The Abdication of Queen Susan (Part 1)

 "My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

Perhaps one of the saddest parts of the Chronicles is the loss of Queen Susan from the Narnian afterlife. Much has been written (some not very complimentary to Lewis) concerning what caused Susan the Gentle to abandon her youthful beliefs, whether a reader could we have predicted from earlier actions or events that she would not hold out her fidelity to Narnian, and whether she can or will come eventually be redeemed. 

For our initial discussion let's see what can be derived from the text itself.  

The first statement regarding the transformation of Susan arises after King Tirian enters the stable and formally meets the seven "friends of Narnia" (the name comes from Tirian's vision earlier in the story when he sees the seven). After King Peter introduces him to the seven, Tirian realizes that one of the four ancient kings and queens, Susan, is missing. Tirian's question is answered by the above statement of Peter. While the present seven are friends are Narnia, Susan is no longer a friend. 

Lewis could have stopped there. After all, earlier Lewis told us that one of the dwarfs who shot the Talking Horses was allowed into the Narnian nirvana, but Lewis (in the mouth of Eustace) told us that it was not our business to know how the dwarf merited this ultimate reward. Lewis could have similarly kept quiet about Susan, but he does not end the discussion there. Instead, we have the following from King Edmund. 

"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says, `What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"

In other words, Susan does not deny that as children they all spoke about Narnia. She rather believes that they were simply playing games. Now as a grownup she realizes that those games were not real. From Susan's grownup point of view, Narnia is no different than the pretend friends and lively stuffed animals that populate the childhood of so many. Those were fine for children, but what value do they have once someone has (colloquially) matured?  

But let's reflect on this for a moment. We should ask ourselves the following question. Does it matter? What if Narnia was not real, if the whole of the Chronicles that were in the minds of the seven friends never actually took place. Should that matter? Does is matter that Hobbes is just a toy tiger in the eyes of Calvin's parents and teacher? Does is matter that Snuffleupagus could only be seen by Big Bird? 

On the one hand the answer is, of course! Truth matters! It matters that the Exodus happened, it matters that God revealed the Torah on Mount Sinai, so much of our religious life is based on these events how can one suggest that things of this sort don't matter? Well, that makes sense, but we've already seen Lewis express the opposite perspective when Puddleglum insisted he would live like a Narnian even without Narnia. 

And, in some ways, we're all like Puddleglum. If you're reading this, you probably value at least some aspect of Narnia. Maybe the Narnian Chronicles have taught you bravery, faith, and loyalty. Or maybe you were inspired to live your life closer to God. But Narnia is NOT real! There's nothing wrong with that. We can learn valuable lessons of morality and ethics from made up stories. We can think Narnia is important despite the fact that it was just the figment of the imagination of someone who lived decades ago in a country across an ocean (at least for me in the United States). We think Narnia is important even though it's not real. But not Susan... 

To Susan, Narnia should have been real. However, Susan's fault may be not that she stopped believing in the actuality of Narnia, but that she stopped believing the importance of Narnia. 

We will have to follow up on this in our next. 

A Hebraic Inkling: Chapter 1

In Chapter 1 of "A Hebraic Inkling" Brazier reviews Lewis' spiritual biography until the time of his conversion. Lewis biography is well known and I will not repeat it here. However, unlike other biographies of Lewis (of which there are many), Brazier tells Lewis' story in the context of the antisemitism Brazier asserts is inherent to the British Empire. Having conquered the world, the British had, in their mind, become the Chosen People, and thus Jews and Judaism had no place in Britain. Lewis himself, when a self-described atheist, was especially dismissive of the Jews calling them "class A primitives," and wondering aloud why one would waste their time reading the Hebrew Bible. 

However, God had other plans for Lewis. From the time he was a child Lewis had experienced sehnsucht, stabs of longing and beauty, what Lewis himself would later call Joy. Brazier states that these are times when the Holy Spirit (the divine presence) touch Lewis, though Lewis himself did not understand their cause. At the point Lewis came to understand, thanks to reading George MacDonald's Phantastes, that these experiences were not an end to themselves, but a mean reach their source, he found God. Lewis thus becomes a theist. 

