I promised a post on life, didn't I.
Well, I'm afraid it will have to get shoved back. I have to collect my thoughts, but something hit me today during American History, and it's been plaguing me the three and a half hours since.
All I'll say is this. It's extremely difficult to listen to the Great Awakening being discussed by a secular teacher and class in this ultra-liberal area. I love these guys. They're great. God made them. Why shouldn't I love them? But I have so much I want to tell them about how Jonathon Edwards was both right and wrong, and I can't in the middle of history class.
But yes. I will tackle Jonathon Edwards next. I realize I'm hardly qualified, but this isn't my thesis, right?
Deus paxque vobiscum.
~Kare.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Sinner
Some of you may recognize the imagine beside this post. You may have read the book yourself. Or have seen its image on a website. Since you're reading this, I would venture a guess that you likely realize that I have borrowed it as my avatar image.Trivial facts, in the end.
After much breathless, nail-biting anticipation since June, when I first came upon its release date and read the excerpt provided in the back of ADAM, I finally found myself with a copy of Ted Dekker's Sinner in my hands.
Picture this: me, a petite California surf chick, sitting in the hairdresser's chair, foil in my hair to enhance the blonde. Black apron covering my jeans and turquoise T-shirt. A Starbucks iced drink with only the ice remaining freezing my right thigh.
And on my lap, Sinner.
I think I startled the hairdresser with my squeal of excitement when Mom re-entered the room, book in hand. We had already had a lengthy discussion about family and funny age misunderstandings, and I highly doubt she was quite ready for the mature, serious, yet playful disposition I have to fall away at the sight of a mere book. Grinning wide, I poured gratitude over my mother even as I was flipping pages. I had already read the first four chapters. I wanted to read the rest!
And so I threw myself into the world of Sinner, into the universe of the Books of History, Johnny Drake, Billy Rediger, and Darcy Lange. And Black. Marsuvees Black.
Two and a half hours later, the tale had finished, leaving me to slowly return to reality.
The reality of our world. Which isn't so different from that of Sinner.
[*SPOILER WARNING*]
Imagine. The year is 2033. Thirteen years after Project Showdown. A year after the emergence of Saint, and the rebirth of Johnny Drake. Tolerance is the new religion of the United States of America. To speak of your religion is akin to speaking of moles located in indiscreet places. Not forbidden, but sure to earn you askance looks and strange faces. None except certain officials in the government know of the events that brought Johnny Drake back into the world and drove him into hiding in the desert.
Not even his siblings in the power. The power of the Books of History. Billy Rediger, and Darcy Lange.
All three are equipped with power terrifying in its possibilities.
By the middle of the book, the First Amendment has been rewritten to forbid "hate speech" against other races or religions. Forbidding one from claiming that his or her path is the only true source of enlightenment, and the only path to God and Heaven.
Rewritten to freeze the tongues of Christians.
By the end, Paradise has seen the fulfillment of a showdown that the rest of the world remains clueless about. All they know is that three thousand diehards joined a man named Johnny Drake, and the town was bombed as a result. No casualties, bar one.
No one knows the truth.
[*END SPOILERS*]
I won't say more. Read it for yourself. I'm still trembling. The book was gripping for the story. But I think what sets a buzz through my fingers is how probable Dekker's portrait of a not-too-distant America is.
Tolerance has already makes its apperance in our country. It is already seeping into our culture, winding its tendrils around the hearts and minds of those in positions of authority. We see it every day. Children told not to pray in school, for fear of offending those of another belief system. Christian business owners being sued for refusing to photograph a lesbian couple's wedding, because of the "intolerant attitude" behind their decision.
My tongue...is tied. God, free it!
The need to take a stand has been highlighted by certain circles for some years now. The instution of See You At the Pole, for example. Christian school children gathering around the flagpole, in front of their entire school.
In the name of tolerance, the school board cannot deny them it.
In the name of tolerance, it could very well be banned.
