Lucy Won't Grow Up?

A while ago we asked what would have happened to the Pevensie children had they not been killed in the railway accident. For now I'm going to concentrate on Lucy before going off on some other topic (yet again)... 

We've mentioned previously that Lucy is unique amongst the Pevensie children in that she is the only one who does not grow up. At the end of The Lion the Witch and Wardrobe Lewis describes how the children, "grew and changed as the years passed over them." Lucy is described last, and Lewis writes about her, "But as for Lucy, she was always gay and golden-haired..." She did not change, she kept her childlike traits of curiosity, passion, adventurous, and the like as we've discussed before. 

But what would have happened had she grown up in our world? 

Of course, we don't know, she was killed at age 17, still very much a friend of Narnia. Still, we have heroines in Lewis' oeuvre and maybe some of them can serve as models. The most obvious parallel would be Sarah Smith from The Great Divorce. Sarah had "unbearable beauty" no doubt beyond that of all mortals. She is not the only Lewis heroine to have such beauty stemming from the inner spiritual manifesting outward, Psyche (and eventually Orual) do as well. Lucy too sought beauty beyond the lot of mortals and achieves it (almost) upon seeing Aslan.

But what next? Does Lucy join a convent and dedicate her life to Jesus? Does she go to university and give up on spirituality altogether, favoring physical beauty over spiritual? Our Sages suggest this is what happened to Noah's great-grandfather Hanoch, who God killed young before he could go off the proper path. Or does Lucy lead a "normal" Christian life, marrying, having children and grandchildren follow her ways, before her eventual passing?

It's hard to tell since Lewis does not provide us with too many happily married couples. Sarah Smith is married, but her husband is quite the tragedian as we see in the Great Divorce. How they could have gotten along is anyone's guess. And that marriage was probably more successful than that of poor Robert to his overbearing wife. In Narnia, Aravis and Cor marry and seem happy, though we don't know much about their married life besides that they argue and make up. Psyche marries, but, with Orual's help, that doesn't go very well. There are some couples in the Space trilogy: Mark and Jane are married, but that seems more of a convenience than a marriage until the end. Nor do we see methods of having (and raising) children - Lewis speaks positively about family, but we don't see too many.    

Nonetheless, I'm going to assert that Lucy does not grow up. She keeps her valiance, hopefully finds someone appropriate and lives happily ever after. 

Gaiety and Valiance

Lucy, though grownup at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, remains “gay and goldenhaired,” and is thus called Queen Lucy the Valiant. Therefore, if are to understand valiance in the character of Lucy, we must first define “gay.” 

Lewis uses the word “gay” 16 times in the Chronicles (and the word "gaiety" once). Six of those times are in The Silver Chair upon Puddleglum, Eustace, and Jill's discovery that the giants plan to eat them. Puddleglum directs the children to act “gay,” and gives us something of a definition: “Gay. As if we hadn't a care in the world.” Of course, as Lewis notes, Puddleglum, and Marsh-wiggles in general, are absolutely horrid at acting gay. In fact, they may be the exact opposite of "gay" given that Marsh-wiggles always expect the worst and act in direct opposition of carefree. 

Three times gay is used in the context of clothes. Perhaps clothes can also be carefree, but it’s difficult to imagine that Aravis, for example, when trying to trick her father into thinking how happy she was being engaged to Ahoshta, put on “her most carefree clothes.” Rather gay in this context presumably means the brightest, fanciest, and most merry clothes. This definition does not contradict the previous one, rather it explains that forces us to redefine carefree. Carefree does not mean not caring, but it means having an affectation of not caring because one is cheerful and optimistic. 

In Prince Caspian, the word gay is twice used with respect to flora: the rowans surrounding Aslan when he awakens the trees are called gay, and the hedges that Bacchus causes to sprout moments before they take down the bridge in Beruna are "gay with hawthorns." Both of these flora are colorful and bright and it would appear that “gay” here is used in the same way as with respect to clothes. 

