This will sound strange, given how much I analyze and criticize The Chronicles of Narnia, but I’ll say it, anyway:
For its many flaws, it’s still a pretty darn good series to read.
Narnia is not only fabulously written but also full of magic, wonder and excitement—along with talking animals, a talking lion, and many good parallels between Christ and the God-Lion of Narnia, to boot.
But if you read it, I think you need to read it with your eyes wide open and your Bible and reason at the ready.
The Bible warns us not to blindly accept whatever we’re told, but to consider what we believe and why we believe it—and, on the heels of that, to consider our response to it.
Only simpletons believe everything they’re told! The prudent carefully consider their steps. (Proverbs 14:15)
The word “prudent” means “acting with or showing care and thought for the future.” And since theology often shapes the course of our lives, I think it’s good for us to be careful about what we allow into our minds and affect us over the long haul.
And one of the best ways we do that is by comparing media with what’s written in the Bible.
But as far as I know, many Narnia fans and Christian media critics who carefully examine or review the series pretty much never discuss the concerning parts of Narnia’s theology. Even Focus on the Family’s Plugged In, which has reviewed all three Narnia movies and all seven books, raises zero warning flags about the theology in the books.
This seems to be a recurring problem with a lot of Narnia reviews and fans: Many don’t take a critical look at the messages about God written in those books.
Why not? Are people so wowed by Aslan that they don’t look critically at him? Or is it something else?
Whatever it is, this is a recurring problem I feel the need to address.
For the most part, Dr. Geoff Waugh in his book Discovering Aslan does a great job at describing the parallels between Christ and Aslan. As I read this book, I found many of my own discoveries of Narnia confirmed, plus things I might not have discovered were it not for this book. If you’re looking for a companion guide to Narnia, I’d say this is definitely worth buying—especially if you have Kindle Unlimited.
But when I review media, I typically look for the weakest parts of it, so that I can see the most concerning things that I may be in for. It’s like rating a film by its most violent or explicit content: It lets people know if something is beyond what they’re willing to see.
Discovering Aslan doesn’t do this. It thoroughly discusses the many good parallels between Christ and Aslan, but says little to nothing about their differences. The way Dr. Waugh handles five of the most telling and important passages in Narnia is concerning at best.
(i) LWW, the conversation with the Beavers
“Is he—quite safe?” said Susan. “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.”
“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.” (146)
At face value, Lewis’s words tell us that God is a terror and a danger to pretty much everybody. (And this gets confirmed again and again throughout Narnia.)
Waugh mentions this conversation in his book—even quoting a sample of it—but he proceeds to compare Aslan and Jesus as follows:
Similarly, Jesus here on earth was not safe but he was good.
But look at how Dr. Waugh describes Jesus. Read it carefully, word for word. This confirms that Aslan and Jesus are “unsafe” in wildly different ways.
[Jesus’] goodness clashed with badness. Many people opposed him and he survived many assassination attempts. Two kings wanted to kill him. People in his own village of Nazareth were so angry with him they nearly pushed him over a cliff. Mobs in Jerusalem tried to stone him more than once. Religious and political leaders plotted to kill him many times. Eventually they did kill him. But Jesus chose the time, the place and the method.
Jesus astonished people, even his disciples. He was often angry with them and disappointed in their lack of faith. When they stopped others from freeing people from evil spirits in Jesus’ name or wanted to call down fire on Samaritans, Jesus rebuked them. When the disciples stopped children from coming to him, he stopped the disciples. When they argued about who was the greatest, he put a child among them and told them to be like a child. When they still argued about greatness at the Last Supper, his last night with them before he died, he shocked them by washing their feet as a humble servant. (loc. 473)
That sums up Jesus very well.
But except for death in the place of a traitor, being angry with his subjects (albeit for different reasons) and calling children to himself, we see none of this in Narnia.
Aslan is a lion who terrifies everybody except a few brave or foolish souls. One of his own subjects testified that Aslan is dangerous. Encounters with Aslan are filled with fear and trembling, not to mention Aslan’s growls when he hears something he doesn’t like.
Furthermore, Aslan doesn’t even do or experience half the things Jesus did.
Aslan never acts like a servant.
Narnians don’t try to shove him off a cliff.
There are no religious zealots in Narnia plotting to kill Aslan.
Jadis and Tash don’t tempt Aslan in the sands of Calormen.
Aslan and Christ are radically different when it comes to “safeness.” To compare Aslan’s terror and danger with Christ’s countercultural and out-of-the-box life is like comparing Pennywise with Ronald McDonald.
