Pre-Tisha b'Av

Apologies for my complete lack of updating. My only excuse is I've been working to write up some thoughts that I've had on kinnos. For those not familiar, we are approaching the 9th (tisha) day of the Hebrew month of Av which is a National Day of Mourning for the tragedies that have occurred to the Jewish people throughout its history. On that day, along with fasting and acting as mourners, we recite what are called kinnos, elegies recalling the various tragedies. For anyone who's interested, I talk about some of them here: Tisha b'Av Kinnos - YouTube and my time over the past few weeks has been to elaborate and write down some of these ideas.

Anyway, that was a pretty long excuse, but I'll be back soon. 

Kindness between Royals

As those who did the homework from the last post saw, in chapter 20 of 1 Kings, King Ahab of Israel is merciful to ben-Haddad the King of Aram. This same ben-Haddad had earlier in the chapter demanded Ahab's wives, children, gold and silver, and then launched a major offensive against Israel. Israel miraculously won the major battles and King Ahab frees ben-Haddad, calling him his brother.   

One might praise Ahab for his great kindness in the face of cruelty. Perhaps, some might say, ben-Haddad will be overcome with emotion over the goodness shown to him and turn over a new leaf bringing an era of peace between Israel and Aram. And even if he doesn't, it is necessary to give him that chance. Of course, ben-Haddad does not usher in peace. Ahab's kindness enables Aram to retain its strength which they eventually use to kill Ahab to severely harm Israel. 

Furthermore, we see that Ahab is not such a kind individual. For in the very next chapter, he steals a vineyard from one of his own subjects, Naboth the Jezreelite. How can we understand this sudden change of behavior?  

How could Ahab have shown such great kindness to ben-Haddad, but such cruelty to Naboth?

One answer may be that Ahab held of a strict divide between royalty and the proletariat. Ben-Haddad, for all he was evil, was a fellow royal. Similar to divine blood found in Lewis' royals of Glome, who could only marry fellow royals, Ahab could, without pause, be kind to a fellow king, while cruel to one of his own people. 

Should this be the case then King Lune may not have much to learn from Ahab's story. King Lune frees Rabadash, not from a sense of kinship between royals but in hopes that he will have learned his lesson and out of a recoiling from killing Rabadash not in battle. Thanks to Aslan, King Lune's hopes come true and Rabadash (though not out of the kindness of his heart) does bring peace between Calormen and Archenland. 

However, our Sages read the story of Ahab otherwise and that understanding challenges Lewis' ending to the story of Rabadash. 

Is King Lune too Kind (Homework)

Tomorrow evening begins the holiday of Shavuot - the time the Torah was given. Hence, I thought it appropriate to suggest some Torah learning for everyone to do. Specifically, please look at chapter 20 of 1 Kings and you may want to think about the following questions:

1) Why was it necessary for the prophet to have been actively harmed before approaching the King of Israel?

2) Why was the person who did not listen to the prophet's command punished so severely?

3) Why did the King of Israel release the King of Aram?

4) Was he right in doing so? If yes, why was he punished?

5) What, if anything, does this teach us about how King Lune should treat Prince Rabadash? How are these stories similar? How are they different?

Feel free to put answers and ideas in the comments. 

PS. My Shavuot class this year will not be Narnian related (they can't all be), but instead I'll be speaking on "A Nation Alone, A Nation Apart," using the blessing of the evil Balaam as the source text. 

Is King Lune too Kind? (Part 1)

King Lune is the king of Archenland during Narnia's Golden Age under the Pevensies. In our first personal encounter with him in The Horse and His Boy, King Lune is described as, "the jolliest, fat, applecheeked, twinkling eyed King you could imagine." King Lune very much lives up to the implications of this description. He is welcoming, gracious, an understanding father, and a king who appears to have one the respect of his people by having respect for them. And, of course, he is kind even to his enemies. 

It is this last characteristic that I would like to examine. Is King Lune very kind, or kind to a fault? We have two situations in which this question arises: in his treatment of the Lord Bar and in his judgment of Prince Rabadash. Let us examine the first situation in this post.

The Lord Bar was King Lune's Lord Chancellor. Presumably the function of the Archenlandish Lord Chancellor was similar to that found in the United Kingdom, to ensure the functioning and administration of the Judiciary. The problem of course, was that the Lord Bar was embezzling funds that were presumably earmarked for the courts. This led to his dismissal, but beyond that, as described by Cor, "Nothing else was done to him and he was allowed to go on living in Archenland."

Was the punishment appropriate or too lenient? 

