Summary: I am preaching a series on Narnia during advent/ including Christmas eve to explore the Christian symbolism of this story.
“Aslan is on the Move”
Rev. Scott Lohse
Hello, My name is Lucy Pevensie and now I dwell in the land beyond the sea (which I have since come to know as heaven) but I was just a youngster living in Britain during the second World War when the story I want to share with you all began. The adventure began when my parents sent me, along with my bothers and my sister to the home of an old family friend where they felt we would all be safer because it was away from the city where the Germans had recently begun dropping bombs.
From where I am living now I, naturally, understand things much better than when I was a little girl and it seems to me that being safe and feeling safe are actually two different things entirely. There may not be anywhere in the world – except in the world where I live now of course – where a person is really totally safe, but if the conditions are right, a person can come to feel safe or secure in any place. I suppose I should just say it right out: what I mean is that in the presence of Aslan (which is the name we know Jesus by in Narnia) I have never felt unsafe though it has been said of him (Aslan that is) that he is not safe but he is good. What that means, I think, is that while in his presence even though you may actually be in real danger you may trust that he will never allow any real harm to befall you.
I noticed, for example, in one of the major newspapers of one of your major cities that a survey was recently conducted which reported which are the safest cities to live and which cities are the most unsafe. As I recall, ironically enough, a place named for a Saint called Louis was dubbed to be near the top of the list of unsafe places to live.
Does that mean that everyone in that town ought to evacuate immediately, or that they should all go inside and bolt their doors and never venture out? I think not. It seems to me that a person could just as easily fall out of a tree as be attacked on a busy street corner, and if either one or both of them perished from the tragedy it would not be the worst that could have happened to them. I don’t want to seem callous or, for that matter, to ruin the story for you in case you should decide to read about it but I will tell you that eventually what I have just described happened to me. I died in a train wreck and I have no real recollection of it, certainly no regret or remorse. All that I know is that I suddenly found myself in a perfectly joyful place near where I am now, and where I will dwell for eternity so far as I know. In this place there is never any thought about whether a person is safe or not and Aslan/the Lord is in plain view every day. What could be better? But I have forgotten that I have not really told you all about Aslan yet. I will, though, because telling about him is actually all I live for these days. But, I must tell you about some other things first.
With all of the reckless abandon of typical children my brothers and sister and I tore about the cavernous house of the professor one afternoon when we were really bored and on our own. In our day there were no video games or X-boxes (whatever that is) to occupy ourselves with. We had only our imagination and our youthful energy to entertain ourselves with. I don’t want to seem too old fashioned but I think it was much better that way. Imagination is the gift of our youth which grown-ups don’t seem to have much time to bother with and it really is a shame.