The Doctor and Jesus

To many of my friends this will probably seem like a pretty crazy piece. It is pretty absurd, but it combines the two stories that I've been immersed in this week - Doctor Who, and The Life of Jesus as told in the Gospel of Mark. They don't really go together. I don't pretend they do. But having both in my head at the same time meant I couldn't help but make comparisons. Don't worry, I'm not going to say The Doctor is God incarnate or a type of Christ or anything like that. That would just be silly. And probably blasphemous. So...well you can read it if you feel so inclined and see what you think. 

On hearing this, Jesus said to them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” Mark 2:17

It's Doctor Who season. I had never seen an episode of Doctor Who before December last year, but I had a bunch of friends on TLC who used to talk about it all the time. So when I moved to the UK, it was inevitable that I'd get to watching it. Through the course of last year, I managed to watch many of the reruns of the new series on BBC and had seen up to the third episode of the Sixth Series when I went back home. Since the Seventh Series is now showing, I decided on returning to the UK to buy Series Six so I could watch the rest of it. I spent Monday and Tuesday catching up and was then left with a bit of that empty feeling you have when you've finished a good book or movie or TV series and there's no more. In the case of Doctor Who there is more - the currently airing Seventh Series but that means waiting a week for each episode. Which is fine - but it did mean I had a few days to stew over some of the mind-boggling events of the Sixth Series. And it was pretty mind-boggling.

Those who are fans will understand this. Those who haven't watched it or haven't been gripped by it won't. But there's something appealing and endearing about the Doctor and his adventures. Some of them - many of them - are seriously creepy, but his character and the friendships and the relationships he builds and the way he deals with impossible dangers, makes the story rise beyond the creepiness and get into your heart.

I don't know exactly what it is. Maybe it's his love for humanity, loyalty for his companions and the incredible way in which he continually saves the world/universe/individuals whom he cares about. Then there's stuff like his awesome wacky character, his sometimes flippant attitude in the most dangerous situations. Those who are fans, and have been for a long time, can probably express it better than me.

I guess in sum, the Doctor is just a really cool and likeable character and his adventures take you momentarily out of troubles of this world. I'm sure there are many who wish he was really real and envy those who travel with him wishing they too could have such adventures.

Unfortunately he isn't. And neither are his adventures. But there is some pretty awesome stuff going on in the real world that we should not let things like Doctor Who take our eyes off of.

A couple days after finishing Series Six, with all these things still in my head, I found myself trying to break free of the fantasy world and back to the reality that is analysing Greek texts for my thesis. Struggling to get back into the Greek, I had a sudden inspiration to read some of the New Testament (i.e. texts I know really well) in Greek. I have an interlinear Greek Bible (which means it has English translations of words under the Greek words. I know it seems like cheating, but for the sake of easing myself in, I felt it would be more beneficial than sitting doing nothing or struggling so much looking every word up that I gave up after a couple pages). I was going to go through Acts, but had a sudden inclination to tackle a Gospel instead. I picked Mark (it's the shortest). I've read Mark many times - studied it three times in about three years at Church/Youth. So I know it pretty well. My intention in reading this was for the sake of the Greek - not to get anything significant out of it. But sometimes God has other plans.

I have the distinct disadvantage of having been brought up on the Bible from a very young age. There are massive advantages in this too - and I am eternally grateful to my parents for this. But the disadvantage is that the accounts in the Bible are so familiar to me, it's difficult not to take them for granted. The amazing aspects of Jesus' life, the miracles he performed, the message he preached, the way he was treated by his enemies and responded to them, his death and resurrection, are all so well known in my head they often cease to amaze. I believe them to be true (a decision I made) and the truth does not change. But their impact is not usually very great.

One way I've found that helps me overcome my familiarity with the Bible is reading it in different translations. We are lucky in the English speaking world that we have so many different translations and "versions". And while the fundamental message does not change, reading it in different wording often brings to light things you may have ceased to notice in a more familiar version. The Amplified Bible, I think, is particularly good at this (not that it's my favourite translation - I don't even own a copy of it - but from hearing it quoted I think it would be good for this despite it's other faults).

