Caspian and the Bridge to Enchantment

I watched Disney’s Prince Caspian this morning with my daughter. I’ve also read the book, or rather listened to an audio version of it, performed by a talented British actress. The tale, as do all in the Narnia collection, ushers me into quite a mysterious mood of ambivalence. On the one hand, I’m elevated into a consciousness of wonder and expectation, an epic ideal inspired by the grandeur of the story, by the surreal setting, by the plight of the protagonist….the awesomeness of Aslan. On the other hand, the splendor of it all reminds me by contrast that my world consists mainly of the mundane. The day to day administrations of living in lackluster land lower my hope that life can be more than it has been, more than it is. Don’t get me wrong, there are joys and genuine moments of mystery and risk in my life, but they are ephemeral foot steps in the grand scope of the race, and they often (as do Lewis’s books) only leave me pining for a purpose that pulls me out of the ordinary and into the enchanted. I’d venture a guess that many people feel the same, especially in the West. Our craving for convenience, security, and leisure has brought on a boredom so profound that, like Dante’s purgatory, you can almost hear the collective sigh of millions searching in vain for something else – anything else.

So, what’s the answer? Do we thrill seek, get a hobby, go into online gaming, do drugs, travel, etc? While some of these may be viable vehicles for some level of vivacity, they’re only temporary solutions to a perennial problem. Prince Caspian itself may be an instructive guide for us as we consider the conquest of casual living. After a number of avenues had been either rejected or exhausted, and the advancing armies of the Telumarines were in sight, King Peter finally concedes to send Lucy into the forest to find Aslan. Of course Aslan was the answer all along, but they had to learn that lesson, unfortunately, after all else failed. Finding Aslan in the woods, Lucy snuggles up in his mane and takes comfort in his presence. He leads her back to the battle and, of course, all turns out well when he defeats the Telumarines by reanimating and enlisting the help the trees and water.

Finding Aslan in the woods… perhaps it’s the starting point for the reanimation of our seemingly torpid and tired world. After all, enchantment can only emerge with the presence of the Enchanter.

stones

There's been a period of blankness in my thoughts as of late. Well, not actually. There's been much abreast, but much often leaves me uninspired. A sulkiness of sorts settles in when deadlines, death, and dullness make their way into my life and exorcise any muse that may have been meandering about in my mind. I'm convinced that dullness is not about the circumstances surrounding us, but rather one's inner state of mind. When we lose or forget a sense of story then boredom becomes our chief bane. Granted, outer circumstances can influence our view of story, distorting it or destroying it, but ultimately we are responsible for maintaining it and reminding ourselves that it is linked to the Story of God's redemptive work in the world. The intersection of my life and His becomes the place where dullness is defeated and a new Enchanted Kingdom emerges in the midst of all the messiness and the mundane of this world. I know...I've experienced it before. It's been a while, but I was there. I'm not espousing any pollyannish prattle that asserts everything is going to be great and fun and fuzzy. But there is a joy coupled with a sense of adventure and voyage when that Kingdom surrounds you.

I often wonder what has happened since then. Where did this Kingdom go? Or where have I gone? I've come to the conclusion that I'm still in the midst of it, but something is blocking my view. I've been drawn of late to a particular verse in Psalm 16. It goes like this in one version: The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places. Indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.

After thinking about this and meditating on it for a number of weeks, I have some imagery that is helpful in explaining where this Kingdom "went"; why this inheritance. much of the time, seems to have vanished.

I picture myself being placed in this lush beautiful land, surrounded by waterfalls, trees and beautiful plumage of all sorts. Soon, however, I begin placing rocks in front of me and around me. Eventually there is a wall higher than my head surrounding me completely. I still stand in the middle of my inheritance, but I can't see or experience it.

These bricks, of course, represent my "baggage". My fear of failure takes precedent over faith and so I grab another stone from the quarry and place it on top of the rest. My bitterness prevailed over reconciliation, so another stone is wedged neatly between the others. These stones have been heaped on top of each other over many years. They were meant to protect me from the messiness of the world and those who occupy it, and perhaps there's a sheilding that does actually take place. But, ironically, they also prevent that which was meant to provide power and peace for ministering in the midst of this messiness. They block the view and experience of the Enchanted Kingdom which is more than able to destroy dullness. But in an effort to do so myself, I have created a mundane mural of stacked stones.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places. Indeed I have a beautiful inheritance. My prayer (for myself and anyone else who may be in such a position) is that the stones would fall like the wall of Jericho and reveal both the pleasant places again and the battle that we are to engage in. That the beautiful inhertance of the Enchanted Kingdom would become a reality again. And as each stone falls, revealing more beauty with each crash, we would be reminded of how our stories intesect with His, and be empowered to live in that convergence.