Thursday, December 29, 2016

The Defeat of Disenchantment

              As 2016 grinds to a close, I admit that I am more than ready to bid it goodbye.  As a rule you shouldn't wish time away; later you may come to regret it.  This year feels like an exception, however.  It has been a hard slog of a year. I believe the long and torturous electoral year did much to wear me out mentally, but it has also been a year full of hardship and loss for many people.  I will personally be glad to put behind me the year that saw me diagnosed with kidney cancer and enduring the loss of one of the organs!

            Today I am reflective, though, because of all the people that have passed away this year.  Many of our families have experienced private losses, and many have just encountered their first holiday season without a loved one.  Even on the national stage, there has been an abnormally large number of celebrity deaths; most recently we were shocked by the passing of actress Carrie Fisher and, one day later, her mother Debbie Reynolds.  Of all the prominent deaths that have befallen us, I was most saddened by those of Carrie Fisher and Gene Wilder.  I say this because two inhabit such a prominent place in the fantasy world of my childhood imagination.

            Gene Wilder will always be, for me, the definitive Willy Wonka.  (That other movie, which will remain nameless, doesn’t even register on my scope.)  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was a wonderful, magical film for kids: the factory was virtually its own dimension full of things to delight children, and you can't get any better than the theme: a boy from a desperately poor family, but with an honest and noble heart, gains a treasure beyond his wildest imagining.  And while I was more interested in Luke Skywalker, Carrie Fisher's Princess Leia played an indispensable role in the world I constantly occupied in my young mind.  Every Christmas and birthday, my wish list consisted almost entirely of Star Wars toys.  So with the death of these two actors, it is almost as if some of my childhood fantasy world has vanished from existence. 

Have you experienced anything like this, when your idealized "happy place" seemed threatened or ruined?  When it happened, did you feel that the world was more of a dark, drab and somber place?  Times of unexpected hardship can do the same.  Life is filled with love and happiness; we think that misfortunes will come upon others, but never upon us.  Sooner or later, we discover we are like everyone else, not immune to difficulties.  The magical force field protecting us from hurt drops away.  We grow up, we experience disenchantment, and think that the simple wonder of childhood is forever lost to us.

In the last couple of days, however, I've been asking myself a question.  I think you should ask it, too.  Is this process of becoming joyless and disenchanted something to which I, as a child of God, should resign myself?  Is it really a mark of Christian “maturity” for me to become morose, to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders?  Is God really undertaking a program of removing all the joy and wonder from me by sending me difficulties--to prepare me for an eternity of joy and wonder in His Kingdom?  That would hardly seem to make sense, would it?  In fact, I seem to recall Jesus teaching that "unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3-4) We've just experienced the Christmas holiday, many of us with children or grandchildren nearby.  Have we not been reminded what the heart of a child is like?  A child's heart is full of simple trust in his parents and grandparents.  She also experiences exuberant joy and wonder in everything.  According to Jesus, that's just the sort of heart that qualifies one for the Kingdom of God.

C.S. Lewis, as a child, inhabited the fantasy worlds of his books.  Even as an adult, he became a professor of English literature so that he could share the wonder of epic stories and fairy tales with his students.  Yet ironically, as a young man he had decided he was too intelligent to believe in God any longer.  While that decision may have seemed enlightened, he was troubled by that sense of cynical disenchantment we have been discussing.  He experienced the horrors of World War I firsthand; this would definitely empty a person of a sense of life'’s basic goodness! Though he took refuge in the stories, life itself seemed grim and empty.  Into this void came his friendship with Hugo Dyson and J.R.R. Tolkien, two of his fellow “Inklings” who met at the Eagle and Child pub in Oxford.  Many long talks with these two devoted Christians helped Lewis to catch a wonderful revelation: that his fascination with an ideal world--fairy stories--was because in his heart of hearts, he knew that there had to be a better world than this one.  All of those fantastic myths that captured his imagination were compelling because they pointed to what they called “true myth”—-an epic tale of evil’'s defeat and the world’'s redemption by an ultimate King who would soon return.  What made this “true myth” so compelling was that it was no myth at all; —this story is true! Jesus did die and rise again so that the curse of sin would begin to unravel, and He is coming back to wipe out all evil and injustice.  He will bring in an eternal Kingdom full of that joy and wonder we thought was lost.

As we conclude our celebration of Christ'’s incarnation, please remember that with the birth of that holy Child, we witnessed the beginning of God’'s final victory over evil, the redemption of His children, and even the world itself.  In the meantime, it may seem that sins and sorrows grow—-that thorns continue to infest the ground.  I urge you to remember, though, that those appearances are deceiving.  They are the dying ragings of an ancient Enemy who has already been defeated and condemned. 

These epic stories are all expressions of a Master Story, a Gospel Story, that is absolutely true.  King Richard will return, ousting the usurper John, and Robin Hood will soon gain the rewards of his loyalty.  A century’'s winter will soon melt away from Narnia, and the life of an eternal spring will burst forth.  Aslan'’s breath will stir the stones back to life, and four children will rule in his stead from the castle of Cair Paravel.  A foolish, little hobbit will carry the One Ring to its destruction in the fires of Mt. Doom, there will be a Return of the King, and the world will be reborn.  But the TRUE story is that the Son of God will come back for us.  There will be a New Heavens and a New Earth, on which will rest His eternal capital city, the New Jerusalem.  There you and I will rule beneath Him.  All the joy and wonder you carried as a child will return, hundreds of times over.  Even now, we can see these trouble-filled days with the eyes of faith.  We can remind ourselves that the emptiness and solemnity of life is trickery and shadow, a web of deception woven by an Enemy that would have us give up all for lost.  Stand on the true story which has been entrusted to you, and the disenchantment you have experienced with life'’s troubles can be re-enchanted once more.  With Jesus'’ eternal gift, reclaim the heart of a child.  I wish you a 2017 filled with joy, wonder, and God's love.

The Lord to End All Wars

  In the summer of 1914, the countries of Europe were drawn into war by a complex set of alliances. Though few of them relished the confli...