You can probably guess where this is going. Reading Mark in Greek was reading it in a new version for me and, as a result, had the unanticipated effect of bringing the story to life in a new way. I know some people think the New Testament in Greek, since it is the original, must be the purist/most accurate form and are perhaps thinking that it was the fact it was Greek that it brought new meaning. I don't think that's true. Greek is not a super holy language and though there may be aspects of its vocabulary and grammar that bring a clarity of meaning which it is hard to convey in translation, it's by no means a perfect language and suffers from ambiguity as much as the next language. Maybe if my Greek was better it would be different, but the clarity and understanding you get from the Greek bible is only as good as your Greek allows it to be. Anyway, as I was partially relying on the English translated words in the interlinear form, some of the effect was completely lost.

But what did happen is that I read the text more slowly than usual - sometimes having to reread over parts. And I was reading it in unfamiliar terms. And these two things together contributed to the what happened while I was reading.

I wasn't far into the text (Mark makes the story move very quickly) before I was hit with a revelation I know to be true, but needed to be reminded of. With Doctor Who still in my mind, as I read about the amazing authority and power Jesus had in words and actions, and the way people were completely astounded by what he did, I was reminded just what an amazing person Jesus was. I say "was", though he still is amazing, because I'm referring to his human life on Earth. If I thought the Doctor was cool, well Jesus was off the charts.

The Doctor looks human, and often acts human, though he isn't really. He can do things that the humans he interacts with can't and that's one of the things that makes him special. As is his love for humans and our world. Jesus was human. Completely. But he is more than human and comes from beyond and before our world. Although much of his Godly power was veiled while he was on earth, little bits of it seeped through. As we read the Gospels, we see he has power over demons, over sickness, over deafness and blindness, over the elements, over food quantities, even over death. The people he interacts with recognise his unusual power and authority immediately. And the response is either to follow him (in different degrees - many followed him just because they wanted to witness more miracles, while others gave up their way of life to become his companions) or to fear (and try to get rid of) him.

When I read of Jesus' interactions with demons (there are quite a few accounts in Mark), I was put in mind a little of the Doctor's interaction with certain aliens. It doesn't work for all, but there are some to whom he just needs to say his name and they immediately fear him. In this case it's pretty easy for him to tell them to leave Earth alone and go back to wherever they came from.  Of course this doesn't happen all that much, or the stories would be kind of boring. But with Jesus, the demons are so terrified they do exactly what he says. They just see him coming and beg for mercy.

I want to reiterate that these Doctor Who analogies are only coming up because I had them in my head. I'm not in the least inferring that the Doctor is some kind of Christ-figure or supposed to represent him or anything. They are so completely different and the concept of the Doctor was created without any religious connotations anticipated (if anything the complete opposite). But since I had "the Doctor is cool" in my mind when reading about Jesus, it was amazing to be reminded "so was Jesus - in fact he was cooler".

Something that comes out very strongly in Mark is that Jesus is being very careful about his popularity. The reason for this is explained more in the other gospels (I think John in particular): he is following a precise timetable. If he were to become too well known too soon, the plan would be jeopardised. Jesus' mission was to preach about repentance and the Kingdom of Heaven. And to train up his disciples to continue his message and mission after he was gone. Although he performed many miracles, his priority was always to preach. He healed the sick and demon-possessed as they were brought to him out of compassion. And the miracles confirmed to those who watched that he truly had authority from God, but they were secondary. His aim was not to heal physical ills but to heal people's spirits. For that, preaching his message and the culmination of his task (dying for the sins of all humans and rising again) were far more important than giving people temporary physical healing.

Continually, throughout Mark, we see him trying to downplay his miracles. When he cast demons out of people, he would forbid them from shouting out who he was (they recognised him as the Son of God) and he would tell those he healed or who witnessed a healing not to tell anyone else what he had done. This is not more clear than in the passage where he raises Jaris' daughter from the dead and tells those around him that "she's not dead but just sleeping". Only a few are allowed to witness the miracle, since raising someone from the dead is kind of a biggie. In fact the next time he does this - with Lazarus - it's not kept secret. And it pretty much seals his death warrant. 

This playing down his miracles was strategic. If people realised his full power and who he was the two parties (those for and against him) would become too radical too soon. Those who believed in him would want to make him King and use him as a political figure to overthrow the Roman oppression (which they actually tried at one point - he conveniently disappeared at the time). Those who hated him would do everything in their power to make sure that never happened and have him killed (which would be easy for them if he was being advocated as an opponent to Rome's authority). As it was, he only had three years of ministry before things escalated to this point. But three years was enough. Less time would have been a problem.