This is not yet a full conversion to Brazier's Judeo-Christian God, that would wait until after his famed conversation with J.R.R. Tolkien and Hugo Dyson. However, later in life, Lewis would be thankful he was "permitted for several months, perhaps a year, to know God and to attempt obedience without even raising that question [that of future life]. My training was like that of the Jews to whom He revealed Himself centuries before there was a whisper of anything better (or worse) beyond the grave than shadowy and featureless Sheol" (Surprised by Joy page 179). 

Traditional Jews may disagree as to when the concept of life after death entered Judaism, but what is important for us at the moment is that Lewis accepted theism before Christianity and claimed (at least in one respect) that his conversion process followed that of God's revelation to the Jews, His chosen people. 

Brazier will further expand on this theme in the next chapter. 

Stories as Teachers of Morality

In our previous posts we have explored the moral value of stories as complement to the law. While the law may tell you how to act in a given situation, a story will instruct what situation you should place yourself. Thus, for example, the law may not have required the Maccabees to rebel against the Seleucids. Rather, they could have just followed the laws prescribed when one is forced to violate the Torah's prohibitions: for which prohibitions one must give up their life rather than violate and for which ones not. However, the Maccabees did rebel, spurred on by stories of Abraham, for example, who rescued his kinsman from the four kings despite the law not requiring him to do so. 

Another lesson one may learn from stories is what to do when the law does not cover a given situation. Now, of course, there are plenty of situations where the law, ethics, and morality do not play a role. But there are also a myriad number of scenarios in which there is a moral or ethical stake but are not covered by the law. The Torah addresses this in two ways: using catch-all type laws and telling stories. 

The Torah has several catch-all laws such as, "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Leviticus 19:18), and "You should do what is straight and good" (Deuteronomy 6:18). The challenge with these types of laws is that they are by definition not exact and instead teach ethics and values that undergird the law. What does one do when these values clash? 

And so we turn to stories. The biblical stories and accompanying aggadic works, the Narnian stories, and the host of fables, legends, myths, and fairytales employed by every culture teach the values of that culture. Of course, Jewish stories respect the law, but they go further and teach us the values to apply when the law does not. 

Let's look at an example we mentioned above. Abraham's nephew, Lot, was captured and held hostage by the armies of four kings from the east. Abraham has to make a choice, to fight for the release of his kinsman or to leave him be. If he chooses the first option, it is highly likely he will have to kill numerous enemies, and also sustain losses of his own people. If he chooses the second, Lot is likely to become a slave or perhaps he will be killed. It would have been easier to Abraham to just forget about his nephew and live in peace. After all, he and his nephew parted not on such great terms. However, Abraham places the moral value of protecting ones family even higher. He girds his men and is miraculously victorious. 

History repeats itself and such stories of great men and women continue to guide us to this day.   

Photo by Tom Hermans on Unsplash

Holiday Gifts: Tools Not Toys

These are your presents, and they are tools not toys

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

This Monday morning, millions of children and adults will wake up to presents given to them from relatives, friends, and, of course, Santa Claus. In the Jewish world, we've also adopted the custom of giving presents and have attached it to Chanukkah. I in no way am decrying this adaptation. Quite the opposite, I think this is one reason so many Jews continue to celebrate Chanukkah despite, perhaps, not always being engaged in religious practice. 

The topic for this post is on what is given as presents or what we want as presents. The media, of course, happily informs us what are the most popular toys and the "must haves" for the season. In "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," however, Lewis presents a nuanced and dual approach towards Christmas presents. 

