The Horse and His Boy: God’s Intimate Concern with Each Soul

Have you ever seen those “scale of the universe” videos on YouTube? They start with the smallest subatomic particle and then zoom out, out, out until you reach the limits of the observable universe. It’s a visual aid that helps us to understand not only how vast the universe is, but also how particular it is in every detail. 

C.S. Lewis similarly expands our view of Aslan’s operations in The Horse and His Boy. To do this, Lewis doesn’t take us to the land of giants or to mysterious islands in the uttermost east. Rather, the beginning pages of The Horse and His Boy direct our attention to an unremarkable fisherman’s hut. What could be of interest here? It’s not a promising start to an adventure. But looking back from the vantage point of the end of the story, we see Lewis’ goal: to show that Aslan is intimately concerned in the lives of each of his creatures, even the forlorn, adopted son of a fisherman.

We first meet Shasta, our flawed hero, in humble conditions—little better than a slave—but over the course of the story he becomes an heir to a kingdom. Along the way, Shasta’s character accordingly grows in stature as he learns loyalty, courage, and sacrifice. Shasta’s fellow travelers experience similar transformations. 

What ties these characters together is that they have grown up outside Narnia without knowing Aslan. But he is mindful of them, and he cares for them. They are under his tutelage even though they are not aware of it. At some point in the story, each of them have an encounter with Aslan where they learn of his interest in their lives, and it’s a revelation for them and for the reader: the mysterious lions that have intervened in their adventure have really been just one Lion all along! 

The lesson that Lewis seeks to impart (he is teaching morals to young people, after all) is that God knows and loves each person and has a plan for their lives, even those who don’t know him. It’s as if Lewis takes us far out of our solar system, to another planet where we can see and feel another landscape and atmosphere. We might feel overwhelmed, exclaiming with the Psalmist, “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers … what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”

Then we look down and Lewis gives us the ability to examine the molecular composition of an extraterrestrial rock, then even deeper to observe subatomic particles in their constant dance. “See!” he exclaims, “See how God neglects no detail but upholds even these small things in every place.” 

This type of extending, pervasive divine interest is entirely biblical. Consider Ruth, a poor foreigner in Israel, who finds the favor of the Lord and becomes ancestor to the king. Or Hagar, an Egyptian slave who runs away into the desert, fleeing her cruel mistress. She is surprised to meet God there and names him El roi, “the God who sees.” God sees every runaway slave. 

In The Horse and His Boy, Aslan’s involvement is primarily about discipline. Not only punishment (though that might be part of it), but training. My favorite scene of the book is when Shasta arrives breathlessly at the Hermit of the Southern March after heroically saving Arvis from a lion. They are racing against time and must warn the king of Archenland about the invading Calormene army. 

“Are—are—are you,” panted Shasta. “Are you King Lune of Archenland?” The old man shook his head. “No,” he replied in a quiet voice, “I am the Hermit of the Southern March. And now, my son, waste no time on questions, but obey. This damsel is wounded. Your horses are spent. Rabadash is at this moment finding a ford over the Winding Arrow. If you run now, without a moment’s rest, you will still be in time to warn King Lune.”

Lewis describes Shasta’s silent struggle upon hearing this. The demand seems cruel and unfair after all he’s been through. “He had not yet learned that if you do one good deed your reward usually is to  be set to do another and harder and better one,” Lewis writes. You sense this is perhaps the most important test for Shasta so far, and you’re cheering for him along with the angels in heaven. “You can do it, Shasta!” Your heart thrills when he answers only, “Where is the King?”

The author of Hebrews writes that God treats us as his sons and daughters when he allows us to undergo hardship. No discipline is pleasant at the time, but it can have a good purpose if we submit and allow ourselves to be trained. When Moses summarizes the Israelites’ sojourn in the wilderness, he says, “Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God disciplines you.”

For believers, The Horse and His Boy can be the most intimate of the Narnia stories. We learn that every person has their own story that God is writing together with them. In the midst of confusion, we can rest assured that God indeed has a plan but that it's not always to make us comfortable, but better.

An Anxiety Observed: My thoughts during a pandemic

C.S. Lewis first published A Grief Observed under a pseudonym, perhaps self-conscious about letting others read about his anger and doubt, and eventual reconciliation, following the death of his wife. It’s one of the most open and honest confessions we have, made powerful because C.S. Lewis has been such a successful apologist and spiritual mentor to so many of us. We can see that even this colossus of reasoned faith is a human who struggles like us after all. To me, that makes the written testimony he left behind more precious and encouraging, not less.