And I believe that is why he was so protective of people knowing who he was. It's a little bit like the way the Doctor lives a precarious life because of his abilities, becoming easily surrounded by both those who love and practically worship him and those who hate and fear and want to destroy him. In Series 6, this reaches a crux. He becomes too big, so big in fact that a war pretty much breaks out around him. And plans are put in place to remove him from the equation. As this becomes known to him, he realises just how powerful he has become and accepts his fate that he will be killed. Of course, at first he tries to escape it, but in the end, knowing he cannot stop it, he accepts that it will be better for the world if he is no longer there to cause such division. In the end, a series of events spiral into place and it does not end in the way he anticipated. But at least he is off the radar for now and the world can forget about him for a while.

Okay, so Jesus' story is so completely different, and I'll get to that. But I think the way the Doctor realises he is too big and needs to die is a nice illustration of why Jesus didn't want everyone knowing who he was or what he could do too soon. Of course, Jesus story deviates completely at this point. He knew he had to die all along, but the reason was completely different. The very reason he came to earth in the first place and was born a human was so that he could die. His death was a sacrifice. Not for peace in a world aligned or opposed to him. If anything his death caused the opposite, as his new followers were continually persecuted for their faith in him (and the battle between those for and against him has never really ended). His death was the sacrifice for humanity that the punishment for mankind's sins could be taken on one man and mankind could receive forgiveness and redemption and be reunited with the God we forsook at the creation of the world.

The Doctor was prepared to die because he felt it would be better for the world/universe if he wasn't around. Jesus went to die because he knew it would be better for the world if sin were conquered and a way made for man to renew his relationship with God. And a significant difference was that Jesus knew he would rise again. He wasn't getting out of the picture - he was becoming the centre of it. Jesus' death wasn't about dying and ceasing to exist, it was about death (and the spiritual agony of a condemned man being forsaken by God) being the punishment for sin. Death wasn't the end because he was sinless and death could not hold a man punished for sins he did not commit.

The Doctor is such a likeable person and his imagined reality so attractive it's easy to wish it was real. But there was (I believe) a man who lived the most incredible life, had the most incredible power and saved the world in a way the Doctor would not even realise it needed saving. Not everyone believes Jesus is real, or he really did the things the Gospels tell us he did. But I believe them and that makes me so excited. And he loves our world more than the Doctor ever could. And he wants a relationship with each and every one who is willing. He wants us to be his companions and to go on adventures with him that would boggle the imagination of even the writers of Doctor Who.

Not everyone accepts this adventure. Like those the Doctor meets on his travels, some say "No thanks, I like my life, I couldn't travel with you." But for those that accept it, we're stuck on the adventure of a lifetime. And it never ends. No teary goodbyes. No moving on. Just a lifetime and then eternity with him.

We live in a pretty awesome world and serve a pretty awesome God.

Haman hanged - a reversal

Most of the ideas in the post come from a sermon by Pete Wilkinson, St Ebbes, Oxford entitled "Two Banquets"

Haman in One Night with the King

Those familiar with the story of the Jewish woman Esther who finds herself Queen of the Persian Empire, will know that Haman is the villain of the story. He is proud and evil and meets his just deserts in one of the most ironically satisfying reversal tales in the Bible. We cheer to see Haman leading Mordecai the Jew, his sworn enemy, on the king's horse like a common slave and proclaiming how much the king honours his rival. We cheer too when we see him hanged on the very gallows he had had built to hang this same enemy. This is a story of evil defeated and good being victorious. It's the way we expect things should be.

In this morning's 9.45 service at St Ebbe's, the speaker, Pete Wilkinson put something of a different spin on this story - one I've never thought of before. Yes Haman is the bad guy. But to what extent is Haman a picture of us? He exemplifies the human condition apart from God. Desperately wicked and fully absorbed in his own self-promotion and exultation, are we really that different from him? Pride is a quintessential expression of human sin. It was pride that caused Adam and Eve to desire to eat the fruit from the tree of  the Knowledge of Good and Evil; the pride that the fruit would make them like God so that they would no longer need to submit to him. And pride leads us to many of our our other sins - the belief that we are the most important person in the world and therefore have the right to do whatever we want, regardless of it's consequences.

When we look at ourselves in the light of Haman and his end, we may wonder: "Is there then any hope for us?" Haman's sins did find him out, what then of us?

The answer, however is that there is hope. Though we recognise the justice in Haman's story, it is not the most powerful reversal story in the Bible. There is another, more significant, in it's apparent injustice.

When Xerxes has Haman hanged he is careful to protect his own reputation. Esther's accusation against him is that he is planning the massacre of her people, but since Xerxes played a role in authorising that massacre, he accuses Haman instead of assaulting his wife (a charge it seems is only partially true). In this way the King punishes Haman justly, but protects his own reputation.