Light in the midst of darkness. Tolerance, like the Raison Strain, like Marsuvees Black itself, is a disease that is darkness at its very core. Hate speech is never okay. Jesus said himself to love.
But love sometimes requires telling someone a painful truth that can be misconstrued as hate. Tolerance is not love. It's the state of the lukewarm. When one is slave to tolerance, what is left? How can you speak out against murder, stealing, and rape? For all you know, the purpetrator might have formed his own religion around what you consider vices. In the name of tolerance, how can you then condemn him? It is the path of the middle ground. Of plastic smiles and falsified laughter.
Tolerance has been disguised as love to cover its hate and true purpose. But love is supposed to free. Tolerance enchains.
Christ is love. He is also the Way, the Truth, and the Life. He is God. Messiah. Rabbi. Abba.
He is the exclusive inclusive. Exclusive, because only He is Truth and the Path. Inclusive, because all can come and know his Life.
Satan, like Black, knows the power of light and love. He knows the power of truth. For only God and the angels know how long, he has been fighting this war. The battle is already lost. Satan's tactic now is to see how much of a narrow victory he can make it. How many of God's precious children, lovingly, carefully formed and nurtured, he can steal away before the Judgement Day.
Tolerance is already strangling our tongues. Soon, if left unattended, it will murder our freedom and try to kill our light.
Darkness tempted Paradise, and it fell. Only to rise as a Kingdom of Light.
A Kingdom of God.
Johnny, Billy, Darcy.
Faith, Hope, and Love.
Welcome to Paradise. To Light. To Love. To tongues unhindered by tolerance.
To a world where nothing is as it seems.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Midnight Musings
The clock that stares at me every time I move my cursor to the bottom of the screen now reads 11:45. If I was smart, I would be in bed. I can. Mom said I can't sleep in (that being past nine.) Yet, despite all wisdom and counsel, I sit here, chatting with a friend in Singapore and writing this post.
Yes, I realize it's been almost four months since I last posted. I'll come on here to post, but then my muse will flee and I will be left staring at a blank screen. And then closing the tab and moving on to something else.
But I digress. The faithful among you didn't come to hear me ramble. If you wanted that, you could just chat with me for awhile over Google Talk or MSN. Provided I'm not feeling lazy that day and have decided to log on.
My life recently can be characterized by one simple phrase: Taking it all in stride.
For instance. We've been trying to sell out house and move back to California. The hope had been that we would be out our personal rain forest and back into the sun by mid July. Which turned into late July. Early August. Mid August. And now the deadline is the beginning of school. A week from today. It makes things difficult, not knowing. We don't know whether to buy this or that. To take a vacation. Sign up for more classes. Heck, I don't even know if I should be excited about a school year here or in California, yet. Though I think the worst side effect is the fact that our house has to be spotless every time we leave. And as we've had an extremely busy schedule, neither Mom nor I have felt like making a proper breakfast, because of the dishes.
I am so sick of cereal and protein shakes, you have no idea.
It's a real lesson in patience. I thought I was easy going before. Now... I don't have a choice. Complaining won't help any. All I can do it kick back and hold a Tevye-style conversation with God. See here:
Me: "God, it'd be kinda nice to let us in on the plan once in a while, you know? So we can eat. Get excited. Know if I'll be able to go to my cousin's sweet sixteen, or the other's wedding?"
God: "Wait and see."
Me: "I know. You've said. Not even a hint? A teeny tiny one? A date, maybe?"
God: *chuckles* "Wait and see."
What else can I do, but kick back and wait and see.
Still, God. Just a hint?
But this is what life is about. Waiting to see what God throws at us next. He's an author, so I can understand it. We're his characters. He knows our personalities, what we can and will do, but he doesn't force us into a mold. Instead, he tosses villains and obstacles at us so we can act out this story called life.
If this doesn't make sense... Sue me. Though I depleted my bank account on books, so I don't know how much good that will do you.
My point here is --did I even have one?-- that it's a waiting game. Our hands are tied. Nothing we can do will make the future come any sooner.