Lewis also uses the word gay to describe wind (The Voyage of the Dawn Treader) and sound (The Horse and His Boy). The ship in the picture on the wall of Aunt Alberta’s back room (which becomes the Dawn Treader) runs before a “gay wind,” and King Lune’s hunting horn is “gay and merry.” In both of these cases the items in question presumably cause gaiety: the ship appears joyful as it sails along the waves, and the hunt is done with festivities and merriment. 

The final two occasions of the use of the description “gay” are connected with two of Narnia’s most important characters. Reepicheep, the most valiant of all beasts, is introduced as “a gay and martial mouse.” Finally, when Aslan reveals himself to Shasta in the Horse and His Boy he says “Myself,” in a voice that is “loud and clear and gay.” 

As a whole these examples suggest that “gay,” as used by Lewis in the Chronicles, means joyous, optimistic, and ready to face the future. Yet, this should not be conflated with frivolous or without seriousness (though Puddlieglum and the children likely tried to behave that in that way before the giants). After all, one would certainly not characterize Reepicheep, let alone Aslan himself, as frivolous. 

Lucy’s gaiety is what makes her so attractive to princes who value joy over graciousness, and optimism over courtliness. It is what made her so charming in the eyes of the people who saw gold in her hair. And it is what made her so beloved to Aslan in whom she placed the complete faith and devotion of a young child for a parent. 

However, “gay” alone is insufficient to characterize valiant. We see this because the two terms are also contrasted. The sound of the trumpets before King Edmund’s army on their its way to defend King Lune was “not huge and solemn like the horns of Tashbaan nor gay and merry like King Lune's hunting horn, but clear and sharp and valiant.” From this it appears that valiance has an aspect of sharpness, perhaps immediacy, that is lacking in gaiety. 

We will examine this further in our next post. 

Retaining Childhood

In our quest to define valiance we have temporarily shifted our focus from Reepicheep to Lucy. The adult Lucy was called Queen Lucy the Valiant it seems, because she always “remained gay and golden-haired.” Perhaps unlike the other Pevensies she did not change as she grew older, she retained childhood. This, I claimed, displays her valiance. However, to demonstrate this we must examine whether retaining childhood is desirable for religious man. 

The adult is too clever. Utility is his guiding light. The experience of God is unavailable to those approaching it with a businesslike attitude. Only the child can breach the boundaries that segregate the finite from the infinite. Only the child with his simple faith and fiery enthusiasm can make the miraculous leap into the bosom of God... When it came to faith, the giants of Torah, the geniuses of Israel, became little children, with all their ingenuousness, gracefulness, simplicity, their tremors of fear, their vivid experiences and their devotion to them... Whenever [Moses] fell before God, he cried like a child. Who can fall before his father, raise his eyes to him alone, to seek consolation and salvation, if not the child! ... The mature, the adult, are not capable of the all-embracing and all-penetrating outpouring of the soul. The most sublime crown we can give a great man sparkles with the gems of childhood. (Divrei Hagut Ve-ha'arakha, pp.159-160; in English: Shiurei Harav, pp.63-64)

In the above passage. R’ Joseph B. Soloveitchik speaks of the childlike nature necessary for one to truly trust, pray to, and devote themselves to God. An adult is too practical, too sophisticated. Only one with emotional purity and unbridled enthusiasm can reach out to the Infinite. 

And, indeed, Lucy’s childness reveals itself in just those occasions. When seeing Aslan for the first time in Prince Caspian, Lucy, “Never stopped to think whether he was a friendly lion or not. She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment.” Similarly, when Aslan reveals himself to Lucy in the Magician’s house in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader Lucy, “Ran forward with a little cry of delight and with her arms stretched out.” And finally, when unable to escape the Dark Island Lucy (and only Lucy) prays a childlike prayer, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now.” Like a child demanding the purchase of a toy saying, “If you don’t buy it for me, it shows that you don’t love me.” 

But Aslan listens. Aslan rejoices in Lucy’s unbridled love, trust, and hope as a father rejoices in every action of his children. Therefore, at the end of time it is Lucy who, “was drinking everything in even more deeply than the others.” It was she who could integrate more fully into the true Narnia. 