The other story, the one that brings hope for us Hamans, also involves a hanging of sorts. A hanging on a Roman cross. In this story, the king does not seek to protect his own reputation, but, being this time completely innocent, he takes the punishment that we the Hamans deserved. This reversal is one in which the just man is hanged so that the guilty may go free.

Looking at it from this point of view, it seems all wrong. It is, but the story doesn't end there. Because it wasn't just some good king that took the death penalty on the evil Haman's part; it was God himself in human flesh, in the person of Jesus. He wasn't only a good king, but was completely holy. In his holiness, the grave could not hold him and he rose again after three days, not only securing freedom for a world full of Hamans, but defeating the evil and need for death that all those Hamans possessed. When we acknowledge that we are among those Hamans, we come to understand the undeserved grace that is showered on us through this reversal. To all who accept this substitution, we receive not only life, but the power stop being Hamans. 

When we look on how the one deserving of all honour did not seek his own glory but humiliated himself, we begin to realise just how great this God is. With this new view, and with his spirit in us, we can't help but see the folly of our pride and begin to humble ourselves before him. Unlike Haman, we have a happier ending. Our life does not end on the gallows as we deserve, but we have the opportunity to repent and start a new life where honour goes to the one who deserves it! Not how's that for a reversal?

On first meeting Aslan...

Musings from The Horse and His Boy, by CS Lewis (Part 3)

The Horse and His Boy is a unique book in the Chronicles of Narnia series. In this book, all four main characters (two children and two horses) have spent most of their lives in Calormen, the pagan land to the south of Narnia. As a result, they have grown up knowing very little, if anything, about Aslan. When each of them meet him, their response is different, and yet meaningful. These scenes shed light on who Aslan is, and by extension, on the One he represents.

3. Aravis

the meeting

Of the four main characters, Aravis is something of an outsider in the sense that she is the only member of true Calormene descent. We don't know much about Shasta's earlier beliefs (I doubt very much that Arsheesh was a particularly religious man, and imagine Shasta simply picked up a little here and there about the Calormene gods - he does wonder if he is descended from one of them).

Aravis, however, would have had a much more serious upbringing in the ways of the Calormene religion. She had been taught that her family was descended from the god Tash. She was also taught to utter the words "may he live forever" after any mention of the Tisroc (presumably also considered one of Tash's descendants.)

We don't know how she truly felt about her gods, and one could surmise that she had reverence, but no love for them, as was the case in the polytheistic societies with whom Lewis would have been familiar (such as the ancient Greeks and Romans).

After Hwin convinces her not to kill herself and suggests they escape to Narnia, Aravis swears by the Calormene gods.

In the name of Tash and Azaroth and Zardeenah, Lady of the Night, I have a great wish to be in that country of Narnia.

As part of her plot to run away, Aravis told her father that she would be going

With one of my maidens alone for three days into the woods to do secret sacrifices to Zardeenah, Lady of the Night and of Maidens, as is proper and customary for damsels when they must bid farewell to the service of Zardeenah and prepare themselves for marriage.

We can guess that whatever she might have thought about the gods, she was familiar enough with the practices of Zardeenah's followers, and considered a pious enough follower by her father, to convince him of this lie. It also suggests, however, that she was not afraid of risking the goddess' wrath by lying about worshipping her. Perhaps she believed that, as the goddess of maidens, she would protect Aravis' escape from an unwanted marriage.

In addition to her worship of the Calormene gods, Aravis also believed in the Calormene rumours of spirits (or ghouls) that live near the tombs - which caused her to share the superstitious fear that all Calormenes have of that place.

So unlike Shasta, whose religious knowledge was probably limited, and Bree who knew about and believed in Aslan, though he did not understand who He was, Aravis was a true pagan (in the historic sense of the word).

We know that she had heard about Aslan, because she says to Bree, when querying him about why he swears by the Lion,

All the stories in Tashbaan say he is [a lion]

We also have a fair idea of what these stories were, since the Tisroc himself mentions them to Rabadash,

It is commonly reported that the High King of Narnia (whom may the gods utterly reject) is supported by a demon of hideous aspect and irresistible maleficence who appears in the shape of a lion.

I guess it makes sense that there would be such blasphemous rumours about Aslan circulating in a land of numerous gods, who represented much of what Aslan did not. And before now, Aravis had had little cause to disbelieve them.