Why worry about tomorrow? If God, who created something as amazingly complex as the human body, who cares for the sparrows and dresses Creation in such marvelous beauty cares for even the least of his works, we can be certain he will do the same and more for us. His kids.
Matthew 6, right there.
I should go to bed before I tire the rest of you out. Next time, I promise a solid post. On a miracle we know as life. It's been captivating me, lately.
Until then, though, my fellow inmates in the psychiatric ward of the world, adieu.
Yes, I realize it's been almost four months since I last posted. I'll come on here to post, but then my muse will flee and I will be left staring at a blank screen. And then closing the tab and moving on to something else.
But I digress. The faithful among you didn't come to hear me ramble. If you wanted that, you could just chat with me for awhile over Google Talk or MSN. Provided I'm not feeling lazy that day and have decided to log on.
My life recently can be characterized by one simple phrase: Taking it all in stride.
For instance. We've been trying to sell out house and move back to California. The hope had been that we would be out our personal rain forest and back into the sun by mid July. Which turned into late July. Early August. Mid August. And now the deadline is the beginning of school. A week from today. It makes things difficult, not knowing. We don't know whether to buy this or that. To take a vacation. Sign up for more classes. Heck, I don't even know if I should be excited about a school year here or in California, yet. Though I think the worst side effect is the fact that our house has to be spotless every time we leave. And as we've had an extremely busy schedule, neither Mom nor I have felt like making a proper breakfast, because of the dishes.
I am so sick of cereal and protein shakes, you have no idea.
It's a real lesson in patience. I thought I was easy going before. Now... I don't have a choice. Complaining won't help any. All I can do it kick back and hold a Tevye-style conversation with God. See here:
Me: "God, it'd be kinda nice to let us in on the plan once in a while, you know? So we can eat. Get excited. Know if I'll be able to go to my cousin's sweet sixteen, or the other's wedding?"
God: "Wait and see."
Me: "I know. You've said. Not even a hint? A teeny tiny one? A date, maybe?"
God: *chuckles* "Wait and see."
What else can I do, but kick back and wait and see.
Still, God. Just a hint?
But this is what life is about. Waiting to see what God throws at us next. He's an author, so I can understand it. We're his characters. He knows our personalities, what we can and will do, but he doesn't force us into a mold. Instead, he tosses villains and obstacles at us so we can act out this story called life.
If this doesn't make sense... Sue me. Though I depleted my bank account on books, so I don't know how much good that will do you.
My point here is --did I even have one?-- that it's a waiting game. Our hands are tied. Nothing we can do will make the future come any sooner.
Why worry about tomorrow? If God, who created something as amazingly complex as the human body, who cares for the sparrows and dresses Creation in such marvelous beauty cares for even the least of his works, we can be certain he will do the same and more for us. His kids.
Matthew 6, right there.
I should go to bed before I tire the rest of you out. Next time, I promise a solid post. On a miracle we know as life. It's been captivating me, lately.
Until then, though, my fellow inmates in the psychiatric ward of the world, adieu.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
But the Greatest of These is Love
Some of you may see this on the board it was originally posted on. But for those who might not, I'll post it here.
The following appears on Dragonsinourmidst.com/forums::
--------------
I just came out of a time quite a bit like what you just described. I did a discipleship program with my youth group, and it was absolutely awesome, but at its end, I felt...empty. Stagnant. I was sick and tired of all the protocol, and I wanted something fresh. I had done it all, had been doing it all, and there was nothing.
So, I decided to rebel against religion. No, not against God; two different things. But against religion. Against the stuffy dos and don'ts. Against the box that religion pushes us into. I'm a Romantic; I like doing things the unconventional way. And I want to literally fall head over heels in love with God. One of the reasons why I love the Circle Trilogy so much is because they let me glimpse that Love. That perfect, ever fulfilling Love.
