A Lesson From Narnia: Are We There Yet?

A Lesson from Narnia: Are We There Yet?

The Narnia film (Disney version) of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (LWW), has a splendid lesson for us regarding our perception of when our work here in this world is done and when everything has finally come about as it should be according to God's plan. This does not always take place when we think it does, in our limited, human way of looking at things. In this writing, a close look is taken at the numerous ways this film wonderfully portrays this truth.

The first instance of our limited human perception of when things are taken care of occurs very early in the story, when the Pevensie children are sent off by train into the countryside to escape the enemy bombardment of their home area in the city. They arrive at the magnificent professor's house in the country and we might easily conclude, with the children, that that is that: They are now safe from harm and nothing dangerous can further happen to them. Just how strong this feeling of safety has dulled their minds and hearts can be seen in the boredom the children display in the old mansion's room on a rainy day. There is nothing to do here; all they have to do is wait for the war to end.

Ah, but in the midst of a children's game of hide and seek, Lucy comes across a doorway out of this world into another--and out of their limited view of their lives into the wider view that prevails beyond this world: The wardrobe ushers her into the magical world of Narnia, where the first hint of danger comes in the eyes of Mr. Tumnus, as he looks around when he first meets Lucy and discovers that she is human. Just being human puts her in danger.

And that is the way it is for us in this world. Just being human puts us in danger, for we have an enemy who "prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Ptr 5:8).

Our enemy, the devil, hates us simply because we are human beings--those whom God has declared will inherit the kingdom (James 2:5) instead of Lucifer/Satan and his wicked angels (1: Cor. 1:9). It is interesting that Scripture describes our enemy as a roaring lion and that a lion is the hero of the Narnia tales and, further, that the enemy there, as in the real world, wants to remove the rightful ruler of the kingdom from the throne and take his place. So, like the enemy of humans in this world, the enemy of humans in the world of Narnia roars like the lion ruler to frighten his subjects into submission to her instead of to him. And she has power to harm them, for a time, to make them do this. Yes, there is real danger here. The children may think that all is calm and at rest in the mansion, but the ruler of Narnia has something more important for them to do than hide away in the countryside. It is not over for them yet. Thus the first inkling of this truth presents itself to the smallest of the children. It will soon sweep over the others as well.

The first time any of the children has access to the other world of Narnia occurs during a game, hide and seek. The second time likewise happens while they still pursue their normal life of being human children by playing a game, this time cricket. This too reflects a truth about how we, as children of God, come to a deeper awareness of who we are and the plans God has to widen our lives. It is as we go about our normal, daily lives that God works his wonderful growth in spirit within us, increasing our awareness of him and our place in his plans and kingdom.

So the children seek escape from their seemingly dull life in the country through a game and unexpectedly find moments later, after the ball smashes through the window, that they are escorted, through the wardrobe, into a far greater escape, into another world entirely. For the first few moments, that is what it seems: an escape from ordinary life in the world to transport into a wondrous world of beauty and snow in another. As they trek towards Mr. Tumnus' house, nothing occurs to make them think otherwise than that this is a safe, wonderfully beautiful land that they have come into.

But then they spy the door to Mr. Tumnus' house kicked in. Immediately they know that something is not right. As they rush to enter that dwelling place, their fears are confirmed: The place has been ransacked and is a mess. Something is definitely not right here, and their sense of danger is further heightened when they discover the notice of Tumnus' arrest. Things are rapidly progressing from safety and playful adventure to danger and the threat of harm. As she looks at the parchment containing the charge of treason against Tumnus, Susan voices the natural reaction to all this: "All right. Now we really should go back!"

Right. That is the natural reaction we humans have to any threat to ourselves. When Jesus first began his ministry on earth, a large crowd of people followed him wherever he went, for he healed their sicknesses, cast out demons, provided food for them--it was all a wonderful time and place to be. But Jesus saw farther and deeper into reality than the crowd did, and he knew that harder times and more serious issues were to come--so serious that it would require a commitment to the point of death on the part of himself and those with him. He told them this plainly, ruining the idyllic mindset many who followed him had of being there with him, and because of this, they no longer followed him (Jn.. 6:1-66).

