Narnia Lectures

Narnia Talk #6 | The Magician’s Nephew

by Ben Zornes · May 3, 2023

Lion of Sorrows

Introduction

This chronicle is the Genesis of the Narniad, while The Last Battle is its eschaton. Whereas Tolkien fleshed out the culture, language, and history of his myth, Lewis was happy for his world building to be a bit more slapdash. But The Magician’s Nephew enriches the history of the world of Narnia.

We learn how the Lion created the world by singing it into being. The White Witch’s origins are explained. We’re given the reason why a son of Adam & daughter of Eve are the royal line. And Lucy’s pertinent question about why there’s a lamppost in the middle of a wood is finally answered.

Summary of the Plot

But first, a recap. These events took place when Professor Kirk (of LWW) is a boy. His mother is dying, his father is off in India, he lives with his crazy Uncle Andrew & Aunt Letty. He meets the neighbor girl, Polly, and they accidentally discover Uncle Andrew’s lab. He tricks Polly into using a magic ring that sends her out of our world, and then blackmails Digory into going to fetch her. This brings the two kids to the “Wood Between the Worlds”, and they, being good kids, decide the right thing to do is explore a bit.

This is how they come to the dead world of Charn. Through Digory’s foolishness, they awaken the wicked Queen Jadis from her enchanted sleep. The children accidentally bring her back into our world. She begins to wreak havoc, while Uncle Andrew simps for her. The two children use their rings to take Jadis back. But they accidentally bring Uncle Andrew, a Cabby driver and his horse along too. They end up in an “empty world”. To the children, Cabby, and horse’s delight, a low song begins, and suddenly the world begins to be made. Jadis and Uncle Andrew miserably bicker about trying to get out of this world. Soon, the Lion appears. Clearly he’s the one singing everything into being.

Jadis runs off after failing to kill Aslan. Digory plucks up the courage to ask the Lion if there’s any fruit in this young world which might heal his mother. Instead, Aslan rebukes him for his folly in awakening Jadis and bringing this evil into the world. Aslan sends the boy to pluck an apple from a sacred garden, then return to plant it in Narnia, protecting them from Jadis’ evil for many long years. Digory & Polly (and Fledge, the Cabby’s horse…now a Pegasus) go on their mission. They find with horror that Jadis has eaten from the forbidden tree, and Digory barely escapes the temptation to join her.

Upon their return to Aslan, Aslan gifts Digory an apple from the freshly planted Tree of Protection. Upon returning to England, Digory gives his mother the gifted apple, and she is healed. Those apple seeds are planted, and many years later Digory used that tree to make a wardrobe.

Mother Eros

The Narnia stories nicely map onto the seven heavens of ancient cosmology. Even if it wasn’t as deliberate as some assert (like Michael Ward’s Planet Narnia), Lewis clearly employed the imagery of that cosmology. That being the case, the Inklings, as Lewis’ group of friends called themselves, must have asked at some point, “So, Jack, how’re you going to employ the imagery associated with Venus in a children’s novel?” A fair question.

Lewis pulls this off in a few ways. The “Wood-between-the-Worlds”, with the verticality of trees and the circularity of the pools gives tasteful Venusian imagery. But we also have a series of “couples”: Digory & Polly, George the Cabby & his wife Helen, Uncle Andrew (with his deformed erotic desire) & Jadis, Digory’s mother & father (reunited at the end of the story), and all the animal pairs. The Edenic sort of imagery is abundant, tasteful, and poignant. In other words, it is Venus veiled.

The Deplorable Word & the First Joke

Lewis teaches a lesson in the power of words in two episodes. We learn that Jadis sought out a sort of “gnostic” hidden knowledge, and thus discovered and used The Deplorable Word to destroy all of Charn. Meanwhile, the Jackdaw made (or rather became the first joke) through his poor linguistic timing. Aslan exhorts the talking beasts to give way to the laughter, saying: “Laugh and fear not, creatures. Now that you are no longer dumb and witless, you need not always be grave. For jokes as well as justice come in with speech.”

Words can destroy or words can build up. The Word made the world. The Word got the last laugh. Biblical justice is not humorless justice. Our salvation, in one sense, is a joke: “Satan thought he killed God.” Insert belly laugh here.

Disordered Desires

Uncle Andrew serves as a warning to us of the miserable condition that can result from disordered desires. He initially desires power (magic used to force others to do your will). When Jadis comes along, his lusts come to the forefront. As he sees the fertility of young Narnia, his greed & avarice bubble to the surface. He is a truly carnal man.

The arc of this character eventually shows that because his desires are entirely misdirected he ends up disheveled. He becomes more beastly than the talking beasts. They understand him, but he’s refused to hear them. He’s an utterly broken man. His desires were not the problem, but the direction of them were. He could have been a fatherly figure for Digory, and a true brother for his sisters. He could have been adventurous and taken the risk himself, instead of sending a little girl to do his dirty work (as Digory scolds him for doing). He could have been humble and learned from the Lion, and thus brought blessing back to Narnia, instead, the rest of his life he was a burden on the charity of his family.

This is a great picture of how the fall has wrecked mankind. We desired to be as God, and instead became like beasts.

Lying to Ourselves

Digory receives chastisement for his folly in the enchanted hall of Charn. He pretended to be far more under the spell than he really was. His curiosity got the best of him, and instead of repenting, he tried to pass it off on some vague magic.

The lesson he learned was to take responsibility. This was the lesson of Adam in Eden. He blamed his wife instead of taking responsibility. He put someone else’s neck in the noose, instead of laying his own life down.

