Faith in the Fog

In my last post I linked to a speech about C.S. Lewis. Here is a short essay that offers insight into one of his books in "The Chronicles of Narnia." It was sent to me by Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

Faith in the Fog
Jill Carattini

Trapped beneath the surface of Narnia, the children of C.S. Lewis's The Silver Chair engage in a most frustrating conversation with the witch, the queen of what is called Underland. The children try desperately to describe to the queen the scenes and certainties of Narnia; they speak of the sun and the moon, of the stars—and of Aslan. The witch responds with the cunning deconstructionism of a postmodern wordsmith.

"What is this sun that you all speak of?" she asks. "Do you mean anything by the word? And Aslan, what a pretty name! What does it mean?" Struggling with the weight of what feels like an enchanted fog over their minds (and is), the children try their best to explain. "The sun is like a lamp, only far greater and brighter…" And of Aslan: "He is a lion—the great Lion… a little bit like a huge cat, with a mane." To this the witch counters with the sweetest of laughs, "You see? You have seen lamps, and so you imagined a bigger and better lamp and called it the sun. You've seen cats, and now you want a bigger and better cat, and it's to be called a lion… Look how you can put nothing into your make-believe without copying it from the real world… Put away these childish tricks… There is no Narnia, no sky, no sun, no Aslan."(1)

I don't believe it is too bold to say (and neither did Lewis) that life as a Christian sometimes feels something quite like this. Amidst the fog of a world that sees moral confusion and bewilderment and recognizes it as freedom, it can become quite exhausting to find the right words to explain that which we know to be true, only to be told that our words have no meaning. "Truth," "sin," and "God" are matters of utmost consequence all too often being condensed into word games. It has never been more difficult, nor more important, to be able to defend your faith.

But perhaps the Christian life is like this Narnian scene in another way. The less the children struggled to hold on to the reality of Narnia and memories of Aslan's goodness, the more reasonable the queen's explanations seemed to become: "Well, 'tis a pretty make-believe, but to say truth, it would suit you all better if you were younger."

As Christians living within a world that bombards us with reasons not to believe, with reasons to accept half-truths as truth, and sin as mere psychosis, it is an active task to remain thinking, to keep our hearts and minds continually renewed by God's Word. It is necessary to recall his faithfulness in our lives, to hold before us the promises He has made, to daily keep our eyes sensitive to his presence. For God has called us to worship Him in spirit and in truth.

In the words of Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush aflame with God.
But only he who sees takes off his shoes.
The rest sit 'round and pluck blackberries.

The light of the knowledge of the glory of God, seen in the face of Christ, actively proclaimed in our lives, continually pursued and held before us, pierces through the fog of sin and death and falsehood. It is light that cannot be overcome, and we must look to it. "I am the light of the world," Jesus proclaimed. "Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life"(John 8:12). Let us be encouraged even in the fog of life, for the light of Christ cannot be extinguished. All who have eyes to see, let us see.

(1) C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair (New York: Collier, 1970), 157.