Lewis himself notes the importance of retaining childhood at the end of the Silver Chair. In a parenthetical comment he notes, “Even in this world, of course, it is the stupidest children who are most childish and the stupidest grown-ups who are most grownup.” He expands on this in Mere Christianity:

[Christ] wants a child's heart, but a grown-up's head. He wants us to be simple, single-minded, affectionate, and teachable, as good children are; but He also wants every bit of intelligence we have to be alert at its job, and in first-class fighting trim. 

In An Experiment in Criticism Lewis enumerates other positive characteristics of childhood:

If we are to use the words ‘childish’ and ‘infantile’ as terms of disapproval, we must make sure that they refer only to those characteristics of childhood which we become better and happier by outgrowing. Who in his sense would not keep, if he could, that tireless curiosity, that intensity of imagination, that facility of suspending disbelief, that unspoiled appetite, that readiness to wonder, to pity, and to admire?”

Like R’ Soloveitchik, Lewis provides a list of childhood characteristics that have value, and should be held on to, even by a grownup. While not exactly the same, and perhaps disagreeing on R’ Soloveitchik’s tremors of fear, the lists appear to complement each other. 

Lucy, by not changing as she has grown up, presumably retains these characteristics. And indeed, we see manifestations of these characteristics even in the short time the Chronicles relate to Lucy as an adult. For example, in The Horse and His Boy it is Lucy who is willing to give Rabadash another chance and it is Lucy who retells the adventures of her and her siblings entrance into Narnia. In The Last Battle, it is Lucy who pities the dwarfs who cannot see the grandeur that surrounds them, and Lucy is the one described as “drinking everything in even more deeply than the others.” 

Our next step is then to determine how to concretize these characteristics into “valiance.” For this, we need to define one more term. In the context of her being titled Queen Lucy the Valiant we are told that she remains, “gay and golden-haired.” So, our next step is to understand how Lewis utilizes the term “gay.” 

Valiance (Part 2)

Valiance is a character trait that appears to be highly regarded by Lewis in the Chronicles of Narnia especially in the person of Reepicheep the Mouse. What is the definition of valiance and why is it important to the religious persona? Quite a while ago, we started to explore this question. Then, we noted that, minimally, one who is valiant is not scared. However, that alone is insufficient to define the term, or to explain the actions of Reepicheep, the most valiant of all beasts in Narnia. 

In this post we seek to further understand valiance by concentrating on another character conferred the title of valiant, Queen Lucy. The passage calling out Lucy’s valiance is from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe:

But as for Lucy, she was always gay and golden-haired, and all princes in those parts desired her to be their Queen, and her own people called her Queen Lucy the Valiant.

Lucy’s valiance is manifest in that she is “always gay” and was the desire of many princes. This description of Lucy should be immediately contrasted with that of Susan. Susan is described as being, “a tall and gracious woman with black hair that fell almost to her feet and the kings of the countries beyond the sea began to send ambassadors asking for her hand in marriage.” Susan is gracious, while Lucy is gay. Susan is wanted by kings, and Lucy by princes. Why would kings want Susan and princes want Lucy? 

Lewis contrasts the roles of King and prince in the Horse and His Boy. In that story, Corin, surprisingly, rejoices at the appearance of his elder brother Cor exclaiming, “It’s princes that have all the fun.” King Lune agrees, explaining, “For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat…”

So, princes, who are out having fun and adventures would naturally want the happy and joyful Lucy. While kings, who have more serious jobs to do, would certainly rather be matched with the gracious Susan. Frankly, this comparison doesn’t look too good for Lucy. It’s almost like she’s not capable of being serious.

I think, however, Lewis has something else in mind. Lewis starts the description of the four children many years after the Great War with, “And they themselves grew and changed as the years passed over them.” Continuing with “And Peter…,” and again with “And Susan…” Then finishing with “But as for Lucy…” Why is Lucy “but” while the others are “and”? 

We are forced to say that while the other children grew and changed, Lucy did not. She remained gay and golden haired, she retained childhood. 