He Hath Borne Our Sorrows

This tale gives us a peek into the sorrow which Lewis carried throughout his life, due to his mother’s early death. Digory is as close as we get to Lewis putting himself into the story.

In perhaps the most touching scene, I think, in all Narnia, we find that the Lion is true compassion. To put it in Biblical terms: He is a Lion of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.

DIGORY kept his mouth very tight shut. He had been growing more and more uncomfortable. He hoped that, whatever happened, he wouldn’t blub or do anything ridiculous.

“Son of Adam,” said Aslan. “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth?”

“Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory. “You see, the Queen ran away and —”

“I asked, are you ready?” said the Lion.

“Yes,” said Digory. He had had for a second some wild idea of saying “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help my Mother,” but he realised in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with. But when he had said “Yes,” he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

“But please, please — won’t you — can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.

“My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another. But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia. The Witch whom you have brought into this world will come back to Narnia again. But it need not be yet. It is my wish to plant in Narnia a tree that she will not dare to approach, and that tree will protect Narnia from her for many years. So this land shall have a long, bright morning before any clouds come over the sun. You must get me the seed from which that tree is to grow.”

“Yes, sir,” said Digory. He didn’t know how it was to be done but he felt quite sure now that he would be able to do it. The Lion drew a deep breath, stooped its head even lower and gave him a Lion’s kiss. And at once Digory felt that new strength and courage had gone into him.

There are deep layers of deep theology here. The problem of evil is raised. Then answered by the Pauline refutation of that objection: “He made Him who knew no sin, to be sin for us, that we might be the righteousness of God in Him.” “Where does suffering come from?” is to ask the wrong question. “Why does God allow suffering?” is also to start at the wrong end.

The lesson here is that God ordained our suffering, and then Himself bore it all, took the worst of it, swallowed the poisoned cup that was ours to drink. And then, He holds out to us the promise of new life. The dark chapters are not only penned by His sovereign hand. He wrote Himself into the darkest and worst part of the story. Christ suffered in our stead. This is the answer to silence & satisfy all our questions.

Conclusion

This story slays a wicked giant. Darwinism’s view of the world is utterly charmless. It leaves us fruitless. It leaves us miserable in our disordered desires. Jack slays this giant by revealing that in looking back at the creation of the world, we can look forward to the resurrection of this world. Our tears will be wiped away, our suffering will give way to sweet fellowship. The world wasn’t made via mechanistic forces, but by music.

The intimacy of Venus is a pale shadow of the bright glory which we shall enjoy in the warm presence of God our Father has begotten us, Mother Kirk has given birth to us. Christ is the head of the church, we are His body. As Lewis makes plain in his book Four Loves, all earthly loves point us to God’s love. His love is fruitful & life-giving: “In God there is no hunger that needs to be filled, only plenteousness that desires to give.”

Narnia Talk #5 | The Horse & His Boy

by Ben Zornes · Mar 27, 2023

Joy Comes in the Morning

Introduction

The fifth Chronicle begins neither in England, nor in Narnia. Chronicles 1-4 & 6 all begin in England. This one begins in a foreign land (Calormene) in the Narnia world. And The Last Battle begins in Narnia. This is also the only one where there is no “travel” between our world and Narnia.

Which is strange considering this is a story marked by many partings & reunions. It follows the adventures of Shasta, a boy who has been raised by a cruel fisherman. Without love, without wealth, without imagination. But one day a wealthy nobleman needs to spend the night in the fisherman’s home. Shasta learns he is to be sold to the nobleman as a slave, and that he wasn’t really the fisherman’s son. Before he flees, the nobleman’s horse (Bree) speaks to him and informs him that he is a Narnian horse, and longs to return to his homeland. Shasta and the horse concoct a plan to escape together. They succeed in their escape.

But eventually they meet a similarly fleeing princess (tarkina) and her talking horse (Aravis & Whin). They join forces, but are separated in the capital city, where Shasta meets the Narnian cohort (Susan & Edmund, and their attendants). But he also meets a boy who is his spitting image, but is Prince Corin of Archenland.

Once Shasta and his separated companions are reunited, it is revealed that Aravis has learned that Rabadash, prince of Calormene is concocting a plan to kidnap Susan, force her to be his wife, and conquer Archenland and Narnia for his father. Thus, they rush through desert and mountain to reach King Lune of Archenland in time to warn him. Along the way Shasta is once more separated, and is sent alone to find King Lune & warn him of the coming danger. By good fortune, he finds the King in time, warns him, but is once more separated. He wanders, accidentally into Narnia, and again, by a guiding hand (er…paw), is able to warn the Narnian’s of their ally’s danger.

They return to King Lune’s aid just in time. There it is revealed that Shasta is, in fact, King Lune’s son, who’d been kidnapped in infancy. Through this whole saga, operating as it were in the shadows, the Lion has been guiding the whole story, even the darkest chapters, to a bright deliverance.

A Brief Observation

This is, by my reckoning, the first introduction of any sort of organized religion in the Narnian books; and this religion is, of course, a false one. Grave, mysterious, bloody, and ruled over by the demon-god Tash (who reappears in The Last Battle). These last three chronicles are much more “theological” in their themes and plots. This book sets up the antipathy that existed between two religious systems, which The Last Battle will explore further.

The Proud Brought Low, The Low Raised Up

I think it could easily be shown that this chronicle is a parable of “A man’s pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit (Pro 29:23).” When you start looking for this, you see it all over the story.