We cannot blame Susan for feeling as she did. She was simply reacting as any rational human being would react to the threat of danger, and she is known for her logical set of mind and being smart. But while having a good head on one's shoulders is a blessing from God, there are times when God requires of his children that they put aside the natural, instinctive sense of self preservation in order to follow the grander design he has for their lives. And sometimes he whispers this intention of his by using the smallest of means. In the film, a little bird chirps out a "pssst" to the children, and Susan is stunned, asking, "Did that bird just "pssst" us?" He did indeed, and it is the next step in the children's journey to greater awareness that there is a destiny for them that is far different from the smaller, limited one they have been harboring.

The bird leads them outside Tumnus' house, to meeting the beaver, who takes them to yet another house, his own, where the children are further informed of the greater destiny that has been prescribed for them, and they are incredulous all along the way as the beavers tell them more and more about what is expected of them. Now it is Peter's turn to react in incredulity and self preservation, for after hearing that the beavers and all of Narnia expect them to lead an army against the witch, he says incredulously, "We're not heroes!" and Susan chimes in with, "We're from Finchley!"

That scene always makes me laugh, because it is so human, so typical of the way we naturally react when we learn from Scripture and from the Holy Spirit's unfolding of our role in the grand design of God for work in his kingdom. But, Lord, I'm just a little ________ (fill in the blank with your own objection). I'm not capable of doing such a great thing as that for you! But what does Paul say? He says: "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (Phil. 4:13).

But the Pevensie children have not yet arrived at that point in their lives. They need to see yet more of what Aslan has to teach them about themselves in order to reach their full potential in his kingdom. But how can they do that, see and learn all that he wants to teach them, if they go back to their own world now? They can't. Going back would mean safety, for the moment, true, but it would also mean losing the one opportunity they will ever have for advancing to the greater glory and service for King Aslan. That moment in Beaver's hut is a much more crucial moment than perhaps many watching the film realize. For if the children turn back now, all is lost, not only for them but for all of Narnia. Yet King Aslan does not force them to continue; rather, one of the children takes matters into his own hands, seeking to find glory on his own as ruler over his overbearing brother, and sets out to find the queen to obtain the throne she has promised him.

Such temptation is not limited only to ordinary children such as Edmund; Jesus also had this same temptation thrown at him by the enemy--only he won out over that temptation:

"Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. 'All this I will give you,' he said, 'if you will bow down and worship me.' Jesus said to him, 'Away from me, Satan! For it is written: "Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only"'"(Matthew 4:8-10).

Jesus had that wider vision that is necessary to win over all that would hinder him from completing the mission and journey which God had sent him upon in this world. Edmund and the others did not--yet. Therefore, to keep them from abandoning their quest and journey, an act of free will that is contrary to Aslan's goal is used by Aslan to further his purpose and to keep the children in Narnia rather than returning to the supposed safety of their own world: Edmund disappears from the Beaver's hut. That seals the matter, for whatever the faults of Edmund, he is their brother and they cannot leave him while they go back to their own world. Their fate is now bound up with his and they must stay in Narnia. Up until that moment, all was settled: They rejected the Beaver's plea to stay in Narnia and fight against the witch, as the prophecy foretold; they would return to England. But now, with Edmund gone, all has changed in an instant. One moment, all had seemed done and settled; the next . . . who knows where all of this would lead? Only Alan knows. As Beaver himself later says, as they watch Edmund enter into the witch's castle, "Only Aslan can help your brother now." So Peter replies, "Then take us to him."

That is now the second instance when what had seemed completed and settled becomes unsettled and open to further adventures. But there is more.