She clearly wondered, however, who exactly he was - hence her cross examination of Bree's words. Though she does not say it outright, it seems that veiled behind her query is the question: "If the stories in Tashbaan are true - why do you swear by this great evil lion?" She doesn't, however, get a chance to put this question to Bree. For Bree is still trying two answer her first question when Aslan himself appears.

The book tells us little of Aravis' thoughts on first seeing Him. How she must have felt after all she had heard and believed, added to the fact that she still bore the scars of the previous day's lion-attack, is hard to imagine.

And yet somehow, all that seems to fade away when she meets him face to face. There must have been something in his eyes, in his voice that causes her to realise that everything she's ever heard about Aslan was a lie.

Perhaps because of all the other things that she had learnt in the last few days: that her father would put his own interests above those of his daughter, that the Tisroc was a cruel hard-hearted man who would likely not live forever, that the life she had always wanted was shallow and meaningless (reflected in her friend Lasaraleen's behaviour), that a simple silly slave boy was true-hearted and courageous - these things may have made it easier for her to accept that the story of the demon-lion was just another lie that those in her old life had been feeding her with.

Whatever it was, she accepts Aslan's words of reproof without questioning:

Happy [the human] who knows that [she is a fool] while she is still young. Draw near Aravis, my daughter. My paws are velveted. You shall not be torn this time... It was I who wounded you. I am the only lion you met in all your journeyings... The scratches on your back, tear for tear, throb for throb, blood for blood, were equal to the stripes laid on the back of your step-mother's slave because of the drugged sleep you cast upon her. You needed to know what it felt like.

Aravis accepts this calmly. No excuses. No "Why me?", "I did it for a good reason" or "She deserved it". The injuries must have done their job and she understood completely. She asks only one question.

Will any more harm come to her because of what I did?

Aslan's reply is the same one he gives when Shasta asks him why he tore Aravis' back:

No one is told any story but their own

 

what we can learn

So what does Aravis' first meeting with Aslan teach us?

For one thing, it reveals to us the power of God to change a person's heart. Despite the fact that she had been brought up believing all the wrong things, especially about Aslan - it takes only a moment of divine revelation and her heart is changed forever.

Sometimes we underestimate the power of the Spirit to convict and change lives. We think that it takes some clever arguing on our part or that a person must be treated to a full range of bible and deep theological teachings before God can work in their lives. Not that these things are unimportant, but often we find we are praying and working for the wrong thing. At the end of the day, it is the revelation of God - that comes from his Spirit and not from our clever argument - that leads to a person's salvation:

"Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,
      Nor have entered into the heart of man
      The things which God has prepared for those who love Him."

  But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God. These things we also speak, not in words which man’s wisdom teaches but which the Holy Spirit teaches, comparing spiritual things with spiritual. 1 Cor 2:9-10, 13

Having said this, while it was true that Aravis' heart was changed in a moment, (she had just been quizing Bree about this lion-spirit that was rumoured of in Tashbaan, when he appears and she immediately drops and rejects those beliefs) Alsan had been working in her life for a long time.

All the previous events (bringing Hwin the talking Narnian horse to her, causing her to meet Shasta, perhaps even the marriage to Ahoshta itself,) all these and many more incidents had occured to lead her to this point. This is the same when it comes to salvation in our world. We, and those we meet, may be brought to God in a moment (although this process happens only with some people - by no means all), there may have been numerous small events (seeds and waterings) which prepared that person for that moment.

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. 1 Cor 3:6

Another, different lesson that is brought out from Aravis' meeting with Aslan is, strangely enough, an Old Testament principle which many would say was done away with in the New Testament.

Aslan explains to Aravis that he scratched her so that she would know what it was that the slave girl had suffered because of her deceitfulness:

The scratches on your back, tear for tear, throb for throb, blood for blood, were equal to the stripes laid on the back of your step mother's slave because of the drugged sleep you cast upon her. You needed to know what it felt like.

When God gave the Law to Moses, one of the key elements of it was restorative justice.

But if any harm follows, then you shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.
Ex 21:23-25

The Jews are shocked in the New Testament when Jesus says what appears to be the opposite:

You have heard that it was said, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." But I tell you not to resist an evil person. But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. If anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also. And whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to him who asks you, and from him who wants to borrow from you do not turn away. Matt 5:38-42

But it is not really the case. We, like Aravis, deserve punishment that equals the harm caused by all the wrongs we have done. There is a reason we are spared. Jesus took that punishment so we would not have to.