Only in Narnia is one able to meet Father Christmas himself, and three Pevensie children were fortunate enough to receive presents directly from him. He warns them, however, that the presents are "tools, not toys," and the time to use them may be near at hand. In other words, Father Christmas, no doubt as a messenger of Aslan, provides the children what they need to face an uncertain and trying future. Peter is given the tool of war and eventually leads his troops into battle against the White Witch. Lucy is given the tool of medicine and provides healing to those wounded in the battle against evil. Susan is given the tool of prayer, calling out to Aslan, and uses it when attacked by the wolf. War, prayer, and the ability to heal are the tools needed to face difficult times in Narnia and in our world as well.  

And perhaps those are the types of presents we should hope for ourselves and to give to others. What do our children, our relatives, and our friends need in a world set against our morals and values? What tools can we give that will strengthen their stand for truth and their independence from the crowd dragging them down to the lowest common denominator? Those are presents worth giving! 

At least, those are one type of present worth giving. For Father Christmas presents something else to the children, "A large tray containing five cups and saucers, a bowl of lump sugar, a jug of cream, and a great big teapot all sizzling and piping hot." To some extent this present too helps them along their journey to greet Aslan. But mainly this present is so that they can enjoy the holiday, and that's also OK. 

In "Reflections on the Psalms," Lewis speaks of the role of chocolate eggs on Easter, noting that, "If he [the young boy who for the time has conflated the chocolate eggs with the spiritual aspects of the holiday] puts the spiritual first he can still taste something of Easter in the chocolate eggs. The command of Gods holiday comes first, but its holiness can spread to the mundane if recognized as such. 

Similarly here, the invitation to give presents is a means to teach our children, and even other relatives and friends, the importance of the holidays: that God rules the world, and that values such as kindness and charity flow from Him. But once those are established, the holiness of the holiday can extend to the presents that are toys as well.  

The sword, horn, and cordial given to the Pevensie children were indeed tools. But because they were given first, the spiritual celebration of Aslan's return extended to the tea as well.  

Never the Same Way Twice: The Chanukkah Story and the Story of Chanukkah

But things never happen the same way twice 

(Aslan, Prince Caspian)

In our last post we spoke about the role of stories in the bible We suggested while law may instruct us how to act in a certain situation, stories will guide us as to what type of situations we should put ourselves. 

However, there is related role for stories: to inspire us to go beyond the law. 

Over the last few days Jews throughout the world have told the story of Chanukkah which goes something like this: 

During the Second Temple period Judea was ruled by the Seleucid Empire under Antiochus IV. Though Judea had generally been granted a great deal of self-autonomy and were not restricted from practicing their religion, Antiochus eventually changed the status quo and decreed that the Jews must violate certain dictates of their religion including the dietary laws, the Shabbat, and circumcision. The Maccabees revolted and, on their way to winning Jewish political independence, captured Jerusalem and rededicated the Temple to the One God. 

As is well known, the Maccabees scoured the Temple for olive oil that was ritually pure in order to light the menorah (candelabra). However, all of the oil and most everything else in the Temple, had been profaned by the Seleucids and they were only able to find one small jug of pure olive oil, enough for one day. Famously the oil burned for eight days providing ample time to procure additional ritually pure oil. 

Was the Maccabean revolt required by Jewish law? A priori the answer would be no. Jewish law provides for circumstances when one is forced against compliance. Specifically, the law outlines when one must give up their life and when not. And while giving up one's life is necessary rather than worship idols, one can violate the above-mentioned laws without risking one's life. So why did they choose to revolt?

Presumably, they learned from other stories. Abraham risked his life to save his nephew Lot from the clutches of the four invading kings. Simeon and Levi risked their lives to free their sister from the rapist Sh'chem. The Maccabees, faced with rampant assimilation and the risk of devastating losses of Jews to their religion, followed their lead and fought for independence. 

However, as Aslan says in the quote above, salvation does not happen the same way twice, and in the United States the evolution of Chanukkah became a story in and of itself. 

