I remember hearing once about a boy whose mother wrote a letter for him to C.S. Lewis, author of the children's series The Chronicles of Narnia, an allegory of the human struggle against sin and evil and the victory of Christ over them. The Christ figure is Aslan, who sacrifices himself to save one of the children, and then rises from the dead. In the letter, the mother explained that the nine year-old boy-- Laurence Krieg-- felt shame that he loved Aslan more than he loved Jesus. The boy feared he was worshiping idols.
Lewis responded quickly that Laurence "can't really love Aslan more than Jesus even if he feels that's what he's doing. For the things he loves Aslan for doing or saying are simply the things Jesus really did and said. So that when Laurence thinks he is loving Aslan, he is really loving Jesus: and perhaps loving him more than he ever did before."*
There are some Christians who are so afraid of God that they live as though they must earn his favor. Knowing deeply their inadequacy when compared to God's perfection, they attempt to make up for it with performance. The result is not a reduction of shame, but an increase in it. Observing the failures that inevitably come when attempting to live perfectly, they feel guilt and even begin to try harder. If so, a cycle of shame and effort ensues that ends in fatigue and failure.
We can learn this from a young age. I remember doing something wrong at school when I was a boy. I do not remember what it was, but I do recall distinctly the thought I had afterward. I told myself that I would never sin again. This was naive, of course, but it represented a way of looking at myself and God that does not fit with God's message of grace. I was telling myself that I would repair the damage I had done instead of resting in the comfort of Jesus saving me.
If we began to look at Jesus as the boy looked at Aslan, however, we would trust him enough to put aside this need to compensate for our failures, and find in the resulting peace that God really did come to save us. Of course, we will never experience enduring and real peace until we are with God in heaven or after his return, but we can find a part of it here. I certainly have not learned the lesson of grace completely, and revert back at times to the boy who would force himself to be perfect. Still, I find that when I think of Jesus today, he looks a lot more like Aslan than he ever did before.
*"What if I love Aslan More than Jesus? Lewis Answers an American Child's Distress." Response. Seattle Pacific University. Winter 2006. Vol. 29. No. 1. Web. 30 July 2014.
Lewis responded quickly that Laurence "can't really love Aslan more than Jesus even if he feels that's what he's doing. For the things he loves Aslan for doing or saying are simply the things Jesus really did and said. So that when Laurence thinks he is loving Aslan, he is really loving Jesus: and perhaps loving him more than he ever did before."*
There are some Christians who are so afraid of God that they live as though they must earn his favor. Knowing deeply their inadequacy when compared to God's perfection, they attempt to make up for it with performance. The result is not a reduction of shame, but an increase in it. Observing the failures that inevitably come when attempting to live perfectly, they feel guilt and even begin to try harder. If so, a cycle of shame and effort ensues that ends in fatigue and failure.
We can learn this from a young age. I remember doing something wrong at school when I was a boy. I do not remember what it was, but I do recall distinctly the thought I had afterward. I told myself that I would never sin again. This was naive, of course, but it represented a way of looking at myself and God that does not fit with God's message of grace. I was telling myself that I would repair the damage I had done instead of resting in the comfort of Jesus saving me.
If we began to look at Jesus as the boy looked at Aslan, however, we would trust him enough to put aside this need to compensate for our failures, and find in the resulting peace that God really did come to save us. Of course, we will never experience enduring and real peace until we are with God in heaven or after his return, but we can find a part of it here. I certainly have not learned the lesson of grace completely, and revert back at times to the boy who would force himself to be perfect. Still, I find that when I think of Jesus today, he looks a lot more like Aslan than he ever did before.
*"What if I love Aslan More than Jesus? Lewis Answers an American Child's Distress." Response. Seattle Pacific University. Winter 2006. Vol. 29. No. 1. Web. 30 July 2014.
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