In C.S. Lewis’ book, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Lewis
sets up the scene for the soon-to-be encounter between Aslan and the
children (descendents of adam and daughters of eve). Lucy doesn’t
know much about this Aslan, so she asks the talking animals of Narnia:
sets up the scene for the soon-to-be encounter between Aslan and the
children (descendents of adam and daughters of eve). Lucy doesn’t
know much about this Aslan, so she asks the talking animals of Narnia:
“Is — is he a man?”
“Aslan
a man!”said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you
he is the King of the wood and the son of the great
Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of the
Beasts? Aslan is a lion — THE Lion, the great Lion.”
a man!”said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you
he is the King of the wood and the son of the great
Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of the
Beasts? Aslan is a lion — THE Lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he —
quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That
you will, dearie, and no mistake,”said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone
who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re
either braver than most or else just silly.”
you will, dearie, and no mistake,”said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone
who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re
either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then He isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr.
Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said
anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s
good. He’s the King. I tell you.”
Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said
anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s
good. He’s the King. I tell you.”
The Lion isn’t safe but He is good.
In Shane Claiborne’s book The Irresistible
Revolution, he says, “Most [of us] don’t shudder anymore when they
think of [the lion]; it has grown too ordinary and stale…” But
inside explodes a joy to know that I still shudder in understanding
that His compassion outstretches over the Vietnamese and the beggars
who weakly fold their hands saying “xin giup” [help please], the
prostitutes who nightly enter the first floor bedrooms of our hotel and
leave 20 minutes later, over the waitresses that serve me iced tea
instead of hot, over all the hundreds of moped drivers honking at one
another in the streets of Saigon, over the politicians who speak idlely
into hopelessness and even over those men who buy into perverse
intimacy; those who enter those same first floor bedrooms.
Revolution, he says, “Most [of us] don’t shudder anymore when they
think of [the lion]; it has grown too ordinary and stale…” But
inside explodes a joy to know that I still shudder in understanding
that His compassion outstretches over the Vietnamese and the beggars
who weakly fold their hands saying “xin giup” [help please], the
prostitutes who nightly enter the first floor bedrooms of our hotel and
leave 20 minutes later, over the waitresses that serve me iced tea
instead of hot, over all the hundreds of moped drivers honking at one
another in the streets of Saigon, over the politicians who speak idlely
into hopelessness and even over those men who buy into perverse
intimacy; those who enter those same first floor bedrooms.
I
shudder because the Lion is both good and not safe, and that somehow we
both love Him like a child and fear Him reverently. I shudder
because an all-good Lion comes to offer rest and compassion to those of
any state, any condition.
shudder because the Lion is both good and not safe, and that somehow we
both love Him like a child and fear Him reverently. I shudder
because an all-good Lion comes to offer rest and compassion to those of
any state, any condition.
But He has a fierce roar to which we’ve welcomed deaf ears. And
to this I also shudder because it’s the call of the Lion — and he asks
us to do as he does if we choose to walk in his pack. How can I
ignore the roar of the Lion? A lion roars when his pack is being
threatened and when predators are near lurking in the darkness.
The roar isn’t absent of purpose or reason and its mouth doesn’t open
without knowing that there are ears that hear it.
to this I also shudder because it’s the call of the Lion — and he asks
us to do as he does if we choose to walk in his pack. How can I
ignore the roar of the Lion? A lion roars when his pack is being
threatened and when predators are near lurking in the darkness.
The roar isn’t absent of purpose or reason and its mouth doesn’t open
without knowing that there are ears that hear it.
He is not insipid or docile. He isn’t safe but is good. Do we know this Lion or have forgotten who He is?
Maybe we should ask ourselves the last time we shuddered with joy?