However, for Lewis, retaining childhood is not a negative. 

Quite the opposite, it’s valiant! 

More in my next post. 

Always Winter and Never Christmas (Part 2)

 Always Winter and Never Christmas

In our first installment on the above words of the Faun Tumnus we asked the question, why is winter without Christmas such a tragedy? The answer we provided was motivated by the words of Pastor Ray Fowler, Christmas provides a respite to the hard winter and makes worthwhile the work and stress that the winter brings. In Narnia, however, there was no Christmas. There was no vacation and there was no satisfaction in a job well done. 

In this post I would like to explore an alternate reading of Always Winter and Never Christmas as suggested by Pastor Robert Marsh:

Each year, beginning on June 22, the number of minutes of sunlight we enjoy each day begins to shrink. From 15 hours and 2 minutes on that day, the time we have in the sun shrinks until December 22, when we have only 9 hours and 20 minutes. But as we approach that shortest day, I find myself telling people around me, and reminding myself, that the days immediately start getting longer again – gradually building till that wonderful 15 hour day in June! We need that hope – that reminder that things will once again return to the warmth and light of summer! 

But imagine if there were no hope – imagine if on December 23, the minutes of daylight kept getting fewer – and scientists told us that it would never get better – no hope! Imagine the despair of being hope-less! Of feeling there is no end to the misery, no light at the end of the tunnel – no reason or purpose to go on. 

Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote, “If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all.” That’s how the world would be with no Christmas...

In this reading Christmas is not just a respite from difficult times, or even the reward or satisfaction achieved due to hard work. Rather, Christmas is a beacon of hope that things can improve. In a moment the world can be transformed for the better, things need not remain as they are now. 

While I appreciate Pastor Marsh’s insight and his entwinement of the darkness of winter due to the natural shortening of the day with the evil doings of the White Witch, I believe that some more depth can be provided to Christmas’ theme of hope. For that I would like to turn to perhaps an unlikely source: the Talmud. 

The incompatibility of Judaism with the pagan gods is such that Talmudic law forbids certain interaction with pagans lest they use items gained in such interactions as a means for worshipping their gods. Thus, a Jew must be especially careful around the time of pagan holidays when worshippers are more likely to make dedications to their temples. In order to facilitate this, the Mishna (Avoda Zara 1:3) provides a list of pagan holidays which includes Saturnalia and Kalenda. The Talmud (Avoda Zara 8a) explains that Kalenda is the celebration after the Winter Solstice (the kalends was the first day of the Roman month) and Saturnalia is the celebration before the Winter solstice. 

The Talmud then relates the origin of these holidays. After Adam’s sin and his exile from the Garden of Eden, he realized that the days were getting shorter and the nights longer. Perhaps, he thought, I have ruined the world and the darkness will continue to grow until the universe reverts to nothingness. He then spent 8 days in fasting and prayer. When the solstice came Adam realized that this was simply a natural cycle and he then spent the next 8 days in celebration. Starting the next year, he celebrated both sets of 8 days as holidays. Of course, Adam set aside these holidays to celebrate God’s command over nature, and the pagans came and misused them for idol-worship. 

The connections between Saturnalia and Christmas have been noted time and again. Unfortunately, these similarities are used as an attack on Christianity. The thought process appears to be that if a religious holiday grew out of a pagan ritual (though the religion now utterly rejects paganism) this somehow is a point of ridicule. I must admit, I fail to see why this should be so. The Christian faith (perhaps Pope Julius I) understood the importance of a celebration around the Winter Solstice as symbolic to the birth of the Christian Messiah. 

The (Christain) theology perhaps goes something like this: the time before said messiah came into the world was one of great troubles: God’s people had splintered into numerous, warring sects. The Pharisees who were teachers of law, were hypocritical and corrupt. They put minutiae before ethics and did not truly love God. This was a time of great spiritual darkness. At this time, when the world was at its bleakest, the messiah was born. He did not immediately engender change, but the moment before he was born was rock bottom, the nadir. After that the situation started to improve until such time that it will come to full day. 