Shasta the lowly orphan raised to become heir of Archenland’s throne. Rabadash the impetuous, haughty prince of Calormen is turned into an ass (because he totally is an ass). Bree the great war-horse is confronted with the realization that when he gets to Narnia he will be just an average-joe Narnian horse (“as long as you know you’re nobody special, you’ll be a very decent sort of Horse”).

Aravis the Tarkina becomes a fugitive, but is raised up to become queen, but only after her vanity is humbled, her haughty pride of place is chastised by the Lion’s claws. The Tisroc is revered as god-like authority, but everyone knows he will still die. Or as Bree shrewdly observed, “I don’t want him to live forever, and I know that he’s not going to live forever whether I want him to or not.”

Live Like Kings & Free-men

One of the most easily applicable lessons to be gleaned from this tale is how to live nobly. There are two descriptions we’re given on this front, which we would do well to take to heart. The first can be found in King Lune of Archeland’s admonishment to his son, “For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there’s hunger in the land (as must be now and then in bad years) to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”

The lesson here is that there will be engagement with enemies. This is a non-negotiable. Thus, a true Narnian spirit is one that leads with courage and sacrifice. In the face of a fight, the instinct is to run to battle and not away. Even in the hardest of circumstance, a Narnian does all this jovially and sets the example of resisting moroseness and despair. Enduring sorrow & suffering is arguably the theme of this book; and King Lune’s admonition here is that lesson stated explicitly. More on that in a second.

The second description which provides a helpful template for how freemen should live and behave is found when Shasta first meets the Narnians during their envoy to Tashban:

“Shasta had never seen anyone like them before. For one thing, they were all as fair-skinned as himself, and most of them had fair hair. And they were not dressed like men of Calormen. Most of them had legs bare to the knee. Their tunics were of fine, bright, hardy colours – woodland green, or gay yellow, or fresh blue. Instead of turbans they wore steel or silver caps, some of them set with jewels, and one with little wings on each side of it. A few were bare-headed. The swords at their sides were long and straight, not curved like Calormene scimitars. And instead of being grave and mysterious like most Calormenes, they walked with a swing and let their arms and shoulders go free, and chatted and laughed. One was whistling. You could see that they were ready to be friends with anyone who was friendly, and didn’t give a fig for anyone who wasn’t. Shasta thought he had never seen anything so lovely in his life.”

If we, as a community of believers, labored to imitate that wonderful description in how we behave ourselves, it will be like the wafting scent of some delicious bakery to this starving world. Be ready to be friends with everyone, and don’t give a rip for what the world thinks about you.

Obedience in the Dark

As I alluded to a moment ago, the theme of this book is learning that the lion’s claws sometimes cut us deeply, sometimes his roar startle us. But this suffering should not be seen as pointless. This tale instructs us that suffering should lead us to obey the Lord in faith.

As the narrator reminds us, “If you do one good deed your reward usually is to be set to do another and harder and better one.” We think that if we do some good deed, kick some wicked habit, or overcome some temptation that we can settle in someplace cozy. But sorrow and suffering are given to us as thorns to spur us onward in our pursuit of holiness.

Obedience in the sunshine is quite easy. Obedience in the shadows is not. When all around my soul gives way…what then? Well, that is precisely where faith is shown to be genuine or fraudulent.

Conclusion

Though you walk through death’s valley, the Lion is there before you, behind you, above you, beside you, and underneath you. But His presence is only found by the humble. It is the meek who will inherit the earth. The haughty will be turned into a laughingstock. The Psalmist teaches us this same lesson: “The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry. The face of the LORD is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth (Psa 34:15-16).”

Grace is only for the humble. While God’s fierce immovability is for the proud. Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face. All of your hardships were picked out by the kind providence of God. He aims to humble you, so that He might raise you up. The cross is followed by the crown. Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.

Narnia Talk #4: The Silver Chair

by Ben Zornes · Feb 27, 2023

Our Enchanted World

Introduction

The fourth installment of Narnia is the first one without a Pevensie. Eustace, the Pevensie’s cousin from Voyage, takes their mantle. But he is not the main character; rather it is Jill Pole who takes center stage.

Let me quickly trace the narrative, which forms a wonderful chiasm. From England, to Aslan’s Mountain, down into Narnia (and the north), further down to Underland, back up to Narnia, up to Aslan’s Mountain, and then a return to England. Now, for a bit more detail. Jill and Eustace attend a school for bureaucratic bullies, run by bureaucratic bullies. Eustace had told Jill about his previous Narnian adventure, and then they pleaded for Aslan to let them go to Narnia. As soon as they make this “petition” some bullies begin chasing them, and as they’re fleeing they go through a gate and find themselves in Aslan’s country. Aslan has heard their pleas.

Aslan gives Jill an errand. And, due to her folly in knocking Eustace off a cliff when they first arrive, she has a greater duty. She is to remember 4 signs which will lead them to the lost Prince Rilian (Caspian’s son). Once Aslan sends her down into Narnia (by his breath), she’s reunited with Eustace and they set out on their assignment. A gloomy marshwiggle, Puggleglum, agrees to guide them to the north and assist them as he’s able. But due to various follies they miss the first three signs. However, in the end, they obey Aslan’s last sign, despite it seeming like madness to obey the sign. They free the lost prince from his enchantment in the silver chair, and then overthrow the enchantress, and make their way back to Narnia.