Finally, after two weeks, I picked back up my Bible; actually, I lifted the brand new one I had received just that day after it was presented to me in church, for completing the discipleship course. And I went to where I had last stopped reading in the Old Testament, and just started to read.
My goal? To read out of the Bible, for the first time, the indescribable Love and Beauty that I know is there. God wrote it; how can it not be there?
And I've found it. And I've never been so excited about reading the Word.
I was feeling hypocritical too. I had just finished a discipleship course, for goodness sake. And now I'm feeling like this?
But that emptiness, that lack of peace; it's gone. Because I've found Love. And man, it's good, baby. Because only God is good.
My advice? Don't try to fit a mold. Make it your own. We don't experience friendship in the same way as everyone else. Why do we seem to think if we do this, this, and that, we'll experience God in a fresh way? We won't. All we'll get is lukewarm water, and I want it hot.
Seek Love, and seek God. Everything else springs from there.
Now, when I say do away with the mold, I'm not talking about dispensing with the Law, which is good when used properly. I'm talking about not trying to do as the Pharisees did it, but rather as the Rich Man who approached the wall and gave a simple, genuine prayer.
Love, baby. That's what matters.
"And the world will know you are my disciples if you Love one another."
----------------
Right now I'm reading 1 Kings. Before, when I read the OT, God had always seemed aloof. Which didn't make any sense, because he's God. He's the Same Yesterday, Today, and Forever, and God is a God of Love, of Grace, of Justice and of Truth. He's the God of Mercy. The God of Hope.
And, honestly, that wasn't what I was seeing.
But now I get it. It's like Proverbs 3 says, "The LORD corrects the one whom He loves, as a father the son he delights in."
Why did God punish David for his sin with Bathsheba and the following murder? Because he loved him. God's our father; he won't let us get away with doing wrong for the very reason that he Loves us.
That's why the Israelites were oppressed, time and time again. Because of Love.
And it was because of Love for his people that God saw fit to remove those who would be bad examples. Just as earthly parents keep you from hangin' with those who would have a negative influence.
Love.
Elyon's Strength, et Deus paxque vobiscum.
The following appears on Dragonsinourmidst.com/forums::
--------------
I just came out of a time quite a bit like what you just described. I did a discipleship program with my youth group, and it was absolutely awesome, but at its end, I felt...empty. Stagnant. I was sick and tired of all the protocol, and I wanted something fresh. I had done it all, had been doing it all, and there was nothing.
So, I decided to rebel against religion. No, not against God; two different things. But against religion. Against the stuffy dos and don'ts. Against the box that religion pushes us into. I'm a Romantic; I like doing things the unconventional way. And I want to literally fall head over heels in love with God. One of the reasons why I love the Circle Trilogy so much is because they let me glimpse that Love. That perfect, ever fulfilling Love.
Finally, after two weeks, I picked back up my Bible; actually, I lifted the brand new one I had received just that day after it was presented to me in church, for completing the discipleship course. And I went to where I had last stopped reading in the Old Testament, and just started to read.
My goal? To read out of the Bible, for the first time, the indescribable Love and Beauty that I know is there. God wrote it; how can it not be there?
And I've found it. And I've never been so excited about reading the Word.
I was feeling hypocritical too. I had just finished a discipleship course, for goodness sake. And now I'm feeling like this?
But that emptiness, that lack of peace; it's gone. Because I've found Love. And man, it's good, baby. Because only God is good.
My advice? Don't try to fit a mold. Make it your own. We don't experience friendship in the same way as everyone else. Why do we seem to think if we do this, this, and that, we'll experience God in a fresh way? We won't. All we'll get is lukewarm water, and I want it hot.
Seek Love, and seek God. Everything else springs from there.
Now, when I say do away with the mold, I'm not talking about dispensing with the Law, which is good when used properly. I'm talking about not trying to do as the Pharisees did it, but rather as the Rich Man who approached the wall and gave a simple, genuine prayer.
Love, baby. That's what matters.
"And the world will know you are my disciples if you Love one another."