But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed. Is 53:5

Why was Aravis not spared? There could be various explanations. The Chronicles are not set on earth and so sometimes things happen a little differently. But I think that the answer is that she was spared. She was punished for only one of the wrong things she had done, but there were certainly more that she had done and was still to do. This one "small" punishment taught her a lesson she would not easily forget, and most likely made her a better person. It was a lesson. Aslan said she needed to "understand" - not to suffer for all her sins.

Although all who are saved through Jesus will be spared the ultimate punishment for what we have done wrong, we still have to suffer consequences for our actions in this life. These consequences are often naturally occurring results of what we have done. But sometimes they may be (or may also be) a form of discipline from the Lord. They are there to teach us a lesson - to help us "understand" the harm we have cause and why it was wrong.

My son, do not despise the LORD’s discipline,
   and do not resent his rebuke,
 because the LORD disciplines those he loves,
   as a father the son he delights in. Prov 3:11-12

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See Also (other reflections on HHB)

On first meeting Aslan (Shasta)
On first meeting Aslan (Bree)

Summer Challenge 1 
Summer Challenge 2 

On first meeting Aslan...

Musings from The Horse and His Boy, by CS Lewis (Part 2)

The Horse and His Boy is a unique book in the Chronicles of Narnia series. In this book, all four main characters (two children and two horses) have spent most of their lives in Calormen, the pagan land to the south of Narnia. As a result, they have grown up knowing very little, if anything, about Aslan. When each of them meet him, their response is different, and yet meaningful. These scenes shed light on who Aslan is, and by extension, on the One he represents.

2. Bree (Breehy-hinny-brinny-hoohy-hah)

the meeting

Unlike Shasta, Bree has some knowledge of Narnia and Aslan, having been brought from Narnia to Calormen when he was still a young horse. He knows the name Aslan, and thinks he knows who he is, but is largely mistaken in his understanding. A meeting with Aslan reveals to him just how little he understands and humbles his misplaced pride in his knowledge.

Aravis asks Bree why it is that he swears "by the Lion" and "by the Lion's Mane" when in fact he hates lions. Bree replies:

"So I do...but when I speak of the Lion, of course I mean Aslan, the great deliverer of Narnia who drove away the Witch and the Winter. All Narnians swear by him".

"But is he a lion?" [asks Aravis]

"No, no, of course not," said Bree in a rather shocked voice.

"All the stories about him in Tashbaan say he is," replied Aravis. "And if he isn't a lion, why do you call him a lion?"

"Well, you'd hardly understand that at your age...

While Bree is speaking, a large lion, Aslan himself, appears from behind. Bree cannot see him, but Aravis and Hwin do.

"No doubt," continued Bree, "when they speak of him as a lion, they only mean he's as strong as a lion or (to our enemies) as fierce as a lion. Or something of that kind. Even a little girl like you, Aravis, must see that it would be quite absurd to suppose he is a real lion. Indeed, it would be disrespectful. If he was a lion, he'd have to be a beast, just like the rest of us. Why!" (and here Bree began to laugh) "If he was a lion he'd have four paws, and a tail and Whiskers!...Aie, ooh, hoo-hoo! Help!"

For just as he said the word Whiskers one of Aslan's had actually tickled his ear...

Bree got such a fright he ran quickly as far away from him as he could, till he was stopped by a high wall. Hwin was the first to address Aslan, whose conversation I will discuss in a later post. After that, Aslan turned to Bree.

"Now Bree," he said, "you poor, proud, frightened Horse, draw near. Nearer still my son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch me. Smell me. Here are my paws, here is my tail, these are my whiskers. I am a true beast."

"Aslan," said Bree in a shaken voice, "I'm afraid I must be rather a fool."

"Happy the Horse who knows that while he is still young. Or the Human either."

what we can learn

There are a couple lessons we can learn from Bree. To begin with, we like Bree often have our own ideas of who God is and what he is like. These may be based on half-memories of things we've heard about him. Or, like Aravis, they may be based on rumours we have heard (the rumours of Aslan in Tashbaan of which she speaks make him out to be a dangerous demon in the shape of a lion).

When we come face to face with the truth about God, as revealed in his Word, and as we experience Him in our lives, we learn that most of what we thought we knew or assumed about him is untrue or only half true. He is something much greater, wilder, safer and more wonderful than we ever imagined.

When we realise this, we, along with Bree can only confess: "I'm afraid I must be rather a fool."