That’s why I decided to write about my anxiety going through this COVID-19 pandemic. I want to be open about how I’m handling this. It’s time for what I’ve taught others to live up to the test in me. Usually, I am not an anxious person and so have been shocked to see the miasma that has descended on me over the past few weeks. It’s a strange experience: prolonged listlessness, fraying patience, sleepless nights, and more than anything a feeling of helplessness. 

Writing on March 28, it’s clear that the United States will see hundreds of thousands of confirmed cases of the coronavirus and that a number of these people will suffer immensely and even die alone in a hospital bed apart from their loved ones. This will be the terrible result of our best efforts to distance ourselves socially, and even so immensely better than the alternative of letting the virus run rampant throughout our entire population. Despite our wealth and technology, there is no way to dodge this. We simply must bear it as best we can until it’s over.

How does my faith help me in this time? More than ever, I understand that faith is not an intellectual exercise, “God is sovereign and good,” but trust in a person, “I trust that God sees and will aid us.” The Bible tells us to lift up our cares and concerns to God, and my bundle of cares seems so heavy. I worry about people in our church family, about the economy, about the government, about how people in nations without robust healthcare infrastructure will fare. I’m so anxious because there’s so little I can do—except to pray to the person that I believe can do something. Throughout the day, every day, I stop and pray to God, asking Him to protect my family and friends, strengthen and protect our healthcare workers, and give our leaders wisdom. 

Recently, I read Silence by Shūsaku Endō, a novel about persecution of Japanese Christians in the 17th century. The theme of the novel is the apparent silence of God as His followers are persecuted. It’s not a comfortable book to read as a believer, but it is a good reminder of the relative ease and safety we still enjoy in 21st century America, coronavirus notwithstanding. Throughout history, Christians have called upon their God to help them in the midst of tribulation. “Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you,” writes Peter to believers in the first century. These words hadn’t really meant anything to us before.

I see this period of anxious helplessness as a trial or test. Trials come to prove the genuineness of our faith, writes Peter. What will my response be? Will it show that my faith all along has been just an intellectual exercise, or do I really trust my proclaimed Savior? I don’t know how long this will last—perhaps throughout the year if the virus spreads and peaks in yet unreached areas, and then comes back seasonally. We may be in the very early stages and need to prepare ourselves for the long haul. This is going to be a real trial. I pray that I emerge with a better understanding of myself and who my God is.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

    where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,

    the Maker of heaven and earth.

~ Psalm 121:1-2

When you lose peace because someone invaded your home

Someone broke into our house while we were sleeping last Saturday night.

I don't get to enjoy the outdoors as much as I'd like to, so sometimes compensate by sleeping on my deck in the summertime. On Saturday night, something woke me up. I was groggy and remember seeing a distinct human shadow projected onto the wall of my house. The light source was my neighbor's backyard floodlight and the figure was close based on the size. It took a couple seconds, but I realized that someone was opening the gate at the top of the stairs and entering the deck. This guy was just a few feet away! Immediately, I sprang up and loudly cursed, watching him beat a hasty retreat down the stairs and back out my side gate.

I went inside, locked the door, and called 911. My wife was awake by now. "Oh yeah, putting on some pants might not be a bad idea"—the thought struck me as I spoke to the operator. I went outside to wait for the police. As the two officers arrived and went around to my backyard, the guy sprang from the other side of the house and raced across the street. All this happened very quickly, but I was very surprised that he hung around the backyard. I had assumed he would have hightailed it out of their knowing that I was on the phone with 911. More police officers arrived and began to comb through the neighborhood. It turned out that this fellow was also responsible for two earlier calls, one involving arson. One of the police officers showed me some video footage caught by one of those motion-sensor home cameras. Based on his clothing, I could say it was the same guy. He was a young, dopey-looking white guy with a black t-shirt with "MAYHEM" emblazoned in white letters.

After the police left, the worst part came: As I went back inside to check the house, I found that the the door leading into the house from the garage was open as well as the door from the backyard into the garage. This man had been inside the house at some point. My children were still sleeping upstairs ... what if ...?!

That night and for the several nights since, neither my wife or I have slept well. I am doing better now, having installed better locks and learning that the man has been arrested. The detective in charge of the case called me this afternoon, apparently looking to bolster the link to the arson. I learned the man was 26 years old and not from the area, but had been dropped off near the neighborhood that night. He was likely high on some type of substance.