Once in Aslan's camp, the three remaining children request Aslan's help in returning their brother from the clutches of the wicked white witch. Beaver had promised that Aslan could help; they now expected him to make good on that promise. What is Aslan's reply? He does not say that he cannot or will not do it; nor does he say that he will. He simply says, "This may be harder than you think."

Aslan is aware of the legal and other requirements to free Edmund. The children are aware of none of these things. To them, the matter of freeing their brother is now settled: Aslan will take care of it. In this, they see correctly; what they fail to see is the terrible price Aslan will have to pay to accomplish this. Aslan knows this full well and drops his head slightly--not a show of unwillingness but of awful awareness. He knows what the children do not know, that the matter is settled and done in principle only; there is still a very great challenge lying before them all, Aslan in particular. It is not yet over and done.

This truth is borne out by what happens next. Two of the white witch's wolves seek to attack and kill the girls while they are separated from the others in the camp, but Susan blows her horn, calling for help, to which Peter and Aslan respond and which ends in the death of one wolf and the escape of the other. But Aslan had let him escape on purpose, for, as he told his servants, "Follow him. He will lead you to Edmund." They do follow the wolf, find and free Edmund, and the next morning Peter exits his tent and sees Edmund standing on a hillside with Aslan. The girls also arise to meet another day and also see their brother returned to them. At last, all has been taken care of: Their brother has been returned to them and now they can go back home--at least that is Peter's thought at the breakfast table. But Lucy and Edmund both object. As Lucy puts it, "They need us; all four of us."

They do indeed. It is not all done. Aslan has yet more for them to do in Narnia and, in fact, Edmund is not as free as they suppose. He may have been freed from the witch's camp by force, but she still has a legal right to him and claim on him because of the way the laws of Narnia are written. Force is not the ultimate determiner of what occurs, except, as in Edmund's rescue, temporarily.

"From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and men of violence take it by force" (Mt. 11:12 RSV).

The White Witch is both a hypocrite and one who chooses how much of the truth she will believe and accept. For she herself seeks by force to overthrow Aslan's reign in Narnia, yet when Aslan uses force to free Edmund, she lodges a complaint against him, saying, correctly, that the laws of Narnia forbid such means to accomplish its ends. Those same laws say that she has a rightful claim on any traitor and his blood and therefore if Aslan claims to be the rightful ruler of Narnia, he must abide by those laws. If he does not, all of Narnia will perish by fire and water. As she so defiantly puts it, "You dare not refuse me!"

This is true--as far as it goes. Aslan, being bound by his good and true character and nature, does not dare to contradict that character by disobeying the laws on which Narnia is built. To do so would indeed destroy Narnia. Aslan seems caught in a dilemma from which there is no way out. To keep Edmund would spare his life but destroy Narnia and discredit Aslan himself for flaunting the rightful laws of Narnia. But if he binds himself to keep those laws, Edmund will lose his life. The situation seems hopeless. Why, then, does Aslan tell the witch to speak with him alone, in his tent? What can he possibly say or do to make her change her mind and release her hold on the boy, Edmund?

The two repair to Aslan's tent while all the others wait anxiously outside--Edmund most of all. His life hangs in the balance of what is going on in secret behind the walls of Aslan's tent. Then the tent flap opens and the queen emerges. As she walks past him, she stares at Edmund but says not a word to him, but mounts back in her chariot. Edmund and the whole crowd turn anxiously to look at Aslan as he also emerges. He too is silent for a moment, also staring intently at Edmund. In that stare, I see the Lord Jesus looking at me. He knows that I really am a traitor to him and his cause, that it is because of my sin that he was crucified, and when I see Aslan look that long stare at Edmund/me . . . I realize that Jesus' sacrifice for me on the cross was no reaction to a situation that had sprung itself by surprise on Jesus. He has known from all eternity that he would give his life for mine on the cross; he knows all things, including the darkest depths of my heart. In that one, long stare, all eternity somehow manages to make itself known in that instant. I am known to the depths of my heart, and to the depths of God's heart, his love willing to give fully of himself to pay for that darkness. All of that occurs in that one, brief moment in the film: the stare of Aslan upon Edmund.