They arrive in time to reunite Rilian with his father Caspian, before he dies of old age. Aslan brings Jill & Eustace back to his mountain, Caspian is resurrected by Aslan’s blood, and then he allows Caspian to enjoy his greatest wish…to spend a few moments in our world. He and the two children go and frighten off the bullies. In other words, this is the clearest example in “The Chronicles of Narnia” of the role of fairy stories. They equip us not to escape our troubles, but to face them with renewed courage which we receive from the fairy story.

Follow the Signs

The backbone of this story is Jill’s task to follow the signs which Aslan gave. But the first sign is missed because Jill begins bickering with Eustace and should have explained to him the assignment Aslan gave her.

As they endeavor to follow the second sign, which was to find the city of the ancient giants, they’re met by a Green Lady (on a white horse), and an armored knight (on a black horse); the Green Lady’s promise of warmth and reprieve in the home of the “Gentle” Giants leads the children in particular to neglect looking for the second sign, and they bungle right past the city they were tasked with looking for. The narrator tells us that Jill had given up repeating the signs to herself. She had, we might say, failed to hide these signs in her heart. And so, she was led astray.

Once they are welcomed as guests for the Autumn Feast at Harfang, the Gentle Giants’ home, they eventually come to realize they are on the menu. Aslan appears to Jill in a vision, and while looking out of the window, they see the broken lettering of some ancient memorial of the giant city they were supposed to search. It read: “Under Me.” They escape, barely, and find themselves in underworld.

Having badly obeyed the first three signs, they are brought to the Queen of Underworld’s castle. There they meet a psycho prince, who is entirely enamored with the Queen. He tells them he is under an enchantment that causes him to go mad one hour every day, and he must be bound to a silver chair. They linger to watch him during his manic episode, and are shocked to find that he is more sane during his supposed madness. He pleads with them, in the name of Aslan, to set him free. This was the fourth sign. They are shocked, and fearful to obey what is clearly the sign. But Puddleglum wisely reminds them that Aslan never told them what would happen if they obeyed the signs, he only told them to obey the signs.

Here then is a vital lesson for Christian adventurers. Always follow the signs. We do not obey because it is easy or convenient, or so we might gain the esteem of those around us. Obeying the signs might seem like going on a fool’s errand to most, but that doesn’t let you off from obeying the clear commands of God’s Word. It might also be observed that even though they apparently bungled them, providence was actually at work despite them, not because of them. Aslan’s instructions always work, no exceptions.

Two Ladies

Another important lesson in this story is a very Solomonic one. The enchantress is also a seductress. She captivates Rilian by appearing in the form of a beautiful lady. Instead of avenging his mother’s death, he is led into the darkness of the strange woman’s pit, the very woman who (in serpentine form) slayed his mother.

Rilian set out with vigor to slay the serpent, but when he beheld the enchantress, his vigor cooled. Lust will unman you. It will hollow you of virtue. Chop off the head of lust before it grasps you in its coils. But it is never too late. Once he is delivered, he slays the enchantress, thus avenging his mother. A good word is here to young men in particular, your mama wants you to kill any desire for the seductress.

The Real World

Lewis brings in some of the finest apologetics in any of his writings in the exchange between the children, Puddleglum, and Rilian with the Enchantress. She tries to persuade them that they are just making up Narnia (Overworld). Her world is all there is, she croons to them. She coaxes them with her song and her incense to believe that her world is the real world. How she describes the world is how it really is.

She almost has them under her spell, when good ol’ Puddleglum rouses himself in a fine act of defiant courage. He burns his foot putting out her fire, thus replacing the odor of enchantment with the less than enchanting smell of burnt marshwiggle. He argues that even if they were making up the glories of Overworld, that their imaginary world was superior to her alleged “real world”. He insisted that far better to follow Aslan, even if there really was no Aslan, than to dwell in her dull, cold world. There is a time for logical argumentation, but the martyr’s blood often proves far more persuasive. Self-sacrifice is how we overthrow the follies which surround us.

In the modern haze in which we live, it is this sort of clear thinking that will free enchanted souls. You think boys can become girls? That thinking renders boy-ness & girl-ness meaningless, what even is the point. We shall live as male & female regardless of your myriad gender identities.

You think the world is the result of a Big Bang & time and chance? What a colorless view of the world & cosmos. We shall live as if God made the heavens & earth in six days, no matter how loudly we are scoffed. For that is a far more beautiful myth, and it happens to be the true myth. The tyrants might call us crazy kooks, but we don’t pay them any heed. For we the smell of reality is on our side.

We live in a digital age of screens. Our peers around us are dulled through endless entertainment, porn, meta-verse madness, weed, psychotropic drugs, mindless social media scrolling, transhumanist pipe-dreams, and uncovenanted hook-ups. Living in Christian community, marked by self-control, abstaining from fleshly lusts, and celebrating the Incarnation & Bodily Resurrection of the Lord Jesus each Lord’s Day is the way forward.

Conclusion

Hold fast to the signs. Turn them over and over. When you rise and when you lie down, when you go out and come in. Do not let the thick air of even the strongest potion cloud your mind. Be sober, be vigilant. And so be used of the Lord to deliver the captives, overthrow serpents, and guard your beloved land from wickedness. And never forget that sometimes the best way to flee temptation is to get a whiff of burnt marshwiggle foot.

Narnia Talk #3: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

by Ben Zornes · Jan 30, 2023

Introduction

To briefly summarize the plot of Dawn Treader, you should think of it in terms of a swashbuckling, episodic quest. Edmund and Lucy are staying with their annoying cousin Eustace. A painting of a lovely ship “comes to life” and the sea sweeps them into the painting, and they come to find that the ship is none other than King Caspian’s, and he is on a quest to find the fates of seven Lord’s who his uncle had essentially exiled for being loyal to Caspian’s father.