Two thousand years after the Chanukkah story, in the late 1870s, a group of young Jewish men from New York and Philadelphia gathered to form Kiyam Deshmaya, a group dedicated to revitalizing Jewish life in America. I'll leave the details to others, but, faced with rampant assimilation the likes of which may not have been seen since Hellenism, they chose an exact opposite method for salvation. Yet, perhaps ironically, it was the Chanukkah story that was a cornerstone for their plans. 

Of course, Kiyam Deshmaya had no intention of following the Maccabees to arms. Quite the opposite, they exhibited nothing but gratitude to the "kingdom of kindness" that is the United States, rather they strove to make Chanukkah as American as any other holiday. They told their fellow citizens a story of Jews that reflected their own history and origin: to stand for what is right, that a small army can overcome a superpower if only God is on their side, and that even one spark of light can banish immense darkness. 

And it worked! 

All over the United States people graciously wish their Jewish fellow-citizens a Happy Chanukkah.   

Happy Chanukkah to all! 

C. S. Lewis Reading Day: A Physicist in Narnia

This post is in celebration and commemoration of C. S. Lewis on the first, hopefully annual, C. S. Lewis Reading Day. Congratulations to all of the societies, podcasts and YouTubers striving to bring God into the world through the works of C. S. Lewis. May they go "from strength to strength and appear before God in Zion. (Psalms 84:8)"

In keeping with the spirit and goals of the Day, I wanted to share and discuss one of my favorite Lewis quotes. Of course, here on Torah from Narnia, we've already discussed many of my favorite Lewis quotes and analyzed why, as an Orthodox Jew who clearly disagrees with Lewis on major theological issues, I appreciate and value Lewis' insight. 

However, this one is different. It comes from the first letter of The Screwtape Letters, and I would like to approach it not primarily as a religious Jew (though I can hardly divorce myself from that perspective) but as a physicist. 

First some background... 

During my first year at Yeshiva University, I took Physics with Professor Arthur Komar. To our class Prof. Komar was the stereotypical absent-minded, wild-eyed physicist. He had white hair and white beard. He wore the same black pants and a black button-down shirt every day (he later told us he just had lots of the same shirts and pants). He wore a string tie. He couldn't comprehend how we could not understand something. And he gave really hard tests. 

With God's help, I managed to do pretty well those first two semesters and the next Fall those of us who survived (and were glutton for punishment) took Prof. Komar again for Modern Physics. 

We braced ourselves for more hard work and long nights of studying in line with what we already knew of Professor Komar. But, for the first three of four classes of that semester, he did something utterly unexpected: he told stories. The stories were about attempts throughout the ages to measure the speed of light. He didn't tell these stories to instruct us how to do the experiments or even to prepare us for a test. He just told stories, and we were mesmerized. 

I can't say how those classes affected me at the time, probably I and my classmates were just relieved that we weren't immediately pounded with really hard problems in special relativity (though those were soon to come). Looking back, however, I may have internalized something more. Physics, for all its mathematical equations and mask of cold, calculated logic, was a quest, an epic adventure. And, as with any great adventure, there are stories to tell. Stories of triumphs and defeats, stories of loyal friends and sworn enemies, and that sometimes, as in stories, it's not easy to tell which is which. 

The reason I bring this up here on C. S. Lewis Reading Day is because in its essence, what Prof. Komar taught me was that there is a place for physicists in Narnia. 

To explain how let's turn to my chosen quote for the day: 

There have been sad cases among the modern physicists. 

Remember that this quote was "penned" by Screwtape, a senior devil, talking to Wormwood his nephew, a junior tempter trying to sway the human he is assigned to towards sin. So, Screwtape's assertion means that there have been modern physicists who have escaped the clutches of Hell. These physicists, despite the best efforts of the tempters, came to recognize God and were on the path to Heaven. I'm not sure who Lewis had in mind, but that's not my focus for the moment. Instead, I would like to thank about how these physicists made their escape.