Being an introspective person, I have been surprised at how this event could change my psyche so dramatically: When we come home from an outing, I need to check every room. I hear things at night and need to investigate. Some of this is probably healthy, leading me to install floodlights in the backyard and put sticks in my girls' bedroom windows. But some of this anxiety is definitely not healthy and enables me to empathize just a little bit with other people who have been violated in worse ways. With my peace gone, I realize how precious it is to have peace.

Peace is the English word we use to translate shalom (שָׁלוֹם), a Hebrew word that Jesus used to greet people in the Gospels: "Peace be unto you." Today, both Jews and Muslims still use this word as a salutation. I now value shalom more than before because I need it more than before. I need to know that my family is safe; that no one is intent on harming them.

Honestly, I am in a much better state than a couple days ago. But this was a wake-up call for me. So many people live without shalom, not just because of present physical danger but because a past trauma has robbed them of their peace. To these people, I want to say that I caught just a brief and shallow glimpse into what real psychological trauma might be like. I can empathize a little bit. But I also want to encourage you that peace is something you can reclaim. It is something that God promised to the Jewish people as they escaped slavery in Egypt, and that Jesus promised to those in need: "Shalom I leave you, My shalom I give to you; but not as the world gives! Do not let your heart be troubled or afraid." Read through the Gospels. They were recorded for you and me both.

A good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

Alexamenos Is Faithful

Three things inspired the short story below:

1. One of my favorite books, Evangelism in the Early Church by Michael Green. In that book, there is the drawing of the graffiti above, found in the barracks of the imperial pages in Rome and dating from the third century. We don't know the details around it (Wikipedia page here), but I've always thought that it was the response of a young Christian's converts friends as they mock him. 
2. A conjecture from The Hidden Romance of the New Testament by James Alexander Robinson, where the author makes a pretty good case for John Mark's house being the upper room of the Last Supper and for Mark himself being the youth who fled the Garden of Gethsemane. 
3. A speculative short story by my friend Jim Slagle at Agent Intellect called Witness, which I can't seem to find the link to any longer. If I remember correctly, that story was about an old Christian condemned to die in the arena who learned from another who sat at the feet of John the brother of Jesus. 

Alexamenos Is Faithful 

There, scratched on the wall, is the accusation and insult: A figure worships at the foot of the cross, and on the cross, a man with a donkey’s head. It is said among the Romans that the Jews worshiped the head of an ass within the most holy part of their temple before Emperor Titus overthrew it. Beneath the imagery, the words, “Alexamenos worships his god.”

Rufus, Aquila, and the other boys are sniggering, watching my reaction.

So, this is how it feels to be a Christian?

Before I know what is happening, my eyes are filled with tears. Rufus’ face is filled with a wordless hatred. This is what you get for your betrayal, he says in a look. I grab my master’s equipment from the closet and then back to the door. The boys make way, but slap my head and holler as I run through. I have never been so humiliated!

***

Later that night, when I am at Phoebe’s house, I share what has happened to the group. The elder Pantenaeus speaks up, “You know, Alex, my grandmother told me about a story that she heard from the Evangelist Mark when he was here in Rome. He was a young believer, just as you are. He knew Jesus Himself, and even followed Jesus and His disciples into the garden on the night that Jesus was betrayed. When the soldiers came, Mark fled naked in his haste to get away. Mark knew Peter and the other apostles very well, and the church would often gather at his house in Jerusalem. Later, Mark went with Paul and Barnabas on their first journey into Asia, but turned back for fear. You see, he was willing to tell this to everyone to encourage them that it is normal to fear. What is important is that we overcome our fear, and the only way we can do that is through love.”

“You love your friends still. Don’t give up! Remember what Jesus said on the cross, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.’ Later in his life, Paul came to rely on Mark again and called him here to Rome to be with him in Paul’s last days. And Peter himself insisted Mark include the story of his denial into his gospel. What is important is how we end.”

“Love overcomes. Stay the course and continue to show kindness to your friends. Pray for them so that when you look into their eyes, they cannot deny that you mean them well. I fully believe that God will reveal who He is through you.”

***

(Six month later)

“Alexamenos is faithful.” That is the new graffiti written inside the barracks for the imperial pages. And it is written by Rufus, now not only my friend since childhood but my brother in Christ. 

Was Paul tempted sexually? 2 Corinthians 11:29 says so

Paul preaching in the Areopagus in Athens, by Raphael.

We all love Paul the Apostle. He's so earnest, so hardworking, so amazingly effective in planting churches! But did he also suffer the temptation to sin sexually? It's hard to imagine, but I believe he did based on 2 Corinthians 11:29:

Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn? (NIV)

The New International Version provides a more literal translation for the Greek word puroomai, which literally means to burn. In the New Testament, this word is used only two times to refer to emotions: by Paul to refer to sexual temptation in 1 Corinthians 7:9 and by Paul again in 2 Corinthians 11:29 where he speaks of a burning feeling.