The Dawn Treader sails from island to island until all the lost Lord’s are discovered. But along the way the hero’s are beset by various enemies both external & internal. There’s no one villain, but there are various vice’s which must be overcome. This is the most introspective chronicle.

But there is a helpful lesson to be learned by the introspection displayed in this story. The hearts of the heroes are searched by making the sun get brighter and brighter, not by sinking deeper and deeper into their inner depths.

Child-like Sight

This story completes what I think should be called the “Lucy Trilogy”. So, I want to take a closer look at the character of Lucy over these first three books of Narnia. In LWW she is the first to arrive in Narnia and refuses to capitulate when others questioned the truth of her tale. When she first hears Aslan’s name we are told, “Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.” In PC, it’s Lucy who’s told by Aslan that she should have followed him even if no one else did. She also observes that Aslan has grown, and we are given an important example of maturing faith:

“Aslan” said Lucy “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

Here, in Dawn Treader, she again spots Aslan first when he appears to them during their dispute on Goldwater/Deathwater Island. Aslan again comes to her in the Magician’s library, and rebukes her for her eavesdropping on her friends, for envying Susan’s beauty, and then promises to comfort her with an eternal story of joy (of a cup, sword, green hill, and a tree). He comes (as an albatross, which at first appears to be a white cross) to their aid when the nightmares of Dark Island are creeping nearer and their escape seems impossible, and whispers to Lucy “Courage dear heart.”

At the end, when they’ve reached the world’s end, Aslan meets them (as a lamb nonetheless) and when he tells Lucy she and Edmund are not to return to Narnia her response is not to grieve never seeing Narnia again, but in her lovely words:

“It isn’t Narnia, you know,” sobbed Lucy. “It’s you. We shan’t meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?”

In Lucy, we see the life of true, child-like faith. It is beset by trial, by doubts, by sin. But it holds steadfast. Not to the benefits which Aslan brings, but to Aslan Himself. She rests between the Lion’s paws. She is ever on the lookout for the Lion, and her eyes, though she is the youngest, spot him first, more often than not.

Undragoning

The most poignant episode, and one which proves that Lewis was a closet Calvinist, is the undragoning of Eustace. He sleeps on a dragons horde, while cherishing dragonish thoughts (an apt description for total depravity if ever there were one). He becomes externally what he’s been inwardly, a child of the dragon.

But this revelation of his dragon soul brings great sorrow to Eustace, but no matter how many good deeds he does in order to reform himself, he remains a dragon. Disney, unsurprisingly, gets the heart of the story upside down, and in that retelling, Dragon Eustace is given a task in order to redeem/undragon himself. Lewis, by contrast, has the Lion undragon Eustace. This is the only way to redemption. The Lion must tear off your dragon skin, and then cloth you with new garments of his own making. Not of works, but by grace.

Fat Thor vs. King Caspian

Towards the end, Caspian begins to mope that he isn’t permitted to continue the journey to the very edge of the world. He is on the edge of abdicating in order to pursue the thrill of adventures new and glorious. But Reepicheep, as a true friend rebukes him:

“If it please your Majesty, we mean shall not,” said Reepicheep with a very low bow. “You are the King of Narnia. You break faith with all your subjects, and especially with Trumpkin, if you do not return. You shall not please yourself with adventures as if you were a private person. And if your Majesty will not hear reason it will be the truest loyalty of every man on board to follow me in disarming and binding you till you come to your senses.”

Contrast this with the “Fat Thor” of Avengers: Endgame. His grief over his losses and his depression from failure has led him to a dissolute life of sloth. When his mother meets him she coddles him with a “be true to yourself” mantra, and in the end, Fat Thor abdicates his throne, abandons his people, and joins the circus (which in this case is the goofballs of the Guardians of the Galaxy). Instead of doing his duty, and thus finding meaning, purpose, and glory, he takes the path of miserable irresponsibility.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend, and Reep and the rest of the crew are true friends to King Caspian. They remind him of his duty, and summon him to take up the responsibilities which fall to him and the office he’s been assigned.

Reepicheep the Prophet

With the dauntless Reepicheep we have one of the most exemplary characters in the Narnian catalogue. Amongst many of the other virtuous lessons we can learn from this noble mouse, the one I want to draw our attention to is the contrast between the dream which guides Reepicheep’s quest, and the dreams which terrorize the lost souls on Dark Island.

Reepicheep is guided by the oracle that had spoken prophetic lines over his cradle. He fears no foe, for he trusts that the word which was spoken over him would indeed come to pass. He is never shaken in his resolve that this word must come to pass.

The Dawn Treader comes, in her various adventures, to Dark Island––where dreams, nightmares, come true. While everyone else aboard is gripped with terror, it’s Reepicheep who alone remains unmoved. It’s a striking point to consider.

Most people only know dreams of horror, for their minds have been given over to lust, anxiety, envy, or carnal fears. But the Narnian mouse is one whose mind was stayed upon a good promise. We don’t know how prophetic revelation works in Narnia, but if I may take the liberty, Reepicheep rested in the peace of mind which comes from the Revelation of Aslan’s Word by the mouth of the prophetess.

Until a Perfect Day

In this sea-born adventure, we see a story of sanctification. This is not accomplished by crawling down into the depths of ourselves, but by chasing after the utter east, where the brightness of the sun makes even the salt-water sweet. The central lesson in this story is that as the heroes draw near to the Light of Aslan’s country all the dark corners of their own hearts are exposed, all the night-terrors are chased away, all the sea-serpents defeated by newfound courage, and all the foolish dufflepuds have their folly revealed.