----------------
Right now I'm reading 1 Kings. Before, when I read the OT, God had always seemed aloof. Which didn't make any sense, because he's God. He's the Same Yesterday, Today, and Forever, and God is a God of Love, of Grace, of Justice and of Truth. He's the God of Mercy. The God of Hope.
And, honestly, that wasn't what I was seeing.
But now I get it. It's like Proverbs 3 says, "The LORD corrects the one whom He loves, as a father the son he delights in."
Why did God punish David for his sin with Bathsheba and the following murder? Because he loved him. God's our father; he won't let us get away with doing wrong for the very reason that he Loves us.
That's why the Israelites were oppressed, time and time again. Because of Love.
And it was because of Love for his people that God saw fit to remove those who would be bad examples. Just as earthly parents keep you from hangin' with those who would have a negative influence.
Love.
Elyon's Strength, et Deus paxque vobiscum.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Grace Juice, Baby.
Born of Black and White.
Eaten with worms.
I'm a Saint, a Sinner, a Siren of the Word.
The Circle knows me,
the rest just wanna trip on grace juice, baby!
Showdown at midnight.
You wanna trip?
My mind is swirling. Why? I finished Renegade, the third book of the Lost Books of History by Dekker earlier (I read Chaos yesterday. They didn't get here in order, which is why I didn't read them in order).
Wow.
You wanna trip?
Renegade and Chaos, like Chosen and Infidel, were everything I had hoped for and more. Black, Red, White, Showdown, Saint, even Skin and House, all entwined in this web of story birthed from the mind of Ted Dekker.
Wow.
I'm fairly giddy.
And, while I'm away in my little "la la" land, my room suffers for it.
I'm in the process of moving to the room in the basement that has been "mine" for some time now, I just never got to move down there. We're remedying that, but right now, the room I share with my sister looks as if Hurricane Katrina's twin sister landed here and tore the place up. I've got books scattered absolutely everywhere, have papers and textbooks and my wallet and a laptop strewn across my desk, a huge pile of clothes in a basket and spilling out over the floor, and for the past three nights I've slept with my feet shrouded in a blanket made up of a binder and more books.
Oh, not to mention the Barnes and Noble.com receipts.
I'm not sure I can really function in such a war zone, but at the same time, I love it. It's me. This melting pot of everything.
Now I'm giggling.
You wanna trip?
The indescribable beauty of Love...of the Great Romance.
Dekker gets me every time, without fail. I see threads of it throughout every single book of his.
And I blame Dekker for the reason I'm now a sap. Ah well.
I want to inhale Elyon's waters. I want to drown, and live.
You wanna trip?
I do. I so do.
I believe!! I believe!!
I grin like an idiot when I see Samuel or Elyon or Justin. I want to dance like Caleb, drown like Thomas, breathe like Billos. Love like Johnis and Silvie.
You wanna trip?
Hallelujah, Amen, you're dismissed.
And now, to return to this reality and tackle my Algebra homework.
Eaten with worms.
I'm a Saint, a Sinner, a Siren of the Word.
The Circle knows me,
the rest just wanna trip on grace juice, baby!
Showdown at midnight.
You wanna trip?
My mind is swirling. Why? I finished Renegade, the third book of the Lost Books of History by Dekker earlier (I read Chaos yesterday. They didn't get here in order, which is why I didn't read them in order).
Wow.
You wanna trip?
Renegade and Chaos, like Chosen and Infidel, were everything I had hoped for and more. Black, Red, White, Showdown, Saint, even Skin and House, all entwined in this web of story birthed from the mind of Ted Dekker.
Wow.
I'm fairly giddy.
And, while I'm away in my little "la la" land, my room suffers for it.
I'm in the process of moving to the room in the basement that has been "mine" for some time now, I just never got to move down there. We're remedying that, but right now, the room I share with my sister looks as if Hurricane Katrina's twin sister landed here and tore the place up. I've got books scattered absolutely everywhere, have papers and textbooks and my wallet and a laptop strewn across my desk, a huge pile of clothes in a basket and spilling out over the floor, and for the past three nights I've slept with my feet shrouded in a blanket made up of a binder and more books.
