Who Is Calling Whom? Lessons from Narnia

“Speak your thought, Human Child,” said the Lion.

“I was wondering—I mean—could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to—to Somebody—it was a name I wouldn’t know—and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the door open.”

“You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you,” said the Lion.

“Then you are Somebody, Sir?” said Jill.

“I am.”
~ from The Silver Chair, C. S. Lewis

God called Abram to swap his nationality for a new patriotism in an unknown world. God called Moses to leave Egypt for a magical land flowing with milk and honey. Jesus called his disciples to “Follow me” to places they couldn’t imagine.

What does God call me to do? You to do? For starters: He calls us to be His. To be saints—sacred ones, set apart for His use.

Then we, in turn, call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ—leaving behind thoughts of earthly things and setting our minds instead on things above, in a new realm, a new kingdom.

He calls us; we call Him. We find the door open, and Somebody lets us in.

“...to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ...”
~ 1 Corinthians 1:2

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”
~ Colossians 3:2,3

“The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come.’ And let the one who hears say, ‘Come.’ And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.”
~ Revelation 22:17

If we could see the difference...

Yes, the small things...

"I strongly suspect that if we saw all the difference even the tiniest of our prayers make,
and all the people those little prayers were destined to affect,
and all the consequences of those prayers down through the centuries,
we would be so paralyzed with awe at the power of prayer that we would be unable to get up off our knees for the rest of our lives.”

--Peter Kreeft, Professor of Philosophy, Boston College

A small thing.

He is so sick; his skin looks awful. I wish I could do something. Why am I thinking like that? He killed my family and brought me here.

His wife is good to me and I like doing things for her. His illness must sadden her. I wonder if she would listen?

They have the weirdest ideas about ‘god.’ ‘Rimmon’, they call him and ‘Hadad’. They claim he is the god of storms. He goes into that temple with the king to worship the silent, still ‘god’ made by men. Why would he listen about some other god? Why would he care about YHWH?

I dare not try and talk to him, he is too important and too busy. He talks to his king all the time about war and fighting and political things. He is too important for me to bother. Perhaps, if I tell his wife she will tell him. But what good would that do? Why would she listen to a girl, and a foreigner at that? Slaves, like children, are to be seen, not heard. And why would he listen to her anyway? She is just a woman.

Why am I even thinking like this? It is none of my concern. What is the tug I feel in my heart? What can I do anyway? Why am I having trouble sleeping – waking up thinking of him and his illness?

It would be just a small thing, just a short suggestion. I guess this will never leave me alone unless I tell her. Who knows; she may just ignore me?

What words can I use? How can I say it quickly and convincingly?
“If only my master were with the prophet who is in Samaria! For he would heal him of his leprosy.”
Where did those words come from? They are perfect! Short and to the point. Somehow, I really believe he will be cured. Where did I get that idea? Before I was brought here, I remember seeing many people with this illness but none of them were cured by the prophet. Still, I really believe my master will be cured.

She listened to me, and she told him! My very words! Well, not really my words, but words that came into my head. He told the king!

He is going!

He is back and he is cured! He looks so healthy. His skin looks better than mine – so clear and clean. My mistress is smiling like she never has before. She even smiled at me.

He is telling her about the muddy little river and about deciding to swallow his pride and walk into the water. What did he tell her? It sounded like, “Indeed, now I know that there is no God in all the earth, except in Israel.” What did he say about the dirt in the mules’ packs? I couldn’t hear that.

His servants are excited and nervous. They said something about him promising to worship YHWH. Will there be two of us now?

He has called for me! I am to tell him about YHWH.

A small thing?

Really?

~ Posted by Ed Ditto

Is God on Vacation?

Last Sunday in Harvest, Alabama, they loaded god into an elaborately-decorated chariot. The short street along his route ahead was swept clean for his journey by the highest-ranking official present, Governor Bhandare of the state of Orissa in east India.

Where was he going? For a week’s visit to his old home, Auntie’s House, the old Church of Christ building a hundred yards away, remodeled several years ago into a Hindu temple before the larger temple was built in 2005.

Think of it as god’s yearly summer vacation. You go to the beach; he goes to Auntie’s House. Then when time is up, he’ll get back into the chariot for his ride back home, and in a ritual descent, enter the newer temple again.

But not without grief, for he left the wife at home during this vacation. And she’ll be none too pleased with him when he returns. She’ll shut the door in his face, and he’ll have to bribe the female gate-keepers before he can reenter their dwelling.

In the Hindu religion, this Festival of Chariots (Ratha Jatra) is wildly popular. The people celebrate in the streets, thrilled with the opportunity to glimpse their god outside of his inner sanctum. They are ecstatic as he rides past them in his chariot.