Well, that he needed to be dismissed is obviously necessary. Such a betrayal of trust of that sort clearly renders someone unfit for office. 

But what sort of sin is embezzling? Clearly it is theft, but it may also be treason?

If the situation was simply theft, we would expect the punishment to be at least to pay back the sums he stole. Biblical law prescribes that the thief pays back double as a type of fine (unless he himself admits that he stole). It would also seem reasonable that the reason for Lord Bar's dismissal was publicly proclaimed so that no one should trust him either. 

Should he have been allowed to continue living in Archenland? Well, simple theft does not seem to warrant exile. People steal for all sorts of reasons and of course we want to leave a door open for the person to repent. 

However, if the embezzling was treasonous, exile would seem to be very appropriate. Was Lord Bar's motives investigated? Was he in the pay of the Tisroc before or only after he was caught stealing? Was he the type of person who would seek and/or have the means to take revenge on the crown? 

These all seem to be relevant and important questions especially for someone who betrayed his office: Lord Bar was in charge of the sources of justice but was very much unjust himself.

Of course, we know what happens. Lord Bar is not exiled and eventually is able to kidnap the crown prince. That this outcome fts Aslan's plans is irrelevant. All outcomes can fit Aslan's plans. But, whether King Lune was too kind is an open question. And one that we can further explore in the next scenario: his treatment of Prince Rabadash, the Crown Prince of Calormen.   

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. 

Coming Soon...

My apologies for not posting recently. I'm trying to put together some non-Narnia related articles (on the formulation of the Friday night kiddush and the symbolism of the Tabernacle). Stay tuned though for thoughts on how the Pevensies would grow up (had they not been killed in a car crash) and also on the following question: is King Lune too kind?

Does Aslan Choose Only the Pevensies?

Our last post ended with a couple of questions attempting to understand the connection between Aslan and Jesus. Specifically, if Aslan's goal was to sensitize the Pevensies towards recognizing Jesus in our world, why not just come out and say so? Why the coyness? A related question is why were only the Pevensie children given this head start in recognizing God - why not others as well? 

The answer to our first question is already addressed by Lewis in The Screwtape Letters. In the eighth letter, Screwtape sets out the balance with which God approaches humans: 

He cannot ravish. He can only woo. For His ignoble idea is to eat the cake and have it; the creatures are to be one with Him, but yet themselves; merely to cancel them, or assimilate them, will not serve. He is prepared to do a little overriding at the beginning...

Aslan's goal is to keep this balance, making his presence known to the Pevensies in Narnia, but not sharing the same intimacy with them, or even revealing his name, in their own world. 

How far is God willing to go in overriding human will?

Well, maybe that depends on the person. I think, and perhaps Lewis would agree, that God makes overtures to every human. How far God then goes, depends on how each individual responds to His initial overtures. The Pevensies were no different than anyone else. However, Aslan reveals himself almost completely to the Pevensies because the Pevensies, and specifically Lucy, desire his revelation.  

As we remember, it was Lucy who first entered the Wardrobe and "discovered" the world of Narnia. Upon noticing she was out of the Wardrobe and into somewhere else she could have turned around and gone back. But, instead, she displayed a sense of curiosity and a willingness to "suspend disbelief" two childlike characteristics that Lewis praises and are fundamental to forming a relationship with God. And, in fact, she maintains "a devotion to experiences" even in the face of doubt and taunting. 

Lucy's siblings, however, are less keen on entering Narnia. Edmund, of course, is swayed by evil so has a desire to make the best of Narnia when he enters. But Peter and Susan at least consider the possibility of leaving everything behind once they discover Tumnus' home is wrecked. And, thus, again we have a moment of truth. Peter and Susan choose to stay and help instead of going home and thus set themselves up for their first direct revelation of Aslan.

And so it goes, at every step the Pevensies could have made the wrong decision and would not have formed as close of a relationship with Aslan. However, they went all the way, and were finally told that their time in Narnia was up, and further relationships with God must take place in their own world.

The Pevensies were given no more of a head start in forming a relationship with God than anyone else. And while it may seem that way, that is only so because they, and specifically Lucy, heard or felt God's overtures made the right decisions at the right times. 

As for the rest of us, perhaps we have missed overtures in our own life. Or maybe we heard them but failed to follow because we were scared or lazy. Maybe we heard God's knock but struggled to get out of bed to answer the door or maybe we were too busy with our smartphones to even hear the knock. Either way, there is no reason to despair (I hope). God continues to send out overtures, He keeps knocking, and that's how we can keep going into adulthood. 

We'll start with Lucy...