Oh, not to mention the Barnes and Noble.com receipts.
I'm not sure I can really function in such a war zone, but at the same time, I love it. It's me. This melting pot of everything.
Now I'm giggling.
You wanna trip?
The indescribable beauty of Love...of the Great Romance.
Dekker gets me every time, without fail. I see threads of it throughout every single book of his.
And I blame Dekker for the reason I'm now a sap. Ah well.
I want to inhale Elyon's waters. I want to drown, and live.
You wanna trip?
I do. I so do.
I believe!! I believe!!
I grin like an idiot when I see Samuel or Elyon or Justin. I want to dance like Caleb, drown like Thomas, breathe like Billos. Love like Johnis and Silvie.
You wanna trip?
Hallelujah, Amen, you're dismissed.
And now, to return to this reality and tackle my Algebra homework.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The Lion Angel
As is obvious from my list of favorite books and the images along the sidebar of my blog, I am a fantasy addict. Most fantasy I will devour (along with science fiction. Mind you, not all; there are certain fantasy series where I honestly begin to feel a bit sick. They can be wonderfully written and have fantastic plots, but after the third sex scene, or the third time when I've tried to skip ahead only to find a different couple making out, I can't stomach it any more.) Included in those lists are the cult classics of the fantasy genre: The Lord of the Rings, and the Chronicles of Narnia.
The Lord of the Rings, I love for the imagery and the intricacy of the plot. Even before I saw the movies, I could see the tall majestic trees of Lothlorien, hear Aragorn's soft humming, and taste the lembas gifted to the Fellowship. I study Tolkien's devices, spending long hours pondering how I can apply the same techniques to give my own story-world the same depth.
But right now I want to focus on its sister series, written by Tolkien's friend and fellow Oxfordian, C.S. Lewis. With the arrival of Prince Caspian swiftly drawing near, the magical realm of Narnia has again been beckoned to my thoughts; I've watched The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe twice in the past two weeks.
When I was younger, The Chronicles of Narnia won, hands down. Four kids, one of them my age at the time (Lucy, if you're wondering), whisked off to another world of fauns and dryads, centaurs, haunting songs and parties lasting long into the early hours. Where four children are crowned kings and queens. King Peter, the Majestic. Queen Susan, the Gentle. King Edmund, the Just. Queen Lucy, the Valiant.
What kid doesn't want to kneel before their liege lord and find themselves ruler of such a glorious kingdom?
Even now, the thought brings a beaming smile to my face and causes my pulse to quicken. I'll admit it here: I want to go to Narnia. I want to meet Tumnus, and journey with Caspian to Aslan's Country. To see the great Lion, O, how wonderful!
Of course, I already know the King of the Wood. Aslan does not only exist in Narnia; no, as he told the Pevensies to do as they left Narnia after the battle
against Miraz and the Telemarines, we can find him in our world as well.
The similarities between Aslan and my King continue to steal my breath. And that's no exaggeration. Especially when I remember that the director and producers of the blockbuster film version aren't Christian.
Let's review some of the parallels we see in just the movie version. I'll start with the more obvious ones.
King of the Wood, the True King of Narnia: Christ is the King of Kings, as we know from Isaiah. And like I said, I'm starting with the obvious ones.
His omniscience. In Tumnus' cave, in the movie, after Tumnus has lured Lucy to sleep out of the flames Aslan appears. Even then, he knew, and was watching out for Lucy; Tumnus stops playing and is hammered with guilt.
His Sacrifice.
This one I still love. I can't count the number of times I've read the books, and I've seen the newest Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe about ten times, but I still love it. Edmund is the most despicable of traitors. His family he has left behind, and even when the Witch's true self is revealed, he continues to feed her information. When he returns to his brother and sisters, a dark truth is revealed: Edmund must die. Or all of Narnia will perish.