Aslan's reply to that is equally revealing. It echoes the words of Scripture that speak of foolishness and wisdom.

For consider your calling, brethren, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble; ²⁷ but God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong, ²⁸ and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are, ²⁹ so that no man may boast before God. But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God,³⁰ and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption, ³¹ so that, just as it is written, “Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Cor 1:27-31)

Happy the human who realises their foolishness in the eyes of an all wise God while he or she is still young.

The other thing this passage points to and reminds us of is what, from a human point of view, is the most foolish thing God could have done. And yet "the foolishness of God is wiser than the greatest wisdom of men". Like Bree, we would never have guessed it, but like Bree it is because we don't really understand God.

For Bree, it was unthinkable that the Lord of all Narnia could be a beast like him. For us, it is unthinkable that God would leave his power and throne in heaven, and come to earth as a mortal man. But that is exactly what he did. Jesus put of all his godhead, and put on full flesh and mortality, knowing he would suffer the most brutal form of suffering in that flesh.

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Phil 2:5-8)

I mentioned in the post on Shasta the scene where Jesus appeared resurrected to his disciples. They doubted that it was really him risen in a new human body. But he convinced them that he was not a ghost or some insubstantial human-like spirit. He proved this to them by eating food in front of them.

Thomas was missing from that reunion. In the same way that Bree refused to believe that Aslan was a real Lion, Thomas refused to believe that Jesus was really risen. I'm fairly sure CS Lewis had this passage in mind when he wrote the words "Here are my paws, here is my tail, these are my whiskers. I am a true beast."

And after eight days His disciples were again inside, and Thomas with them. Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, “Peace to you!” Then He said to Thomas, “Reach your finger here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing.” And Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Thomas, because you have seen Me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” (John 20:26-29)

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See Also (other reflections on HHB)

On first meeting Aslan (Shasta)
On first meeting Aslan (Aravis) 

Summer Challenge 1 
Summer Challenge 2 

Seeds, death and fruit

Here's a little something I've been meaning to pen (uh..finger?) for a while. It's rambly and not well thought out nor well edited. But I thought it appropriate.

I made this simple graphics set for Easter on TLC. The verse had come to me about a week before, and I thought it suitable. Little did I know how appropriate this verse would be at that time. I made and put up this siggy on the day before Good Friday. It just so happened that it was also the day after I was told I would not get the scholarship to Oxford. My world was turned upside down and I wrote my thoughts and feelings at that moment in the piece entitled "When a dream dies". When I put up this set, the irony that I should have chosen this particular verse was not lost on me - but I chose to ignore it. I even posted a disclaimer stating that it had nothing to do with my current circumstances, which was true to a degree. I hadn't chosen the verse because of my circumstances, and I didn't really want to know about or accept the truth of this verse as it might apply to me at that particular point.

Of course God doesn't always worry about what we want. And this verse - being his very own words holds truth whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. God was speaking to me even though I was reluctant to hear it. While literally, this verse is looking forward to Jesus as the seed which would die to bring new life, it seems that it is a universal truth (one God was kind enough to place in the very fabric of nature for us as an example): to create beauty, or an improved life, a kind of struggle or death must take place first. The caterpillar must struggle its own way out of a cocoon before it emerges as a beautiful butterfly, a woman must experience excruciating pain to bring forth a new human life, and a seed must be buried in the ground and die before it can emerge as a life-giving plant.

I had a dream. I'm not big on having dreams, and in the context of the world, it wasn't the most audacious dream; but this was mine - the one I wanted and I felt it had been given to me as a gift, along with hope. Then, out of the blue and unexpectedly the dream died. It was stolen away from me and I was left with doubt and uncertainty and anger along with much confusion. But I'd said all along that my dream was in God's hands, for him to do with as he pleases. It's hard not to snatch it back out of his hands when you realise that he wants to do something different with it that what you had planned. But I bore my grief, I was well supported, and though it was very tough, I had no choice but to accept and watch as the Lord took my dead dream and buried it. I appreciated the fact that this happened at Easter. I think it was the first time I understood what the disciples must have gone through. Like them, I could not see how anything good might come out of this, and yet now, as it was then, Jesus' words held true.

