Live Like a Narnian

"If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."
-Daniel 3:17-18

So many conversations around faith seem to involve confidence that God will act in our situations in a certain way. 

But what if a mark of genuine faith is that we don't actually need to know what God will do? Or even more radically, what if it doesn't require God to do anything at all? Stay with me here. 

This weekend I taught on one of the most inspiring stories in the Old Testament from Daniel 3, and I'm still stuck on it. One phrase continues to profoundly impact me. It's the final statement that the three Hebrew men tell the death-dealing Babylonian king. Even though he's threatening to burn them to death for defying him, they reiterate that they won't bow to his unholy mixture of nationalized religion and power. 

And they say something along these lines: 
We certainly believe it's possible that God may deliver us from this. But even if he doesn't, we're still not changing how we live and how we believe. Our story is more beautiful than yours, and it always will be. 

That's my paraphrase, of course, but I think it's the spirit behind their statement.

"Even if he doesn't" is a life-transforming phrase. 
For me, it paints an understanding of following God as a way of life, not simply a list of beliefs. It suggests that God may or may not work the way we think. But it trusts one thing: regardless of exactly how we see the supernatural playing out, a life lived according to the character of God is worth living, no matter what.

I can't help but share again this story from The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. In the book The Silver Chair, the Green Witch has kidnapped a prince and plans to invade Narnia. A few children and a marsh-wiggle named Puddleglum go down to Underland to free him. But during the encounter, she seeks to enchant them all as well, trying to get them to doubt that Narnia, the sun, and even Aslan really exist. It's at this point that Puddleglum offers the witch a speech that deserves a place among the great monologues of literature: 

“All you’ve been saying is quite right, I shouldn’t wonder. I’m a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won’t deny any of what you said. But there’s one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play-world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we’re leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland."

Puddleglum is ready to live like a Narnian, even if Narnia doesn't exist. Woof! 

There's a lot these days that can cause me to wonder about how God works. I see a lot of pain. And selfishness and rage and greed are on display so prominently that there are pieces of me that are tempted to give up and stop caring. In fact (yes pastors have these thoughts too), sometimes I wonder if this whole Kingdom-of-God that Jesus talks about is even real. 

But.

I cannot shake that this way of life that I've learned from Jesus, who has taught me to forgive, to listen to others, to walk more gently, to hold my money loosely, to release my need to control others, to care about justice--I cannot shake that this world that Jesus painted "could lick the real world hollow," to quote our marsh-wiggle friend. 

Dare I say, I think I'd want to follow Jesus, even if I somehow learned Jesus wasn't real. Because his kingdom is far more real and true and beautiful than any nation, philosophy, or shiny thing that I've encountered so far. The story of a God who loves is the most beautiful story that's ever been told. The story of a church that cares for one another and goes out and loves the suffering and the excluded is better than a story that judges those exact same people and turns them into enemies. So I'm going to keep living in it. Even if Jesus doesn't show up how I'd like him to, I'm going to keep living in it. Even when God seems silent, I'm going to keep living in it. And even when the stories of selfishness and power and money and despair and rage all look attractive, I'm going to keep refusing to bow to them, with the help of my amazing community. 

I do believe God will continue to bring supernatural encouragement and salvation. I believe that God will bring good news to the poor and freedom for captives. But even if he doesn't in the way I want to see it, I will keep "living like a Narnian." Because this story is the most beautiful, and this kingdom is the most real. Where else could I go? 

Jesus, give me a vision of your world that is so compelling it's worth giving all of my life to, regardless of the outcome. 

Peace,
Keith ​