We all know where the story goes after this. The Witch comes, claims him as is her right, and Aslan takes her aside and makes a deal. That night, Susan and Lucy accompany him to the Stone Table, where they witness the brutal killing of the one who was supposed to save them.
The Witch leaves to battle their brothers, and the sisters approach the cooling body that was once Aslan. Not a bone of his was broken, but he was pierced for Edmund's transgressions.
Dawn comes. The girls go to leave, and suddenly a tremendous cracking is hear; they turn to find the Stone Table upon which Aslan was killed broken in half, and Aslan missing. Then they see it; the rising of the sun, and the Lion appears, hale and very much alive. He tells of the Deeper Magic, which goes beyond the Deep Magic of Justice that the Witch knew.
Here I'll pause and just draw a few parallels that most of you have probably already grasped. The Stone Table and the Deep Magic represent the Law and the old covenant of blood and sacrifice. Without sacrifice, there was only death. Then, taking the place of all, Jesus came and died.
"When an innocent dies in place of one who is guilty, the Stone Table will crack, and death itself will be undone."
So it was with Christ. (I'm starting to think I should have posted this on Easter. Oh well.)
The story continues. Aslan sets free those previously turned to stone by the Witch, included the much beloved Tumnus. Then they hurry to the battle, where things have just taken a drastic turn for the worse. Already vastly outnumbered, Peter is locked in a battle with the Witch herself, and Edmund has been mortally wounded. Oreius has been turned to stone, the gryphons killed, and all around the True Narnians are falling.
Then Aslan arrives. All are stunned; "Impossible," the Witch breathes. As the army the Lion has brought with him engages the forces of Jadis, he throws the Witch the ground. With Peter looking on, he finishes her, and turns to the boy who will be High King. Makes eye contact. And tells him,
"It is finished."
For some reason, it took me watching the movie ten times to realize what he says here.
It is finished.
The same words Christ used on the cross, when he defeated the Predator (Gotta love dragon-boy) once and for all. Aslan has just killed the Witch.
I got chills.
C.S. Lewis had done a masterful job of portraying the Lion. And Andrew Adamson, with his staying true to both the books, and by adding little pieces that merely enhance Aslan's character, has done just as well.
As the years pass, my reasons for things change. Yes, I am still in love with the idea of journeying to another world. But more and more, I appreciate and stand in awe of how God works his hand, even in something like a fantasy novel.
"Remember, he's not a tame lion."
"No. But he is good."
God cannot be tamed. But he, and He alone, is good. His grace goes beyond my every failing, my ever mistake and moment of clumsiness. When I stumble, his grace and love are there to pick me up.
Yet his justice is swift, and his Truth the only truth.
Deus paxque vobiscum.
The Lord of the Rings, I love for the imagery and the intricacy of the plot. Even before I saw the movies, I could see the tall majestic trees of Lothlorien, hear Aragorn's soft humming, and taste the lembas gifted to the Fellowship. I study Tolkien's devices, spending long hours pondering how I can apply the same techniques to give my own story-world the same depth.
But right now I want to focus on its sister series, written by Tolkien's friend and fellow Oxfordian, C.S. Lewis. With the arrival of Prince Caspian swiftly drawing near, the magical realm of Narnia has again been beckoned to my thoughts; I've watched The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe twice in the past two weeks.
When I was younger, The Chronicles of Narnia won, hands down. Four kids, one of them my age at the time (Lucy, if you're wondering), whisked off to another world of fauns and dryads, centaurs, haunting songs and parties lasting long into the early hours. Where four children are crowned kings and queens. King Peter, the Majestic. Queen Susan, the Gentle. King Edmund, the Just. Queen Lucy, the Valiant.
What kid doesn't want to kneel before their liege lord and find themselves ruler of such a glorious kingdom?
Even now, the thought brings a beaming smile to my face and causes my pulse to quicken. I'll admit it here: I want to go to Narnia. I want to meet Tumnus, and journey with Caspian to Aslan's Country. To see the great Lion, O, how wonderful!