The death of a seed leads to fruit. So too with the death of my dream. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what that fruit is, but there are a few signs I'm already seeing. When we plant a dead seed, we cannot always tell what type of fruit the plant will bear. Sometimes, like with nut trees, the fruit resembles the seed. Other times, the fruit takes an appearance which is startlingly different. Looking at the seed alone, one cannot tell. What you can almost always predict, though, is that the plant will bear more fruit than the one seed that produced it. In other words, a seed might be useful in itself. For example, it may contain elements that would be useful in health or industry. Burying such a seed seems like a waste - until you realise that its death, will bring about more fruit, and perhaps additional benefits (such as leaves with even more uses than the seed itself).

My dream died and was buried, but two weeks later a sprout formed, and then a shoot, followed by a single fruit - a nut-type seed that was identical to my original dream. In essence, my dream was restored to me - brought back to life. But the death resulted in more than just a restored seed. This plant has leaves and flowers with properties I'm only beginning to discover. One of them, was that it bore a second seed. If I had not watched my dream die, another girl may have had hers die forever. But now there is an extra seed. Dead seeds can multiply, and more can enjoy their fruit.

Other results of my dream dying are a renewed faith in God's supremacy, strengthened friendships with those who suffered alongside me, and especially the confidence and knowledge that my dream is really what I want, and the future I should seek. Only when something is taken away from you, with the possibility of no return, do you fully learn how much it means to you. If I had doubts about my dream before it died, they have vanished. The plant my dream bore has produced at least three new fruits: faith, love and hope. Faith in God's supremacy, the love of friends who supported me, and the hope of a dream renewed, with the knowledge that it is a real dream and not some fleeting fancy.

Woah...that got a lot longer than I intended, I guess I should wrap things up. And what better way to do so, than with our Lord's own words:

"Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies,it produces much grain. He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also. If anyone serves Me, him My Father will honour." John 12:24-26

Thoughts from Sunday's Sermon

 Exodus 15:22-27 (NKJV, biblegateway.com)

So Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea; then they went out into the Wilderness of Shur. And they went three days in the wilderness and found no water. Now when they came to Marah, they could not drink the waters of Marah, for they were bitter. Therefore the name of it was called Marah.And the people complained against Moses, saying, “What shall we drink?” So he cried out to the LORD, and the LORD showed him a tree. When he cast it into the waters, the waters were made sweet.

As Christians we sometimes go through difficult times. Things are looking good; God may have just performed a miraculous miracle, then suddenly we find ourselves out in the wilderness and God seems to have abandoned us. We might find ourselves, is the Israelites did, in a place like Mara - a place which seems to promise refreshment and relief, yet when we bend down to take a sip of water, we find that it's a fraud. The water looks good to drink, but it is really bitter.

We go through various bitter periods in life. They hurt us and sting us, and we can't understand why God would allow this to happen. But he knows what he is doing. The Lord was teaching the Israelites to depend on him and not what the Wilderness offered. It was only he who could make the bitter sweet. And he did - in the most unexpected way.

So he cried out to the LORD, and the LORD showed him a tree. When he cast it into the waters, the waters were made sweet. 

A tree? The Lord told Moses to throw a tree in the water to make it sweet? Okay, maybe the translation's not quite accurate and it was a large branch - or a small sapling. But either way, God used something that seemed quite arbitrary, quite ordinary to remove the bitterness and replace it with sweetness. He has a habit of doing that. Of using the most unexpected person or event, to help us through our bitter experiences. It's a way of showing both his power and his love for us. The tree itself possessed no special properties with which it could sweeten water. This showed the Israelites that it was not nature, nor Moses' wisdom that cured the waters, but God's mighty strength which could use something useless, possibly even dead, to achieve his purpose.

There He made a statute and an ordinance for them, and there He tested them, and said, “If you diligently heed the voice of the LORD your God and do what is right in His sight, give ear to His commandments and keep all His statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you which I have brought on the Egyptians. For I am

the LORD who heals you.”

This was not the last test the Israelites would face, and not the last they would fail. Thank God that, as with the Israelites, he is willing to forgive us when we fail these tests. That despite the way we grumble at him, he still steps in, when the time is right, and makes the water's sweet.

A final thought. Perhaps it was not coincidence that the Lord used a tree to sweeten the waters of Mara. This was not the last time he would use a tree. There was another tree, this time a truly lifeless piece of wood, that would be used not only to sweeten the worst bitterness in our lives - that brought about by sin and death - but to bring life to all who will believe.

God's word is alive, and very little ever happens by coincidence. May the Waters of Mara remind us of this as we go through our daily life, with it's bitterness, difficulties and unexpected blessings.

Then they came to Elim, where there were twelve wells of water and seventy palm trees; so they camped there by the waters.