Most other English translations of the Bible follow the lead of the King James Version in translating puroomai to refer to indignation. In these translations, Paul is saying that he burns with indignation when others are led into sin.

"Yes, I feel weak, just like all of you, but I haven't given in"

But does this jive with the rest of chapter 11 and 12? Also, if Paul is the only New Testament writer to use puroomai to refer to emotions, shouldn't we at least consider that he would use the word in the same manner to refer to sexual temptation here?

This is a much more natural reading of 2 Corinthians 11 leading up to verse 29: "I've already made a fool of myself boasting about myself, since you all are impressed by such boasting. The physical hardships that I've had to deal with are far beyond the pale of what anyone else can claim to have endured. Likewise, the emotional hardship I endure is equally great. Not only do I constantly worry about all the churches under my care, but I face daily the same types of weaknesses and temptations that you all do, but I never give in to those things."

To me, this is a much more characteristic and natural reading of Paul's message here. You can imagine Paul pacing the room, dictating the letter to his amanuensis, becoming more and more enthused as he recounts all the hardships that he has undergone. But beyond the physical suffering that he has experienced, he wants them to know that he's just an ordinary guy. He also feels weak at times, and yes, he also is tempted sexually.

Astute readers in Corinth would have remembered that Paul used the word puroomai to refer to sexual temptation in a previous letter. Without elaboration, it would have been natural for them to understand Paul's meaning here as referring to his own private temptations that no one else could have known about had he not revealed it to them. But that's the mood he's in now.

In exasperation, Paul says in verse 30: "If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness." Yes, Paul says, I feel weak. I also burn with temptation. But I choose not to give in to those things for the sake of Jesus, because I don't want to disqualify myself for ministry.

Paul was not without normal sexual feeling. He considered it his right to take a believing wife with him as he ministered, as the other apostles did. But he gave up that right so that he might serve without concern for her wellbeing.

The take-away: Paul's not superhuman, and that's OK

So, what's the take-away for us believers today? Personally, I take heart knowing that Paul was just a regular guy in terms of the temptations that he faced. Sure, he was exceptional in that he disciplined himself ("beat his body to make it his slave," in his terms) beyond what most of us could imagine, but he was not immune. And if he could do it, then there's hope for you and I.

Why I love the Lord of the Rings books

My Rings books. They are precious to me.

I took the week of Christmas off this year and took the opportunity to watch Peter Jackson's The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug movie and re-read The Fellowship of the Ring. I'm being indulgent, but it's my opinion that you should indulge yourself with things that are beneficial to you. For myself, The Lord of the Rings and their related books are beneficial.

As a Christian who believes that God has an eternal purpose for each human being, The Lord of the Rings encourages me to think big-picture thoughts and to live purposefully. Each of the hobbits in the The Lord of the Rings ends up playing a critical role in the war against Sauron, although it is not clear to them as they each fulfill their part of the quest. All they know is that, although it might be preferable to their immediate desires to flee to the safety and comfort of the Shire, they must persevere until their task is completed. For Christians throughout history, this sense of purpose and quest has inspired men and women to live lives worthy of their calling. John Bunyan captured this sense well in his Pilgrim's Progress. Times of rest, trial, and despair are to be expected--but there is also great hope to cherish and hidden strength to draw on. Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart for I have overcome the world." What is God's purpose for me? I can't share everything on the blog, but I know that His plan requires patient endurance, discipline, and courage.

The Lord of the Rings also reminds me of the folly of relying on wisdom or strength alone. The reason that good triumphs over evil in the end of the story is not because good overpowers evil, but rather that they refuse to fight against evil in the same manner. Sauron anticipates that Aragorn will wield the Ring against him, not help to destroy it. Gandalf and the Council realize that their hope lies in the courage and humility of hobbits. These hobbits are not ambitious or seeking power, but they are faithful to each other and to their calling. In the same way, Christians do not gain their victory by might or power, but by courageously obeying the leading of the Holy Spirit.

I understand that J.R.R. Tolkien was critical of allegory and surprised at some of the interpretations of his work during his lifetime, but he also wrote in his foreword to the revised editions that history, even feigned history such as the Rings universe, had applicability to the thoughts and experiences of the readers. This applicability to Christian experience is why I don't feel too bad about re-reading these thoroughly enjoyable books or recommending them to others.