This is symbolized by the natural cycle of light and darkness during the year. At the autumnal equinox, the amount of light and darkness are equal. After that, there is more darkness than light until the solstice, the day of greatest darkness. However, after the solstice the situation begins to improve. It is still dark for most of the day but the amount of light increases. The solstice may be rock bottom, but only because there is a rock bottom, can light start to increase.  

Christmas represents the turnaround from the darkest day of the year. It’s still dark and cold, and will be for quite a while, but at least it is getting lighter. But what if there was no Christmas? What if there was no rock bottom, but it always remained dark as it is on the day of the solstice? What if there could not be a turnaround because everything is (and always will be) static? That was the situation in Narnia. It was not just that there was no hope, but that there was no worst, and therefore no chance or possibility for improvement. It was just always winter, the White Witch would always be queen, and evil would always be triumphant. 

Therefore, the first step in the redemption of Narnia must be Christmas. The arrival of Santa Claus brings joy in hot drinks and a good breakfast, but that is only temporary. It is still cold, the White Witch is still queen, and she can (and does) still cause much harm. What Santa Claus permanently brings is the realization that the worst has past, and that the situation can be improved. It hasn’t improved yet, but he provides the tools that are needed induce change. Those tools, with determination and faith, will bring about the Narnian redemption.

Always Winter and Never Christmas (Part 1)

Always Winter and Never Christmas

Lucy’s first visit to Narnia almost ends in tragedy. Unbeknownst to her, the Faun Tumnus, whom she had befriended and whose house she was visiting, was covertly planning to lull her to sleep and hand her over to the queen of Narnia, the White Witch. The nefarious plan would have succeeded had Tumnus not been overcome by guilt. He repents, asks Lucy for forgiveness and explains that, though he was in the pay of the White Witch, he now understands the error of his ways. 

In the course of his confession, Tumnus attempts to convey to Lucy that his being in the pay of White Witch is indeed evil. He demonstrates her wickedness by explaining: 

Why, it is she that has got all Narnia under her thumb. It’s she that makes it always winter. Always winter and never Christmas; think of that!

As a child, this made a lot of sense to me. I knew, of course, that Christmas was a very important holiday because that was when non-Jewish children got presents (our parents told us that Santa Claus was not real, but we would never ruin the surprise for any non-Jewish children we might speak to). Due to the White Witch, the children in Narnia never got presents, and certainty it takes a singularly evil person to want to take away an opportunity to receive presents. 

Rereading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as an adult, I came to realize that Lewis probably had more in mind than presents and the like. But what is it? Why is winter without Christmas such a tragedy? Furthermore (as I am not Christian), is there a parallel to be drawn to the Jewish winter holiday, Hanukkah? 

Not surprisingly, there have been Christian pastors who have used this statement of Tumnus to demonstrate the importance of the Christmas holiday. Pastor Ray Fowler emphasized the importance of the holiday as follows:

Can you imagine what it would be like if it were always winter, never Christmas? First of all, just imagine if it were always winter. Now maybe some of you happen to love the winter, but how would you like to deal with ice and snow, sub-freezing temperatures, and having to clean and scrape your car every morning, every day? ...

So, this “always winter” thing would be bad enough. But what if it were always winter, never Christmas? That would be even worse! You know, we may not always like the ice and snow and cold, but at least when it gets cold around here, it’s a sign that Christmas is coming. And for many people, Christmas is that bright spot in the middle of winter that somehow makes it all worth it. But what if there were no Christmas? What if the Christmas season never came? Think about it – no holiday decorations, no family gatherings, no Bright Nights at Forest Park, no Christmas carols or concerts, no Christmas trees, no Christmas presents, no Christmas vacation (!), (kids, that means you would be in school all December long), no Charlie Brown Christmas specials, no Jimmy Stewart and “It’s a Wonderful Life.” It would be all winter, all the time, but never any Christmas.

The pastor notes that Winter is difficult. It is cold and icy. But at least there is Christmas to look forward to, and that makes the troubles worthwhile. 