(ii) LWW, the first encounter with Aslan
“[A]s for Aslan himself, the Beavers and the children didn’t know what to do or say when they saw him. People who have not been in Narnia sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time. If the children had ever thought so, they were cured of it now. For when they tried to look at Aslan’s face they just caught a glimpse of the golden mane and the great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then they found they couldn’t look at him and went all trembly.” (168–169)
To Dr. Waugh’s credit, I will say that he mentions how the children become “trembly” (loc. 577). But he seems to explain it away:
We can reflect how people felt awe in the presence of Jesus but He gladly welcomed them and had compassion for them.
Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 19:14).
Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28).
But when He saw the multitudes, He was moved with compassion for them, because they were weary and scattered, like sheep having no shepherd (Matthew 9:36).
And when Jesus went out He saw a great multitude; and He was moved with compassion for them, and healed their sick (Matthew 14:14).
And when I saw Him, I fell at His feet as dead. But He laid His right hand on me, saying to me, “Do not be afraid; I am the First and the Last. I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore …” (Revelation 1:17-18)
(loc. 582)
But compare that to the way Aslan rules, and the differences become more stark.
At first, the Pevensies tremble. Shortly after, Aslan seems to take away some of their fear (i.e., he takes “the fidgets out of them,” which isn’t exactly the same as putting them completely at ease). After that, he says that all will be set right, “but it may be harder than you think” (169).
Yes, they do see flickers of compassion in Aslan—but then later, they have more than enough reason to tremble and be anxious all over again.
(“Terrible paws,” thought Lucy, “if he didn’t know how to velvet them!”) (169)
“So that’s how you came to imagine yourself a Queen—because you were the Emperor’s hangman. I see.”
“Peace, Beaver,” said Aslan with a very low growl. (175)
“Oh, Aslan!” whispered Susan in the Lion’s ear. “Can’t we—I mean, you won’t, will you? Can’t we do something about the Deep Magic? Isn’t there something you can work against it?”
“Work against the Emperor’s Magic?” said Aslan, turning to her with something like a frown on his face. And nobody ever made that suggestion to him again. (176)
Of course everyone was dying to ask him how he had arranged matters with the Witch; but his face was stern and everyone’s ears were still ringing with the sound of his roar and so nobody dared. (177)
We’ve got growling, roaring, intimidating into submission, verbally chewing out a girl who whispers a question into his ear.
And except for the mention of Aslan’s “terrible paws” (and the subsequent comparison to Christ’s power), Dr. Waugh doesn’t talk about any of this.
(iii) Prince Caspian, Trumpkin meets Aslan
“And now!” said Aslan in a much louder voice with just a hint of roar in it, while his tail lashed his flanks. “And now, where is this little Dwarf, this famous swordsman and archer, who doesn’t believe in lions? Come here, Son of Earth, come HERE!”—and the last word was no longer a hint of a roar but almost the real thing.
This is an excellent parallel between lions in the real world. When they lash their tails like that, it’s not a good sign.
Aslan pounced. … The Dwarf, hunched up in a little, miserable ball, hung from Aslan’s mouth. The Lion gave him one shake and all his armour rattled like a tinker’s pack and then—hey-presto—the Dwarf flew up in the air. He was as safe as if he had been in bed, though he did not feel so. As he came down the huge velvety paws caught him as gently as a mother’s arms and set him (right way up, too) on the ground.
“Son of Earth, shall we be friends?” (386–387)
Dr. Waugh doesn’t talk about this scene, though.
(iv) The Silver Chair, Jill’s conversation with Aslan at the stream:
“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.
“I’m dying of thirst,” said Jill.
“Then drink,” said the Lion.
“May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
“Will you promise not to—do anything to me, if I do come?” said Jill.
“I make no promise,” said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
“Do you eat girls?” she said.
“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.
“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.
“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”
“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.
It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion—no one who had seen his stern face could do that—and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn’t need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst at once. Before she tasted it she had been intending to make a dash away from the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be on the whole the most dangerous thing of all. (557–558)
So Aslan not only terrifies Jill with his power and severity, but also reinforces that fear and does nothing to alleviate it.
But when Dr. Waugh chimes in on this passage, there’s no mention of Jill’s terror and Aslan’s reinforcement of that terror.
Instead, he just says:
He calls her to come. She must trust him, and obey him. She drinks deeply and is immediately refreshed. (loc. 1616)
…Wow.
Words fail me. This scene with Aslan and Jill contains some of the most important things about Aslan’s character. This is one of the most famous passages in Narnia. And yet, essential as they are, they hardly get mention in Discovering Aslan. There’s no mention of why Jill has to trust Aslan, or all the fear that Aslan is triggering in her. Instead, we get a synopsis stripped of critical details.
After Jill quenches her thirst, Aslan gives Jill her task, along with four signs she has to remember. She doesn’t get the four signs right away, and he has to work with her and be patient with her as she struggles to retain them.