Edmund looks back in agonizing fear at Aslan, the questioning in his heart evident in the fear on his face. Is he going to die at the queen's hands after all? After a moment of silence, Aslan announces to Edmund and the crowd that the witch has renounced her claim on the son of Adam's blood, and they all erupt in cheers and shouts of gladness and joy. It really is done this time; Aslan has found a way to satisfy her rightful claim for Edmund's blood.

But in the midst of all the joy and happy shouting and commotion, Lucy looks at Aslan and her smiling face turns to a frown of puzzlement. Aslan is hanging his head down, clearly disturbed in heart about something. Why is he not delirious with joy as all in the crowd are? Obviously, something more took place in that meeting in the tent between good and evil, something that no one else is aware of. But what that something is, is not clear to Lucy. She only knows that something dreadfully serious has taken place.

Aslan then turns to go back into the tent, and as he does his gaze sweeps past Lucy and he recognizes her, and his face, for a fleeting moment, opens up in a sign of recognition that one person is aware of the momentous nature of the moment--and then the solemn look returns to Aslan's face and he continues his slow walk back to his tent. Lucy likewise returns to her brothers and sisters and the jubilation of the crowd, once more smiling. After all, she does not know or understand what it is that so weighs on Aslan; perhaps she will think on that later. For now, she should enjoy having her brother back in the family. Everything has been taken care of; all is back to normal, as it should be.

But, of course, it is not all taken care of. Aslan has only given his word on something to the witch. As she turned to leave the camp, she shouted back to him, "How do I know that your promise will be kept?" Aslan's reply? A mighty roar. She was questioning his integrity and honesty. But Aslan himself had no such doubts about that. He would be true to his word. He would sooner die than break his word to anyone, including the witch.

Later that night, Lucy and Susan follow Aslan on his way to make good his word to the witch. They do not yet know what that word is, but learn later just how awful and costly it is, as they see the witch have Aslan tied up and then mock him at his foolishness for thinking that by giving his own life in the traitor's stead he would thus save Edmund's life. The girls hear her say this and at last understand the tremendous sacrifice that Aslan is about to make as they watch hidden in the bushes. Edmund may have been returned, but it was not yet over.

Aslan makes good on his word to take the place of Edmund on the sacrifice at the Stone Table--and the witch makes good on her word to take life there, only it is Aslan's life, not Edmund's. But, of course, this is what she wanted all along anyway. Edmund is small fry; Aslan is the ruler of Narnia. She is delighted to make the exchange. And so the dagger falls and Aslan dies, much to the shock and sorrow of the girls watching from the edge of the ceremony.

"Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs" Mt. 27:55).

Thus Scripture describes another sacrifice, the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus. How fitting that the Narnia film depicts two other young women, Susan and Lucy, walking part way with Aslan through the night to care for his need of human companionship in the hour of his greatest need.

So Aslan has given his life for Edmund's. as he had promised the witch. Is it now over? No, for Susan knows that back at Aslan's camp Peter and the others are preparing for battle. They must be told of Aslan's death. The battle will not be stopped simply because Aslan has died. That is not enough for the witch. She also wants to take his place as ruler of Narnia and knows that the Narnians will not willingly allow this. So the battle must still go on. No, it is not over yet.

What the witch does not know is that it is not over yet as far as Aslan is concerned, either. For as an earthquake cracks the Stone Table and Susan and Lucy turn around to see what this means, there Aslan appears before them, alive and as good as new. They shout for joy and run to him and hug him. Aslan then gives a brief explanation about why his death was not the end, because beneath the surface laws of Narnia, called the Deep Magic, there is a deeper magic yet that decrees that when a willing victim is sacrificed in place of a traitor, even death itself will be turned backwards.

