ability. Our actions have the ability to cause people to see the Father. You and me. Our actions can reveal him.

This is mind-boggling. You and I have power to reveal the Maker of the universe?! On one hand, I know it is true because I've seen it happen. People have been loving or forgiving or encouraging to me or someone else and when I see it, I can easily say - that is nothing less than the living God moving and acting. I've seen someone say words to a friend, words that were not yet true, words containing great hope of who my friend might become. And then my friend lived into making those words true and real. I've seen a friend forgive someone who broke a deep trust, who took a part of his heart and truly was intentional on hurting him. The forgiving revealed the Father to me as surely as if he was standing next to me.

Can you relate?

On the other hand, I think I minimize my ability to cause the High King of Heaven to be revealed to anyone. I, like Lucy, doubt if anything I could do would make him visible. What good will this small tithe do? What difference will this small kindness make? How will saying these words change anything?

Can you relate?

Have you seen God revealed by someone else? I'd love to hear about it.

When have you revealed God to someone else? Maybe in the re-telling, it might reveal Aslan all over again.