Listening to Narnia

To keep myself from falling asleep during the drive from DC back to Pittsburgh, I decided to turn on the Chronicles of Narnia audiobooks. It has been almost a decade and a half since the last time I’ve read them, and a little longer still since I watched the original TV series on the small CRT in Auntie Sandy’s minivan. It is just like what Jack (C.S. Lewis) said, that adults get more out of children’s stories than children. I can finally call myself an adult right?

“Well, I do think someone might have arranged about our meals,” said Digory.

“I’m sure Aslan would have, if you’d asked him,” said Fledge.

“Wouldn’t he know without being asked?” said Polly.

“I’ve no doubt he would,” said the Horse (still with his mouth full). “But I’ve a sort of idea he likes to be asked.”

The first book I listened to was the Magician’s Nephew. As the narrator proclaimed, this story is about Creation as God intended in Genesis, with trust and betrayal and forgiveness all tied into it. In the entire book, this part stood out to me the most, where Fledge the flying horse attempted to explain the heart of God/Aslan to the two children. We know that God is omniscient, that He knows everything, but does God really like to be asked for requests? Hmmmmm I will have to stew on this for a while. This is part of prayer isn’t it? As Jesus, Paul, and James explained? But what happens to those who don’t believe at all in the power of prayer?

“Aslan?” said Mr. Beaver. “Why, don’t you know? He’s the King. He’s the Lord of the whole wood, but not often here, you understand. Never in my time or my father’s time. But the word has reached us that he has come back. He is in Narnia at this moment He’ll settle the White Queen all right. It is he, not you, that will save Mr. Tumnus.”

Going into the second book chronologically, which was actually the first book published in the series, several other passages stood out, including this one. Oh and I didn’t know that a Faun holding an umbrella was the image that started the entire series, and that Jack used to play in his grandfather’s wardrobe with his friends/siblings. Kudos to Lewis’s adopted son for telling me that. This part of the story really stood out to me because the children, especially Peter and Lucy, really wanted to save Mr. Tumnus from Queen Tardis/White Witch. But what Mr. Beaver kept repeating (like a million times) in sound theology was that no human or creature can truly save another, only Aslan can. “It is he, not you.” That is always a huge thorn in my side, because I really really want to help everyone I meet. I want to solve their problems. I don’t just want to be there and care and listen, I want everyone to be joyful, to be at peace in life, to not be weighed down by the cruelties and sufferings of this world. But I know I can’t. Too often I can’t even take care of myself, lest another person. Too often I can only stand there and watch people cry and break down. I am weak and unable to save a soul, and that is reality. That is why I must find my Aslan, for it is He who is coming to save those who are oppressed and turned to stone.

“Is—is he a man?” asked Lucy.

“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.”

“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ’Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Mmmmm. This part. Gold. Christianity isn’t safe. It will destroy your life. God isn’t safe, hence why we always say to fear God. But we have to remember that God is good. He is good. He is good. And He is our King.

One of the things that bothered me was how much of a prick and scumbag Edmund was in the story. Like, I totally forgot how freaking dirty he was until I listened to the story again. Man I wanted to like…reach into my car’s stereo and punch the little brat. Ya, just like Peter calls him, he is a total beast. But of the four children, Edmund personifies the human race. Of the four children, I am Edmund. Reality hits home. He was the son of Adam that Aslan brought back to the side of good by allowing Himself to be sacrificed instead, just like Christ took the place on the Cross for me and removing God’s wrath from my destiny. Ya, realizing that was a sobering fact on the drive while driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I still want to kick Edmund in the rear end though.