Of course, I already know the King of the Wood. Aslan does not only exist in Narnia; no, as he told the Pevensies to do as they left Narnia after the battle
against Miraz and the Telemarines, we can find him in our world as well.The similarities between Aslan and my King continue to steal my breath. And that's no exaggeration. Especially when I remember that the director and producers of the blockbuster film version aren't Christian.
Let's review some of the parallels we see in just the movie version. I'll start with the more obvious ones.
King of the Wood, the True King of Narnia: Christ is the King of Kings, as we know from Isaiah. And like I said, I'm starting with the obvious ones.
His omniscience. In Tumnus' cave, in the movie, after Tumnus has lured Lucy to sleep out of the flames Aslan appears. Even then, he knew, and was watching out for Lucy; Tumnus stops playing and is hammered with guilt.
His Sacrifice.
This one I still love. I can't count the number of times I've read the books, and I've seen the newest Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe about ten times, but I still love it. Edmund is the most despicable of traitors. His family he has left behind, and even when the Witch's true self is revealed, he continues to feed her information. When he returns to his brother and sisters, a dark truth is revealed: Edmund must die. Or all of Narnia will perish.
We all know where the story goes after this. The Witch comes, claims him as is her right, and Aslan takes her aside and makes a deal. That night, Susan and Lucy accompany him to the Stone Table, where they witness the brutal killing of the one who was supposed to save them.
The Witch leaves to battle their brothers, and the sisters approach the cooling body that was once Aslan. Not a bone of his was broken, but he was pierced for Edmund's transgressions.
Dawn comes. The girls go to leave, and suddenly a tremendous cracking is hear; they turn to find the Stone Table upon which Aslan was killed broken in half, and Aslan missing. Then they see it; the rising of the sun, and the Lion appears, hale and very much alive. He tells of the Deeper Magic, which goes beyond the Deep Magic of Justice that the Witch knew.
Here I'll pause and just draw a few parallels that most of you have probably already grasped. The Stone Table and the Deep Magic represent the Law and the old covenant of blood and sacrifice. Without sacrifice, there was only death. Then, taking the place of all, Jesus came and died.
"When an innocent dies in place of one who is guilty, the Stone Table will crack, and death itself will be undone."
So it was with Christ. (I'm starting to think I should have posted this on Easter. Oh well.)
The story continues. Aslan sets free those previously turned to stone by the Witch, included the much beloved Tumnus. Then they hurry to the battle, where things have just taken a drastic turn for the worse. Already vastly outnumbered, Peter is locked in a battle with the Witch herself, and Edmund has been mortally wounded. Oreius has been turned to stone, the gryphons killed, and all around the True Narnians are falling.
Then Aslan arrives. All are stunned; "Impossible," the Witch breathes. As the army the Lion has brought with him engages the forces of Jadis, he throws the Witch the ground. With Peter looking on, he finishes her, and turns to the boy who will be High King. Makes eye contact. And tells him,
"It is finished."
For some reason, it took me watching the movie ten times to realize what he says here.
It is finished.
The same words Christ used on the cross, when he defeated the Predator (Gotta love dragon-boy) once and for all. Aslan has just killed the Witch.
I got chills.
C.S. Lewis had done a masterful job of portraying the Lion. And Andrew Adamson, with his staying true to both the books, and by adding little pieces that merely enhance Aslan's character, has done just as well.
As the years pass, my reasons for things change. Yes, I am still in love with the idea of journeying to another world. But more and more, I appreciate and stand in awe of how God works his hand, even in something like a fantasy novel.
"Remember, he's not a tame lion."
"No. But he is good."
God cannot be tamed. But he, and He alone, is good. His grace goes beyond my every failing, my ever mistake and moment of clumsiness. When I stumble, his grace and love are there to pick me up.
Yet his justice is swift, and his Truth the only truth.
Deus paxque vobiscum.
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