(Lewis always seems to get me blogging.)
We're watching Prince Caspian with Sofi this weekend. She went to bed halfway through and J and I stayed up to finish it-- even though we know we'll be woken at 6 sharp to finish it during breakfast tomorrow morning (the downside of having Family Movie Night on Friday nights is that we lose our Sat morning sleep-in time...) We just couldn't turn it off. Not that the movie itself is so riveting-- we spent a large portion of it moaning about how much better the book was. But these stories have always held for me a fascination unlike any other literature I've ever read. Although Tolkein's works run a close second. Every time I read/watch I uncover layer upon layer of meaning and teaching in them.
This time in particular I was struck by the final scene, when Peter reveals that Aslan has told him that he and Susan will not be returning to Narnia again. He says (in the movie-- can't remember exactly how the scene goes in the books) "we've learned what we can here and now we must go back". Then we see them walk through the doorway in the bright castle courtyard back onto the station platform in London. And there was this contrast I'd never noticed before. In Narnia there are epic battles and nobles Lords and Ladies and thousands of years of history during which they (the four Children) been revered as heroes and heroines. And in London there's fog and rain and soot and smells and loud trains. And they're kids. Just normal, ordinary kids. Wow. How just like life that is. We have our short moments where the veil seems to lift for a moment, like when we find our true loves, when our children are born and other times when God reveals Himself in unique ways. And then we must go back to Life. Ordinary Life. The long stretches of smog, smoke and smells in between those glimpses of glory. And yet those short glimpses give us hope that there is more to all this, more to hope for, something to long for.