What a dramatic portrayal of the way it is with the laws of heaven and our God. For God has given us the law by which we are to live our lives. But beneath the surface list of do's and don'ts and right and wrong lies the spirit of the law, which is love.

"But now, by dying to what once bound us, we have been released from the law so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit, and not in the old way of the written code" (Rom. 7:6).

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death" (Rom. 8:1,2).

"In order that the righteous requirements of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the sinful nature but according to the Spirit" (Rom. 8:4).

The witch understood only the surface nature of the law, a law that granted her certain rights, even if the exercise of those rights brought pain and suffering to the citizens of Narnia. That is part of the nature of free will. What she did not understand was the deeper nature of the law, the nature of love that formed it and thus granted the free will that she so tragically misused for her own purposes and the suffering of Narnians. Yet, no matter how determinedly she clung to these rights of the law, in the end she wound up losing all rights, even the right to life, for in the battle with Peter both of them hear Aslan's mighty roar back to life from death. The witch can say only one word, and that word exactly expresses the sad, meager understanding of life and goodness and love that she has, for that one word is, "Impossible!"

But after seeing Aslan roar mightily from atop that rock outcropping cause her to abandon her cause? Not at all; in fact, she takes up her battle with Peter all the more passionately, knowing that it is now or never, that her time is short.

"Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you! He is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short" (Rev. 12:12).

Nevertheless, fury alone is not enough to win the battle over that which is all-powerful. Aslan pounces on the witch just in time to save Peter and dispenses with the witch, then turns to Peter and says, "It is finished." Finally! Finally, after all the many false assumptions that it is all taken care of, there is the word of Aslan himself that it is really finished. What relief! What comfort! Susan and Lucy descend from the rock perch to join Peter and rejoice that at last the victory has been won and all is at rest and finished.

But wait. Something is not right. Susan voices the disquieting thought: "Where's Edmund?" They all turn and rush to find Edmund and get there just in time to protect him from the white witch's aide, who is bent on finishing off Edmund, who was fearfully wounded by the witch's magic spear. As he lies there, vulnerable to the aide's raised axe, Susan shoots an arrow and stops the assault on Edmund just in time, saving his life. But he is terribly wounded and Lucy quickly takes out her gift of healing juice and administers it to her brother, thus saving his life. So it is that both sisters save their brother's life.

"And God did extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that handkerchiefs or aprons were carried away from his body to the sick, and diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them" (Acts 19:11,12).

Even though Aslan had pronounced that it was finished, Edmund still almost died. It was finished, as far as the battle was concerned, for the witch was dead. But still the battle raged on until the rest were also taken care of. And along the way, others still died or risked dying, because, for them, at least, it was not yet quite over.

"When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne; they cried out with a loud voice, 'O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before thou wilt judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell upon the earth?' Then they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brethren should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been" (Rev. 6:9-11).

Many are the children of God who have died for him through the ages, while we who are alive today and read this have yet to experience the end of all things for us. For one, the end has come; for the other, the end is yet to be. Not until we too join our Lord in heaven and there receive our crowns can we say finally that it is done. Yet even that is not necessarily the end, for we are told that all the saints will return with Jesus as he comes to this world again to assume his rule and that we shall rule with him. So it is that even after the coronation ceremony at Cair Paravel it is not completely over for the Pevensie children. For years later, after they have grown, they chase a white stag and are suddenly returned to this world. God has yet more for them to do. It is not finished yet.

What are we to say to all this, then? I, for one, am very grateful for this Narnia film that helps portray so many important truths about life with God. Whatever its human defects, there still remain those many portions of this film that speak deeply to the deep truths of Scripture and our walk with God. Each time I watch this film, the Holy Spirit speaks to my heart and spirit and strengthens me in my faith and walk with the One who put on this earth all who participated in the creation of this film, and I thank him for that. I also look forward to that final day when I also leave this world for another and I hear my Father say to me, "It is finished."

"His master said to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master'" (Mt. 25:21).