In other words, we have here in story form what Solomon spoke in proverb: “But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day (Pro 4:18 KJV).” As you walk in your own adventure, recognize that sanctification only can take place by drawing closer to the Light of Christ. It is not found by rummaging around in your own heart. Only by walking in the Light, as He is in the Light, is there deliverance from sin, strength for temptation, and hope for the final glory which awaits God’s people.

Narnia Talk 2: Prince Caspian

by Ben Zornes · Jan 2, 2023

Introduction

Note: This talk was given in our living room to our Post-College Singles ministry.

The second installment of the Chronicles of Narnia can be split into three sections. The first part centers on the disorientation the Pevensie children have when they are inexplicably dragged back into Narnia. They wander for awhile trying to figure out where they are, only to piece together the fact that they’d returned to their beloved peninsula castle of Cair Paravel, but which was now an overgrown ruin on an island.

The second section is a flashback (more on this literary tactic later) to how Narnia has fallen into the hands of tyrants and the old Narnia has gone into hiding. This section is narrated by Trumpkin after the children rescue him from being murdered by King Miraz’s soldiers. Trumpkin brings them up to speed, telling them of Caspian the 10th, rightful king of Narnia, who had abdicated from the tyranny of the Telmarines, and joined the true Narnians.

The third section is the meat of the story. The children, along with Trumpkin, endeavor to come to Caspian and the Narnians’ aid, awaken the trees, defeat Miraz, and reform & restore Narnia to her former glory. Aslan eventually appears, and of course, it is his appearing that begins to bring about the restoration of Narnia.

Nostalgia’s Pull

Some have criticized the structure of Prince Caspian. Since so much of it (30%) is Trumpkin narrating Caspian’s upbringing, how he came to love Old Narnia, and his flight from Miraz to seek out the Old Narnians. But Lewis wanted to create this sense of the children being disoriented.

Lewis explained that oftentimes in fairy-tales the story is from the perspective of those doing the summoning, instead of the ones summoned. The Pevensies are perpetually playing catch-up. Trying to make sense of changed geography and architecture. Trying to get to Caspian in time. Trying to figure out why the animals don’t speak, the trees don’t dance, and the Lion has not been seen in centuries. What is to be done when the nation you love has been overgrown and taken over by tyrants?

We live in a time when the world which we grew up in has changed significantly. The pull of nostalgia is a powerful one, and all too often, as people age, they look back on childhood and “the good times” with sentimentality. The driving force becomes trying to get back what has been lost. We see this culturally as “conservatives” want to Make America Great Again, but without first repenting and acknowledging Christ.

But nostalgia is a terrible mortar for building a home with. Scripture often commands us to remember, not for the sake of sentimental memorializing, but to fortify us to be courageous for the battle we face. This is what we see in the Pevensie children’s second adventure. Where they are tempted to think that Narnia is how it used to be, they run into self-inflicted obstacles. When they follow Aslan’s lead, by Lucy’s child-like eyesight, they make their way to a new battle with a new wicked tyrant to overcome.

Remembrance of old battles should en-courage us for today’s battles. Nostalgia is what those who didn’t bleed in the battle give in to when faced with new battles; they pine for the peace which those who fought the old battles won. This is why we should be like Lucy, and bury our face in the Lion’s mane. We must plead for the Lion to grant us courage for the work of renewal that falls to us:

“Lucy buried her head in his mane to hide from his face. But there must have been some magic in his mane. She could feel lion-strength going into her […]
“Now you are a lioness,” said Aslan. “And now all Narnia will be renewed.”

Covenantal Glory

One of the more striking components of this story is the impressive humility which the Pevensie children demonstrate. They are heroes of old, they are Kings & Queens of Narnia. But instead of grasping at their “rights” they put their lives on the line, to advance the glory and rights of another.

As Peter says to Caspian, they didn’t come to take Caspian’s place, but to put him into it. There is covenantal glory here. Your task is not to hold onto your place, but it is to eventually raise up others (whether children or apprentices) to take your throne.

One of the dwarves, Nikabrik, tries to restore the glory through carnal means (resurrecting old follies, old enemies, making evil alliances). The Pevensies come, in the power of Aslan, to restore the glory through humble service, through duty, through discipline, martial order, self-government, and obedience. In regards to obedience, Lewis gives us Trumpkin’s memorable line about giving advice and taking orders.

Christ-honoring self-government leads to godly family government, which raises up a just and righteous national government. If we would see our nation restored, it must come from self-government between the Lion’s paws.

The Spirit Comes

In prepping for this talk, the thought struck me that this is a story of revival. A revival which comes from covenantal succession. The Telmarines have ushered in nine generations of unfaithfulness, and unlawful rule over Narnia. It is now itself in a bit of a constitutional crisis. It has become a country of rivalries, usurpers, scolds, and bullies.

But with the coming of the Pevensies, and of course Aslan, things are about to be put right. They do this by supporting Caspian, not by trying to rival Caspian. Old Narnia dies, Telmarine Dies, and what comes in its place is a resurrection of joy & peace. This explains, in part, why Lewis opted to use so much forest imagery, the old dying to make way for new growth.

This revival is primarily seen as Aslan leads Susan & Lucy throughout the Telmarine cities in Narnia. A teacher, as a pawn of state education, dutifully teaches a dull pseudo-history; but when Aslan roars into town, her sterile classroom is transformed into a living garden. The teacher flees in terror, but her schoolgirls follow in the growing train of Aslan.