But I wasn’t there last Sunday to see his chariot go by. I was at another famous festival. A Christian one. One we gather for every Sunday.

We, too, celebrate that our God, Yahweh God, the One God, stepped out of His inner sanctum to come live in ours. We, too, are ecstatic that He journeyed away from His heavenly palace to enter our dusty streets so we could see Him.

But it’s no summer vacation for Him. He has taken up permanent residency in our hearts. His temple is our bodies. We have the pleasure of His presence every second, every day, all year round. In the Christian religion, how much more we have to celebrate!

For God “who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything” (Acts 17:24,25).

Because we are His living, breathing offspring, we know His divine being is not “like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by heart and imagination of man” (Acts 17:29).

Every day is a festival in Christ!

Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting!
And let all the people say, “Amen!” Praise the LORD!
~ Psalm 106:48

Move the Dirt

Nine times in the history of Earth people have come back to life and then died again (ten if you count Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones). Have you ever wondered about those people?

What would I do?

Join me as I imagine.

I die, there is a funeral, a grave is filled and, like the Thief, I am in Paradise.

The Thief and I are introducing ourselves along with a man named Lazarus and a young girl who says her dad is Jairus. Suddenly, we are joined by an angel. “Ed, you are wanted back on Earth – back in your old body – alive again.”

“Who wants me?”

“Paul, Elijah, Elisha and Ezekiel.”

“No, thank you. Please tell them that I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”

Gently, from the angel, “Peter asked for you by name.”

“WOW! I am truly honored that an Apostle, Peter, would call my name, but look around at this place. Have you ever been to Earth? Please tell Peter, that I respect him greatly, but I don’t want to go back.”

The angel is gone.

The Thief, Lazarus, the girl, and I are together again. Both Lazarus and the young girl, with knowing looks, tell me “You will go.”

A strong yet gentle soft voice; “Ed, come forth!” It is the voice of the only One to whom I cannot say “No.” It is the voice of the One who, as He is asking me to do, left this place and came to the Earth (that He created). He knows exactly what He is asking. He has earned the right to ask me to come back.

“I am coming but it is scary. What happens when I fail while I am there this time? I am so safe here and so vulnerable there. I will be like I was. I will sin there. I will disobey You again. I will have to die again. I thought all that was past.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I have not changed, Ed, my grace was sufficient for before and it will be sufficient for now.”

“Tell them to move the dirt.”

“They already have.”

~ Posted by Ed Ditto

What is God singing? (and other random thoughts in the night)

It’s 3:13 a.m.
It’s dark.
And I’m wide awake.

My mind bounces. Barrion’s provoking questions from class last night continue to demand answers. Why do I study the Bible? Why don’t I study the Bible? Wish I had heard Clyde sing his solo in class last week:

“No one ever cared for me like Jesus;

There's no other friend so kind as He.
No one else could take the sin and darkness from me;
O how much He cared for me.”

I sing words in my head from last night’s 6:30 medley:

“...whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You”

“...find rest my soul in God alone”
“...to find our way in the darkest night, let Your light shine on us”

Stuart changed the words on You Are My Hiding Place to better reflect the scripture: “You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with songs of deliverance. ” ~ Psalm 32:7

So God is singing over me? Surrounding me with HIS songs?

I keeping hearing voice after voice. The teens: Adam working hard for Jesus in New Orleans. Stories of Cody knowing how to paint. Serving; growing; worshiping. Memories from Long Beach, MS: Charlene Tate singing Had It Not Been the Lord—“the water would have engulfed us.”

“The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”
~ Zephaniah 3:17

C.S. Lewis had Aslan sing Narnia into existence. But what does God’s singing voice sound like? A deep bass like James Earl Jones? Or maybe Jim Carrey (please, no)?

It’s 4:23 a.m.
Still dark.
Still awake.

Thoughts still flit. Will I ever go back to sleep? Will it rain tomorrow—oops, I mean, today? The e-mail from my sister: her friend visited Central on the 5th Sunday Family Night, and loved our singing and scripture sharing.

I hear His voice mingled amidst all these. But I’m listening for a solitary voice. And it’s not my own. It’s His. I want to hear His alone.

So just from Him, just to me, He sings me back to sleep this morning, with:

“I have called you by name, you are mine.”

~ Isaiah 43:1

He continues,

“I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”
~ Isaiah 43:3

And more,

“You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you.”
~ Isaiah 43:4

There is no sweeter sound than God singing over me.

It’s 5:28 a.m.
It’s light.
And I’m at rest.

--Lisa