Transitioning this thought back to Narnia, we would then understand Tumnus’ statement as follows. The White Witch has made the lives of Narnians really difficult. It is always cold and icy, but it is worse than the winters we are used to, because there is no redeeming factor. Life in Narnia is all work and no reward, no validation, and no purpose. 

This reading of Tumnus’ statement is a straightforward or grown-up extension of the naive understanding I had as a child. A child might say, were things as they should be, children who are “good” would be rewarded with presents on Christmas. The White Witch is mean because, due to her, no Narnian children receive presents. The adult version of this is that winter is “hard,” and Christmas is a reward for the toil and a purpose of the hard work. The hours of hard work, celebrated with great joy surrounded by friends and family, become worthwhile. In Narnia such reward and purpose do not exist. 

Such a situation was in fact what the Israelites of old experienced in Egypt. Our sages tell us that the Jews were forced to work meaningless, non-constructive jobs with no ultimate purpose. They were thus lacking even the ability to even take pride in their work, to congratulate themselves on a job well-done. A similar cruelty was applied by the White Witch. There was work to be done but no ultimate satisfaction. 

(Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash)

A Pagan Narnia?

Having acknowledged the motivation for having a Jewish Narnia we must address the question of how to write one. Perhaps the best way to do this is to determine how C.S. Lewis wrote the Chronicles of Narnia. If his method is particularly Christian, our work becomes more difficult. If, however, the method is religiously agnostic, perhaps the path ahead is already partially paved. 

Critics have long pointed to the lack of an overarching framework of the seven books of the Chronicles of Narnia. While three of the books are clearly Christological: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe where Aslan is resurrected, The Magician’s Nephew where Aslan is the Creator, and The Last Battle where we have the antichrist and apocalypse, the other four are not. As if that was not sufficiently strange, the stories introduce a hodge-podge of mythological characters, with Bacchus and Silenus on the same pages as a modern-day depiction of Santa Claus complete with reindeer and presents. J.R.R. Tolkien was especially dismissive saying that the series was carelessly and superficially written. Others simply stated that the works were written by an author who was a novice, especially in children’s literature. Even Lewis’ supporters were left struggling to understand these seeming inconsistencies.    

The search for a unifying theme encompassing the seven books of the Chronicles of Narnia (and the criticism of its lack of such a theme) underwent a monumental shift with Prof. Michael Ward’s publication of “Planet Narnia.” Ward’s thesis addressed all of these charges and more, satisfactorily answering: (1) why the Chronicles were written, (2) why they are not uniformly allegorical, and (3) why they are so popular. No summary of “Planet Narnia” can do justice to Ward’s majestic work and I strongly urge everyone to read it. Nevertheless, I will attempt to concisely highlight the main aspects of the work that will help us achieve our goal: creating a Jewish Narnia.

Ward posits that each of the seven books in the Chronicles of Narnia is a manifestation of one of the seven wandering planets in the Ptolemaic model of the solar system. The Ptolmeic model sees Earth at the center of the universe surrounded by increasingly larger concentric spheres or heavens. Each sphere is home to one of the seven wandering stars. In order of closest to furthest they are the moon (Luna), Mercury, Venus, the sun (Sol), Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. Outside of the sphere of Saturn is the heaven of the fixed stars and beyond that the Primum Mobile, the sphere that conveys movement to the other spheres. God is the Unmoved Mover, who moves the Primum Mobile but Himself is not moved. While Lewis was fully aware that this model is not scientifically accurate, he believed that the planets in this model had permanent value as spiritual symbols.

Ward then details how each of the Chronicles of Narnia is permeated with symbolism representative of that planet. Not the astronomical body that we associate planets with today, but the pagan God of Roman mythology. Thus, in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which manifests Jupiter, we read of Aslan as king of the beasts, Peter as the High King, and that “once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia.”  In the Magician’s Nephew, a manifestation of Mercury, we read of the need for swiftness of Shasta and Rabadash, and that the lion (Aslan) was swift of foot. And The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, manifesting Sol, is a tale of sailing to the utter east where the ocean becomes liquid light. 