In an inverse episode (pg.196), it is the nasty swine of “tyrants in training” who are turned from snotty-nosed, tattle-tell boys into pigs. Their poor teacher, struck to the heart with joy at hearing the songs of Aslan’s followers, is set free to join the congregation.

As the revival continues, we see that hierarchy is no longer allowed to be cruel. The hand of a man beating a small boy is transformed into a wooden branch, and the boy laughs at his deliverance from this cruelty. When revival comes it isn’t the erasure of authority (as we see with High King Peter insisting that it would be improper for Caspian to duel with Miraz, and that it falls to Peter to perform this dangerous duty). Rather, authority is marked by joyful feasting & merry-making. Aslan leads the overthrow of the tyrants by inviting all Narnia (whether “old Narnians” or Talmarines) to a holiday feast.

It’s worth commenting here on the strange appearance of Bacchus, the god of wine. The appearance of Bacchus makes perfect sense if you see this as a Revival story. The Spirit comes and revival ensues. A clever play on words if you ask me. The spirits of wine imbue the followers of Aslan to romp through the land of Narnia and cause the wicked to flee and the righteous to join in the rejoicing of the reformation.

Do Your Duty

When reformation & revival comes, it will not look like the anarchy of overgrown libertarianism, nor the jack-booted authoritarianism of populism. It will be an ordered liberty. We will become a joyfully dutiful people.

Aslan’s instructions to Caspian about the disposition of a good King are helpful to explain what I mean by this marriage of joy & duty:

“Welcome, Prince,’ said Aslan. ‘Do you feel yourself sufficient to take up the Kingship of Narnia?’
I – I don’t think I do, Sir,’ said Caspian. ‘I am only a kid.’
‘Good,’ said Aslan. ‘If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been proof that you were not.”

And then a little later, after recounting how the Telmarines had first come to Narnia (they were pirates from our world who’d stumbled through a chasm between our world and Narnia), Caspian is bummed out about his less than savory ancestry. Aslan rebukes him this way:

“I was wishing that I came of a more honourable lineage.”
“You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve,” said Aslan. “And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor in earth. Be content.”

A second instance of joyful duty is seen in Peter, as he informs Edmund & Lucy that Aslan told him that he and Susan would not be returning to Narnia. Instead of blubbering and complaining, Peter embraces the duty to move into the next stage of his life obedient to the Lion’s wisdom and instruction:

“Oh, Peter,” said Lucy. “What awful bad luck. Can vou bear it?”
“Well, I think I can,” said Peter. “It’s all rather different from what I thought. You’ll understand when it comes to your last time. But quick. Here are our things.”

When they return through the magical door that Aslan made for their trip back to our world, Lewis describes their emotions at the return to the “flatness” of our world wonderfully. Here are some of the closing lines: “the grey, gravelly surface of a platform in a country station, and a seat with luggage round it, where they were all sitting as if they had never moved from it- -a little flat and dreary for a moment after all they had been through, but also, unexpectedly, nice in its own way, what with the familiar railway smell and the English sky and the summer term before them.” Life isn’t always grand adventures; humble dutifulness is its own glory.

Don’t hold onto things past their expiration date. Grow, do your duty at each stage, do it joyfully. Remember the former glories, so that you might be fortified to labor for greater glories. In short, do your duty, and in all you say and do, invite the world to the Lion’s great feast of joy. And so we too might have a revival like Narnia did.

Narnia Talk 1: The Lion, The Witch, & the Wardrobe

by Ben Zornes · Nov 14, 2022

Jack the Giant Slayer

CS Lewis, or Jack as his friends called him, gave the world a great gift in the seven Chronicles of Narnia. My hope in these talks is to show that Lewis is a modern-day “Jack the Giant Slayer”. His insightful story-telling shapes and teaches us how to overcome all variety of dragons, giants, and grumpy cousins named Eustace.

Some Film Critic Nit-Pics

In Disney’s adaptation of LWW, one moment stands out as indicative of how someone can completely miss the central point of the source material. The scene is in the Beaver’s Dam, when Mr. Beaver tells the four children, “Aslan is on the move.” The music swells, the children have looks of wonder, and then Edmund asks with confusion, “Who’s Aslan?” The film makes this a comedic moment. Mr. Beaver laughs at how anyone could not know who Aslan is. But Peter doubles down, and confusedly explains they have no idea who or what Aslan is.

By contrast, in the book, the moment at which Aslan’s name is first spoken is a converting moment for three of the four children, while it is the aroma of death to Edmund. The filmmakers make the mistake of turning the first mention of Aslan’s name from a moment of converting power and wonder to a moment where Mr. Beaver is panned for being so dense and lacking all self-awareness. In Disney’s Narnia, there is no magic in Aslan’s name.

But what else should we expect from the unenchanted modernist/postmodernist world which Hollywood believes we live in? Lewis’ fantasy world is of course intended to help us better see the enchantment of our own world.

Magic & Deeper Magic

Lucy’s entrance into the snowy forest of Lantern Waste brings us into a different world. A world of fauns, talking beasts, nymphs, and a White Witch. A world seemingly unlike our own. And yet, in this Narnian world, we find an out-of-place reference to Christmas: it’s always winter & never Christmas in Narnia. Not only that, but later on, Father Christmas makes an appearance in a world where Christ was not born. This along with the “hodge-podge” of mythical creatures and characters has been often criticized by Lewis’ detractors.