Actually, Lewis himself provides an answer. Earlier in that same letter Screwtape encouraged his nephew to keep the human he is tempting towards sin away from the sciences. The problem with the real sciences (not the pseudo-science which makes up so much of popular science today), Lewis explains, is that "They will positively encourage him to think about realities he can’t touch and see and who knows what might happen after that!" In other words, it's easy for humans to doubt anything they cannot touch or see, including God. But a physicist is someone who spends much of his time pondering exactly those things (not to mention the non-intuitive concepts of quantum mechanics). At that point, belief in God is not such a great leap. 

I think that's a good argument. But if I were Screwtape (especially today), I would argue a bit differently. To explain, let me go back to my own thoughts on religion and science. 

Ever since I started showing interest in physics people, especially fellow traditional Jews, have raised the questions of science contradicting Judaism. Most of these questions relate to Genesis and the creation story. How can one believe in both the Biblical account of Creation and that of the modern physicist? Of course, there have been numerous books written trying to harmonize these two perspectives with varying degrees of success. 

Honestly, though, the question never bothered me, not even a little. Because from my perspective, both religion and science are attempting to determine truth and, not surprisingly, they do not always agree. Frankly, it's hard to imagine why anyone would think that they would agree. The great Sages had plenty of arguments in their attempts to find the truths of the laws and theology of Judaism. Great physicists have argued in their attempts to determine scientific truth. So why should the two disciplines always agree?

But, you know what? Generally, we figure things out. No Orthodox Jew disputes the rabbinic prohibition against eating chicken and milk together, or prohibiting the use of microphones on Shabbat, though these were both bitterly argued in the past. Similarly, physicists have accepted the Big Bang and the existence of Black Holes, though these too were in the past points of contention. The Big Bang can even be thought of as harmonizing science and religion as it posits a point in which the universe came into being (a time zero as it were). And, someday, we'll resolve all of the "contradictions" between science and religion as long as we seek to know truth: "For all find what they truly seek" (Aslan to Emeth at the end of The Last Battle).  

This shared goal of science and religion, seeking truth be it through God's word or God's creations, are why the tempters of today must keep science away from their "patients." For in a world of "multiple truths," science, real science, must teach otherwise. There is only one truth though we may not yet have achieved it fully and we may disagree where we are on that journey.    

In my humble opinion, the above perspective, harmonizing science and religion, creates an opening for scientists in the world of religion. An opening which, frankly, I think most scientists until relatively recently always took as a given. 

Still, merely permission to believe does not take us to Narnia. To call Narnia home requires prizing, not just intellect, but passion, imagination, and adventure. In other words, appreciating stories. The Deist tells no story: God created the world, and the rest is up to humans. Those of Judeo-Christian heritage and belief tell stories. 

Why the need for stories? Why does the bible tell so many stories as opposed to just being a code of law?  

I think there are a couple of approaches one can take to this question and I'll suggest one here. Laws tell us what to do in a given circumstance. Stories tell us what circumstances we should put ourselves into. For example, one can rightly ask what to do if they do not live close by to a synagogue or church, but stories would discourage us from living in such a place and thus avoid the whole question. 

The biblical stories and accompanying midrashic interpretations, and the Narnian stories and similar works, are meant to shape our minds and souls so that we will intuitively feel into what situations we should place ourselves and which ones not. 

In the modern world, there is a vision of a genius, physicist working for years, alone, to one day emerge having achieved an amazing discovery, a true eureka moment. 

It probably happens every once in a while, I guess, but it's rare. 

What really happens is much more social. Scientists try different things (theoretical or experimental). They talk to colleagues, they argue, they join forces and try something new. Maybe what they're trying doesn't work and they'll follow a new lead. Or maybe a collaboration doesn't go as hoped, and they'll work with someone else instead. Scientists put themselves into situations where they can maximize success but sometimes it's quite an adventure to get there. They thus write and tell stories, like the stories that Prof. Komar told me. 