However, it is not just thematically that the books reflect the chief characteristics of Roman deities. Hints, references, and oblique innuendos of the appropriate god’s characteristics permeate each of the books. Thus, if in the militaristic Mars-manifesting chronicle Prince Caspian we see an emphasis on trees and forests it is due to Cato the Elder’s usage of Mars Silvanus (from which we get the English word sylvan). If we find twins in the Mercurial The Horse and His Boy, it is because Mercury as king of the Gemini is exerting his influence. And if we find moonlit nights and silver chairs in The Silver Chair it must be that Luna is riding her silver chariot across the skies of Narnia.  

In each book Lewis attempted to create an atmosphere or environment of the particular planet/god. In this, his goal is not to identify the particular planet, but to have us live the planet. When we read The Lion the Witch, and the Wardrobe we should live and be Jovial, and when we read Prince Caspian we should live and be Martial.

Why did Lewis not reveal this superstructure of the Chronicles of Narnia?

Lewis did not tell us what he was trying to create because then we would study how successful he was in his creation. Instead, he wanted us to become permeated with the atmosphere of the book and look all around us from the point of view of the atmosphere he created. Reformulating, Lewis wanted us to look ‘along the beam’ and not at the beam. When we look along the beam, we do not pay attention to the beam itself but to what it enlightens.

In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader Lucy looked along the beam and saw God. Lewis wants us to look along the beam and see God from the perspective of each of the seven planets. We will expand on this in our next post.

Pre-Commemorating Christmas

It looked just as if he had been doing his Christmas shopping

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Christmas, and Father Christmas, play a highly symbolic role in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Analyzing that story and its message of hope, redemption, and the wheel of fortune, will require many posts and will have to wait until next year. At present, I would like to examine the first time Christmas is mentioned in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It appears in a descriptive and almost nonchalant fashion. Yet its mere mention can teach us of the fundamental nature of redemption.

The first creature Lucy Pevensie meets when she enters the world of Narnia through the wardrobe is the faun Tumnus. Tumnus is described in great detail: his appearance, what he is wearing, and what he is holding. Curiously, the faun is holding something very unusual for fauns, known in Narnia for music and dance: several brown-paper parcels. In fact, describes Lewis, “it looked just as if he had been doing his Christmas shopping.”

This description is rather odd as, presumably, Tumnus was not doing his Christmas shopping. He later tells Lucy that the White Witch has cast a spell over Narnia making it, “Always winter, and never Christmas.” We never actually learn what is in the parcels Tumnus is holding. If so, why the gratuitous mention of Christmas? Why does Lewis describe Tumnus as shopping for a Holiday which Tumnus himself understands will never come?

Two biblical vignettes, interpreted by the Jewish Sages, may shed light on this description.

1) Two men (understood to be angels), having recently been guests at the home of Abraham, enter the evil city of Sodom with orders from God to utterly destroy it and its environs. They are met by Lot, the nephew of Abraham. Lot invites them to his home and serves them matza, the bread of affliction of which Jews are commanded to eat on the night of Passover. Our Sages teach that this was appropriate because that evening was actually (on the calendar) the night of Passover. In fact, our Sages insist that Abraham also served the men matza for the same reason. Of course, the Israelite redemption from Egypt for which Passover is celebrated would not happen for several centuries. So, why eat matza?

2) As Isaac prepares to bless his eldest son Esau before death, Rebecca insists that her younger son Jacob disguise himself as his brother in order to receive Isaac’s blessing. She commands Jacob to bring two goats so that she can prepare food for Isaac. Could Isaac really eat two goats? Why is one not enough?

Our Sages give two explanations: (1) the two goats symbolize the two goats that would eventually play a central role in the Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) ritual, (2) one goat was for the Passover sacrifice and one was for the meal. Again, the events which Passover commemorates were yet to happen. The concept of Yom Kippur as a day of repentance had not yet come to the world. How can there be symbolism or celebration of events and ideas that have yet to occur?