“Child,” said Aslan in a gentler voice than he had yet used, “perhaps you do not see quite as well as you think. But the first step is to remember. Repeat to me, in order, the four signs.”
Jill tried and didn’t get them quite right. So the Lion corrected her, and made her repeat them again and again till she could say them perfectly. He was very patient over this, so that when it was done, Jill plucked up the courage to ask:
“Please, how am I to get to Narnia?” (559)
Did you catch that? Aslan let Jill stew in her fears this long! And it’s only now that she works up the courage to ask him something.
Aside from that, this excerpt bothers me because I see Aslan putting undue pressure on Jill to remember these things.
There’s no equivalent to the Holy Spirit guiding us into all truth (John 16:13).
There’s no promise that Aslan will help her and be gentle with her if she ends up forgetting.
There’s not even a memo with the four signs on it. (Surely he could have magicked that into existence or at least let her take notes, right?)
But Dr. Waugh says nothing about this, either. Instead, he says:
Aslan gives Jill instructions that she must remember. It is easy for her to remember Aslan’s word in his presence but much harder to remember later on when she is distracted by other things. (loc. 1659)
“Easy for her to remember”?
No, it’s not! It takes him multiple tries to teach her the words and get them through her head!
(v) The Horse and His Boy, Aravis’s attack and torture:
One of the most terrible noises in the world, a horse’s scream, broke from Hwin’s lips. Aravis was stooping low over Hwin’s neck and seemed to be trying to draw her sword. And now all three—Aravis, Hwin and the lion—were almost on top of Shasta. Before they reached him the lion rose on its hind legs, larger than you would have believed a lion to be, and jabbed at Aravis with its right paw. Shasta could see all the terrible claws extended. Aravis screamed and reeled in the saddle. The lion was tearing her shoulders. Shasta, half mad with horror, managed to lurch towards the brute. He had no weapon, not even a stick or a stone. He shouted out, idiotically, at the lion as one would at a dog, “Go home! Go home!” For a fraction of a second he was staring right into its wide-opened, raging mouth. Then, to his utter astonishment, the lion, still on its hind legs, checked itself suddenly, turned head over heels, picked itself up, and rushed away.
Shasta did not for a moment suppose it had gone for good. He turned and raced for the gate in the green wall which, now for the first time, he remembered seeing. Hwin, stumbling and nearly fainting, was just entering the gate; Aravis still kept her seat but her back was covered with blood. (272–273)
Wow.
So Aslan attacks and tortures a 13-year-old girl who had drugged her stepmother’s slave and, albeit indirectly, sentenced the girl to 10 lashes with a whip.
And Dr. Waugh mentions this scene, but he doesn’t expound upon it. He doesn’t provide any Biblical justification, nor draw a parallel to Christ, nor offer any Biblical critique of Aslan’s action.
It makes me wonder: Does he think Aslan did the right thing? Unless Dr. Waugh answers that, the question will remain open.
I think if you call a book Discovering Aslan, you need to address the core aspects of Aslan’s character, as well as the scenes that show it in full force. You’ve got to face them squarely and compare them with the Bible, showing their similarities and differences. Staying silent about them or eviscerating their details is unfair to people who may not have read Narnia before but may do so.
And make no mistake: There are quite a few Christians, and even some Narnia fans, who haven’t read the books. All they have to go on is what they’ve seen in the movies or learned by hearsay, and many of them may be compelled to read the Chronicles (which is great) but they may not know the theology they can expect (which is not so great).
Consider this testimonial from the book:
Maybe it’s just me, but I think people in that position need to know what they’re getting themselves in for—or, at the very least, be ready to compare what’s written in Narnia (or any other Christian media) with what’s written in Scripture.
That’s what I’m doing. That’s what I’m encouraging people to do.
When I started Ex-Narnian earlier this month, I had three goals at the fore of my mind:
- answering tough ideas on both sides of the wardrobe;
- chronicling my journey through an extreme crisis of faith; and
- offering a critical-but-fair look at Narnia.
On our side of the wardrobe, I see very few critics of Narnia—and even fewer people giving its theology a thorough analysis. For some reason, many who review and explain the series are silent about the most concerning passages.
In fact, besides Paul Ellis’s post “Grace and Law in the Chronicles of Narnia,” I don’t know of any other Christian blog or blogger that is challenging the theology of Narnia.
But that’s not my main problem. My main problem is that many who analyze and discuss Narnia in-depth don’t discuss it as thoroughly and as honestly as I think is needed.
Discovering Aslan is an excellent guide to the many parallels between Aslan and Christ—but it says too little about who Aslan really is. By saying so little about the most fundamental aspects of Aslan’s character and the most troubling scenes in Narnia, Dr. Waugh’s book doesn’t present as complete a picture of Aslan as I had hoped for.
Ex-Narnian 