And it is for this reason physicists also have a place in Narnia. And it is for this reason "there have been sad cases among the modern physicists." It is true that physicists by nature must think of (sometimes non-intuitive) concepts they cannot touch or see. It is additionally true that physicists must respect truth as an ideal and moral value. And it is especially true that physicists tell stories opening their eyes to imagination and adventure. 

And once someone starts to tell stories and value stories, they might get a glimpse of The Great Storyteller writing the ultimate story.  

Welcome to Torah from Narnia 

Susan's Horn

Much ink has been spilled on Susan Pevensie and her betrayal of Narnia. I think there's more that has to be said but that's not the goal for today. Instead, I'd like to think about not Susan herself, but Susan's horn. 

Susan's horn was given to her by Father Christmas in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. However, even Father Christmas seemed unsure of the extent of its powers, "And when you put this horn to your lips; and blow it, then, wherever you are, I think help of some kind will come to you." 

The horn is first blown soon after it was gifted when Susan was being chased by the Wolf. Nothing magical seemed to have happened at that time. Aslan and Peter hear the horn and Peter saves Susan by killing the Wolf. Afterwards, it seems that Susan regularly kept the horn at her side, since she had it during the fateful hunting of the White Stag which brought the Pevensies back to England (though it seems she did not have it in Calormen in The Horse and His Boy). 

At that point the horn was lost for several centuries until it was discovered by Dr. Cornelius. He, in turn, gave the horn to Caspian before the latter's flight from the castle of his usurping Uncle Miraz. It was Caspian who then blew the horn for a second time and, this time, we see its remarkable magical ability. Trumpkin the Dwarf was already many hours journey away from Caspian and, nonetheless, described what he heard, "there came a sound that I'd never heard the like of in my born days. Eh, I won't forget that. The whole air was full of it, loud as thunder but far longer, cool and sweet as music over water, but strong enough to shake the woods. And I said to myself, `If that's not the Horn, call me a rabbit.' " And, of course, the horn dragged the Pevensie children out of England and back into Narnia. 

After Caspian's victory he offers the horn back to Susan, who refuses to accept, but at this point (and not in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) Susan is cheered as Queen Susan of the Horn. 

We hear nothing of the horn for the rest of the Chronicles. It was not used again by Caspian even when trying to find his lost son. It was not used by King Erlian before falling in battle against the giants, and it was not used by King Tirian as Narnia came crashing down.  

However, we do find some other significant horns in The Last Battle. There is Father Time's horn which he blows to end the world, and there is King Frank's horn which gathers the Narnian heroes in the Narnian nirvana. What is the purpose of all of these horns?

Perhaps the purpose is to call others home. Father Time's horn unleashes a mass of shooting stars who eventually come down to Narnia, "All the stars were falling: Aslan had called them home." King Frank's horn brings the Narnian heroes further up and further in. 

What of Susan's horn?

Susan's horn brought Peter to knighthood. Susan's horn brought the Pevensies home to Narnia. And, I believe, Susan's horn will one day bring Susan, and all who are like her, home as well. 

In the U'netaneh Tokef prayer on the Days of Awe we are told of the Heavenly judgement. The great horn (the shofar) will be sounded causing even the angels to tremble. All creatures then come single file before God to be judged, "Like a shepherd pasturing his flock." However, this frightening picture is transformed if we look at the prooftext of Ezekiel. In the 34th chapter Ezekiel tells of the shepherds charged with caring for God's sheep - His people, the nation of Israel. The shepherds were irresponsible, even evil, not caring for the sheep, harming them, causing them to scatter to faraway places. 

God will punish the evil shepherds and then lovingly gather the sheep, "like a shepherd pasturing his flock." He will judge their needs and bring them home to the Land of Israel. Once again, the horn calls out to the people, "The day of judgement has arrived, God will seek you for it is time to come home."   

There are horns in this world even not on the Day of Judgement. They take on different forms: some are pleasant, some are excruciatingly painful. But they serve the same purpose, to call out to those who have strayed, it is time to come home.