Certain concepts and ideas are inherent in Creation. Man must be given the opportunity to repent his sins. Redemption and the triumph of good over evil must have its time. The fact that these ideals, repentance and redemption, had not at the times of Abraham and Isaac, yet been manifest in their fullest form chronologically, is irrelevant to their celebration and commemoration. Abraham, Lot, and Rebecca, did not know of the future events which would lead to Passover and Yom Kippur, but their actions were anyway guided towards commemoration of those events because the ideals behind them are timeless.

The same is true with Tumnus the faun. Tumnus had no inkling that on that particular evening he would initiate the events that would lead to long hoped-for triumph of good over evil in Narnia. Nonetheless, the concept of redemption was already promised and was integral to the being of Narnia. Tumnus, due to his sterling character and ultimate destiny, reflects this timeless truth. Why he went shopping that particular evening is irrelevant. His actions were guided by his internal compass that told him that redemption would occur and he must prepare. In this way Tumnus could commemorate Christmas, symbolizing the Narnian redemptive process, even before it happens.

(Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash)

But He's Good: Aslan

'Course He Isn't Safe, But He's Good

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

What are the dominant characteristics that we attribute to God?

Certainly there are many possibilities. The bible records that God Himself enumerated 13 Attributes of Mercy which are, in part or as a whole, invoked by later prophets. These include that He is merciful, gracious, slow to anger and so on. We may turn to the amidah the center of the Jewish prayer service in which we praise God as, “great, mighty, and awesome.” But, perhaps an even more dominant trait, one that appears throughout the bible, is that God is good.

The Psalmist calls out to the crowd that has gathered to praise God with the opening, “Praise the Lord, for He is good, for his kindness is everlasting.” Indeed, at pivotal moments of Jewish history, great leaders have utilized this exhortation. King David calls upon his people to praise God when he brings the Ark of the Covenant to the capital city of Jerusalem using this same verse. When his son, King Solomon, brings the Ark into his newly built Temple, it is with these very words that God’s presence becomes apparent. Many years later Jeremiah, at the moment when the Babylonians are besieging Jerusalem, about to fulfill the prophecies of doom which he himself delivered, comforts Israel:

So says the Lord, there will again be heard in this place… in the cities of Judea and the courtyards of Jerusalem that are desolate without men, without inhabitants, and without animals: the voice of happiness, the voice of rejoicing, the voice of the groom, the voice of the bride, the voice of those who say, “Praise God the Lord of Lord of Hosts, for the Lord is good, for His kindness is everlasting!” (Jeremiah 33:10-11)

Finally, upon laying the foundation for the second Temple, the priests and Levites sang in praise of God, for He is good for His kindness is everlasting.

Indeed, God’s goodness is so integral that it was fully imbued in our world. In the first chapter of Genesis, God sees each item he has created and declares it good, and when creation is complete he declares it very good.

What is goodness? A child may think that eating candy instead of vegetables is good because the child appreciates the sweet taste of the candy. Adults, however, are charged with restraining a child from acting this way. Adults understand that such goodness is fleeting and, ultimately, will not provide true goodness. Taking this argument to its logical conclusion we must realize that only God has a fully expansive and utterly comprehensive knowledge and vision. Thus, it is only He who can determine what is truly good. While mere humans may regard a particular event as good, bad or dangerous, only God can properly characterize the goodness of any occurence.

This lesson of determining ultimate goodness is one of the first taught to the Pevensie children during their adventures in Narnia. As the Beavers prepare them to meet the mysterious Aslan we find the following back-and-forth.

[Mr. Beaver] “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."

Aslan is not safe because safety implies that nothing will occur that you perceive as bad or dangerous. But he’s good and only under his guidance can the ultimate good be achieved. This contrast between safe and good has been the kernel of many a Christian sermon. I particularly like this one from Pastor Robert Marsh, especially as he reaches out to comfort those who may not feel particularly safe during “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” However, centuries ago the Talmudic Sages told stories and taught lessons emphasizing this very theme. We will explore some of these in our next post.