ALWAYS WINTER AND NEVER CHRISTMAS—Romans 8:19-21 and other texts
(all Bible quotations are from the New International Version)
Oxford, England, September 18, 1931. Two brilliant young professors walk in the darkness until 3:00 a.m. Jack and Tollers have become fast friends, drawn together by their love for obscure philosophers and ancient myths and fairy tales. But tonight, Jack is not talking about literature; he is desperately looking for answers to his doubts. He has recently given his life to God, in his own words “the most dejected and reluctant convert in all of England,” but he struggles to believe the most basic truths of the Gospel. His friend Tollers is a Christian, but instead of quoting Scripture or arguing philosophy, he begins to talk about the stories they both love so much. Tollers says that in every great story, there is something good and deep—something that points to the best and deepest story—The Real Story—God’s story of salvation through Jesus Christ.
I don’t know whether you like to think of the Gospel as a story. Maybe you prefer doctrine and truth-statements that can be dissected and analyzed. After all, Peter says, “We did not follow cleverly invented stories when we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.” (2 Peter 1:16) Yet the Bible is at its root a story, not “cleverly invented” but true—a story of God and people, of good and evil, of betrayal and forgiveness, of frustration and redemption. It is a story that is not only true to the facts, but true to life—mysterious yet down-to-earth. It is a story that is simple enough for children, yet deep enough to address our deepest needs.
That September walk was a breakthrough for Jack, and two weeks later he told a friend that his doubts were no longer holding him back from his commitment to follow Christ. He told his friend Tollers that the world needed more stories that would point to The Real Story. Tollers, best known as J.R.R. Tolkien, went on to write the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Jack, who wrote as C.S. Lewis, wrote literary essays and philosophy and apologetics. He didn’t get around to writing his best stories until much later in life, and when he did his stories were written for children and for those “old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” I was “old enough” to read The Chronicles of Narnia in college, and they had a huge impact on my faith.
Now Disney is betting $180 million that children and grownups will go to see one of those stories of Narnia in movie form. You should see the movie for yourself. Many of your non-Christian friends and neighbors will see the movie, and you should talk with them about it, and invite them to come to church next Sunday as we talk about Jack’s most difficult question that night, “I simply don’t understand how the life and death of Someone Else (whoever he was) 2000 years ago can help us here and now.”
But this is not a commercial for a movie. Whether you choose to see the movie or not, I want to talk to you today about some parts of The Real Story that maybe you haven’t thought about lately.
If you were going to write a story, how would it begin? Most of the world’s greatest stories begin with a painful reality: Things are not as they should be. Cinderella has a wicked stepmother and stepsisters. Sleeping Beauty has been cursed by a disgruntled old fairy. Hansel and Gretel are driven by starvation to the house of a wicked witch. Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother has been killed by the Big Bad Wolf. Snow White (in the original version) has a jealous mother who hires a hit man to kill her daughter.
Why do the greatest stories begin like that? The world is not as it should be. There are tsunamis and hurricanes, war and starvation, earthquakes and pollution. Marriages fall apart, children quarrel, politicians lie, and people we trust betray us. The world is not as it should be. The Bible describes it like this: “The creation was subjected to frustration…[in] bondage to decay…” (Romans 8:20-21) We can see it everywhere we look.
In C.S. Lewis’ story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the world is not as it should be. World War II is in full swing, and 4 children have been sent to the country to escape the daily Nazi air raids on London. The world is not as it should be. Magically, the children enter another world—a wonderful world called Narnia, where animals talk and trees are friendly and magic happens. But even Narnia is not as it should be. It is winter in Narnia, cold and desolate. It is always winter in Narnia—and never Christmas! And in the winter of Narnia, the animals are afraid to talk out loud, the trees are stark and barren, and the magic is dark and dangerous.
How did Narnia become so cold? There’s a witch in the story—there has to be a witch—an evil, lying witch, because the real story says, “…the whole world is under the control of the evil one” (1 John 5:19) and, “Satan masquerades as an angel of light.” (2 Cor. 11:14) and, “there is no truth in [the devil]. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” (John 8:44) The witch in Narnia is a White Witch, tall, thin, and beautiful like a fashion model, who calls herself the Queen of Narnia. She’s not the queen of course, and her whiteness is not the whiteness of purity, but the paleness of death. She promises a better life, but her castle is decorated by the stone statues of people who believed her lies.