But this is no literary mis-step. There is deeper literary magic at work. Of course, we are at once confronted with Narnia’s “magicality”: a Faun, a Lamppost in the middle of a wood, the Witch giving Edmund enchanted Turkish Delight, and we soon learn that it is her magic which maintains Narnia’s enduring winter.

Her magic is powerful. Her magic turns to stone. Her magic holds Edmund in sway. Her magic prevents Christmas. But though evil ones always try, Christmas cannot be stopped. Just ask Herod or Athaliah. And if Christmas cannot be stopped, neither can Easter.

Lewis brings us into a magical world, where magic is used for cruelty, to snuff out joy, to make the world a colorless white and have all the vibrancy of stone statues. But then the deeper magic turns everything golden as the sunrise, golden as the Lion’s mane.

The Emperor’s deeper magic decreed, before that world began, that a willing substitute for traitors was promised resurrection. Lewis wants his readers to feel & know that the Incarnation & Resurrection are the reason our world is magical. God became a man. The God-man died. But the God-man then killed death and lives forever. The resurrection overthrew the powers and principalities. We now live in a world in which a Man who rose from the dead rules the world for all eternity.

This insight in Narnia should enable us to spot when magic is being misused by tyrants and cruel men. Magic (technology, medicine, etc.) will always be wielded by the wicked as a means to crush joy. We distract ourselves to death with these magical pocket devises. Porn has led to a generation who is increasingly disinterested in the glory & fruitfulness of marital intercourse. Plants and chemicals are used to “balance” the chemicals in our brains, held out by the pharmaceutical companies as the means to restore joy. Instead, users are turned to stone. We call them stoners for a reason. This is a generation lost in an enchantment of make-believe, whether in the form of cosplayers & LARPers, or in the more grievous transgender attempt to going beyond costume and carve the body to suit the imagination.

Lewis offers us a breath of fresh air. The cruel try to wield the magic of our world for their own empire of icicles & stone; all the while they are ignorant of the deeper magic. The Resurrection thwarts the petty magic of the wicked, and summons the Sons of Adam & Daughters of Eve to reign with Christ.

A Royal Calling

It is this “royal calling” which drives the narrative in LWW. Thus, Lewis opted to employ Jovian imagery to reinforce this. As Michael Ward has masterfully pointed out, the seven books of Narnia map onto the seven planets. LWW is presented in prevailingly Jovial terms. Royalty returning. Thrones & Coronation. Prophetic glory. The largess of gift-giving. The dying & rising God.

Notice, that throughout the story the theme is that Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve are royal titles. The Pevensie children are fulfilling an almost “messianic” prophecy. Narnia was never right except when ruled by Adam’s offspring. The Pevensies were not mighty ones in and of themselves. But Aslan made them mighty, and by what we would call Providence, he ensured their ascent from commoners to eternal King’s & Queen’s of Narnia.

This is one of the central lessons of LWW. This first adventure in Narnia is intended, in part, to fortify us to rule in this world as the lawful heirs of this world. The meek shall inherit the earth.

Even for Traitors

Perhaps the clearest lesson, however, is presented in the character arcs of the two younger Pevensies. In Lucy & Edmund we’re confronted with a question: will you believe or will your bitterness lead you to betrayal? Lucy, throughout the books, is an embodiment of child-like faith. She takes Tumnus’ word without any doubt. She is delighted by the simple joys of sardines on toast, and a humble Faun’s cave. Edmund, loaded with cynicism & bitter resentment, caves quickly to the Witch’s enticement.

While it is far preferable to be a “Lucy”, Lewis goes out of his way to make it clear that the restoration of Narnia will be incomplete unless even the worst sinner is redeemed. The Good News is plainly presented to us here. While we all should be a “Lucy”, in reality we’re all Edmunds. We’ve betrayed our brothers & sisters. We’ve been in league with evil. Thus, it is only by the shedding of innocent blood whereby we might be restored to our calling to rule.

Aslan lays down his life so that Edmund might be given a knighthood, a throne, a crown, and a title (a new name). He goes from Edmund the bitter, Edmund the traitor, Edmund the worst; to Edmund the Just. Indeed, Peter tells us that their victory over the Witch in the Battle of Beruna was “all Edmund’s doing.” Those forgiven much, love much.

I’ll close with two final observations which should be of great encouragement to our faith in this enchanted world we live in. First, while Aslan is not a tame lion, he is good. You won’t get far if you think you can keep God on a leash, or whistle Him up when it is convenient. You are in His Story, so boldly follow Him in His wild romps of restoration, knowing that even when things get messy it is all working together for your good and His glory.

Lastly, the most touching moment of LWW is when Lucy and Susan discuss whether to let Edmund know all that Aslan did & suffered to redeem him:

“Does he know.” whispered Lucy to Susan, “what Aslan did for him? Does he know what the arrangement with the Witch really was?”
“Hush! No, of course not,” said Susan.
“Oughtn’t he to be told?” said Lucy.
“Oh, surely not.” said Susan. “It would be too awful for him. Think how you’d feel if you were he?”
“All the same I think he ought to know,” said Lucy.

Lucy is interrupted, so we never find out if she told Edmund. I’d like to think Lucy did tell Edmund, but all the same, he could never comprehend all the greatness of what was done for him. The poignant truth which Lewis brings in this exchange is that we too have been told of our redemption, and though we cannot comprehend the full scope of all that was done by Christ in our stead, we are brought to be, as Wesley’s hymn puts it, “Lost in wonder, love, and praise.”