Narnia is not as it should be. But that’s not the worst part of the story. The four children, “sons of Adam and children of Eve,” are not as they should be.
Edmund, the youngest boy to enter Narnia, is the first to meet the Witch. She feeds him candy—Turkish Delight. She promises to make the little boy who never got any respect the prince of Narnia. And she tells him that he can have all the Turkish Delight he wants and be the prince only if he brings his brother and sisters to her castle. It’s all lies, of course, and if he were thinking clearly he would see how wrong and foolish it would be to betray his brother and sisters for Turkish Delight and a promise of power. So why does he do it?
Why, indeed? Why do people choose evil over good? Is the Turkish Delight so delectable—or the money, the toys, the power, the thrills, the lust so delicious? Have the lies convinced them: that evil is good, and good is evil? Or did it begin long before, in their anger or pain or self-centeredness? The Real Story says that “each person is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.” (James 1:14-15) We see all those things in Edmund: he wants the candy, he believes the lies, he wants to get back at his brother for calling him a “beast.” Perhaps we see some of those same things in ourselves: the evil desire, the confusion, the weakness.
Edmund believes the lies of the White Witch, and betrays his brother and sisters. This creates problems for him, as he soon discovers that life with the White Witch is not nearly as wonderful as he thought it would be. It is a problem for all four children, whose lives are now in danger. But it is also a problem for Narnia, for by some deep magic Narnia can only be made right when four “sons of Adam and daughters of Eve” sit on the ancient thrones of Cair Paravel. The fate of Narnia is tied to the fate of four children—four children who are not as they should be.
Now that is a strange magic, and nearly impossible to explain. It is a magic I have often wished I could explain—for it is a “magic” that extends to life on the planet we call Earth. What do you say when 85,000 people die in an earthquake? What do you say to the parents who have lost a child to cancer? What do you say when the bad people win, and life is so unfair? It’s a mystery, almost like “magic.” The world is not as it should be—that’s obvious. But the mystery is that the world can never be right until the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve are as they should be. The Apostle Paul puts it this way: “The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.“ (Romans 8:19-21)
And that is the root of the problem: The only hope for the world is that somehow the sons and daughters of Eve will finally be as they should be! And we don’t seem to be able to make ourselves right! It’s a problem we can’t solve—a problem only God can solve. The Apostle Paul says, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25)
How God solved that problem will have to wait until next week. If I told you about how Jesus died and rose from the dead to make the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve right, I could probably not resist telling you what Aslan the lion did to make the children right and to make Narnia right—and that would spoil the story for you.
So I will end today in the middle of the story—in the part of the story where we so often live. I want to end with a question—a practical question for people who are still in the middle of the story. The question is, “How do we live in a world that is not as it should be?” How do we live in a world where millions suffer from natural and man-made disasters? How do we live in an unfair world where bad people seem to get all the candy? How do we live with mean and misguided people who bring out the worst in us? How do we live with ourselves, when we seem to be fighting a losing battle against sin?
There are some hints in Narnia. The faithful faun, Mr. Tumnus, repents of his betrayal and does the right thing, though it costs him everything. The loving couple, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, build a happy and secure home in a chaotic and evil world. The brave children forget their fears and fight for the right against almost impossible odds. We can do the same kinds of things in our world.
But maybe the best hint is a surprise, especially at this time of year. As Aslan the lion comes into Narnia, the snow begins to melt; and who should appear but Father Christmas, who for us has become a much more commercialized Santa Claus. He comes with joy and presents and good food and drink, and he gives wonderful gifts, not because the boys and girls have been “good,” but because the Aslan is good. There’s a hint for us there—a hint that may even help us deal with the commercialization of Christmas. As The Real Story says, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,” (James 1:17) and, “everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.” (1 Tim. 4:4-5)
How do we live in a world that is not as it should be? There are hints in Narnia, but here is a straight answer: We live in the faith that someday the world will be as it should be—and we will be as we should be. And we try to make our world and our own lives like they should be, in anticipation of the glorious future that awaits the sons and daughters of God! The Real Story says it much better than I can: “Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Jesus appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure. “ (1 John 3:2-3)
