‘The Chronicles of Narnia’: A Spiritual Journey In a world grown cold without wonder, how do you reimagine the drama and joy of Christianity? For C.S. Lewis, the answer was to invite us into a different world that would help us see this one with fresh eyes. That world was Narnia, and when Lewis wrote that world into existence, he created more than a story — he created the possibility for a moral and spiritual journey. “The Chronicles of Narnia” span seven books, each a narrative unto itself, that come together to form a larger whole. Lewis started writing these stories with “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” (published in 1950) because he had this image in his mind of a faun standing next to a lamppost, and he wanted to tell a story about that. In the course of writing that first story, it soon became a Christian story because he imagined what kind of redeemer a world like the one he was imagining would need. By the time he published the last book in the series (“The Last Battle,” 1956), he had managed to create an adventure filled with beloved characters that did not tell children the truths of Christianity but rather gave them images that would show children the beauty. He had only meant to write a story as a gift to his goddaughter, but he ended up creating one of the enduring classics of the 20th century. And since he wrote them for a child, these stories are, of course, appropriate for children. The kicker, though, is that they are inappropriate for anyone hopelessly convinced of their own sophistication. You have to be childlike to enjoy these chronicles, which also means that learning to enjoy them (or to enjoy them again) is an exercise of being restored to childlike wonder. Narnia is a place where the choices and actions, the desires and dispositions of children affect their own destinies and the fate of the world. It is a place where children learn what it means to grow in maturity, to become responsible and to develop character. They learn what it means to love the one who calls them into being and who gives them a mission in life — a mission that matters on the grandest scale. Above all, what children learn in Narnia is the importance of remaining childlike, and that means that Narnia is a place where adults can always start over in relearning what is all too quickly forgotten. You can read “The Chronicles of Narnia” at any time, but since the books immerse readers in sorting out true desires from false ones, strengthening the will and exercising courage, and becoming evermore responsive to the voice of the Creator and Redeemer, these stories are especially well-suited for the seasons of Lent and Easter. This doesn’t mean that reading children’s literature should take the place of prayer, fasting and almsgiving, or even that it’s a substitute for reading Scripture. Instead, engaging the Chronicles softens our defenses and opens up space within our hearts and minds for welcoming the joy of Christ, in whom the drama of all life bursts forth. This is especially important in a world grown cold without wonder. Leonard J. DeLorenzo, Ph.D., serves in the McGrath Institute for Church Life and teaches theology at the University of Notre Dame. His latest book is “What Matters Most: Empowering Young Catholics for Life’s Big Decisions” (Ave Maria Press, $16.95). How to make a spiritual journey through Narnia It takes no great insight to point out that relative to the Easter season, Lent gets the lion’s share of attention. There is program after program, book after book, blog post after blog post dedicated to making the most out of Lent, and then Easter comes and all that intentionality and focus scatters to the wind before the first week is through. So here’s a small idea: Why not take on a commitment — a practical and enriching exercise — that spans from the beginning of Lent to the end of Easter? Reading “The Chronicles of Narnia” can be such a commitment. Shutterstock Beginning the week in which Ash Wednesday falls (March 3-8) to the week that leads to Pentecost (June 2-8), there are 14 weeks total from Lent through Easter. There are seven books in the Narnia series. Reading one book every two weeks would mean reading a chapter or two every day. The practical considerations for taking on this commitment in liturgical time are therefore pretty straightforward: This is a commitment that requires regular but not burdensome attention. This commitment is more than a practical matter, though; it is also a potentially spiritual one. Reading “The Chronicles of Narnia” as a spiritual exercise does not mean being somber and stern-browed; it doesn’t mean reading without any enjoyment. What it does mean is doing more than just light reading and requires just a little more work. That work is the work of conscious reflection that might, at times, invite an examination of conscience and inform how you pray. The easiest and perhaps best way to move from light reading to spiritual reading is to do two simple things. First, to keep a reading journal and second, to engage with a reflection partner or small group. The point of a reading journal is to foster regular, habitual reflection on the moral and spiritual themes running through each of the chronicles. Since there are between 15 and 17 chapters in each of the seven books, I would suggest taking about 20 minutes every four chapters or so to journal about the key instances where someone’s character is tested, or a moral decision is made, or a spiritual insight emerges. You can also just copy down any especially telling lines or paragraphs. You might ask yourself, “What is at stake in what’s going on?”, “How are the characters growing or changing?”, and “What fears and hopes are motivating their actions?” Then at the end of each book, take 30 or 60 minutes to write out your own spiritual reflection on the story. You might think about what sorts of spiritual qualities or character development this particular journey through Narnia has called forth. And you might reflect on those things in your own life. The point of having a reflection partner or small group is to allow this spiritual journey through Narnia to become a communal endeavor. If a couple or several adults (including teens and young adults) agree to read the books on a common schedule (again, one book every two weeks, beginning the week of March 3 and concluding with Pentecost), then joining together for substantive discussions after each book would be time well-spent. The basis for these conversations can be the reading journals each person keeps. Literary insights, personal resonances and liturgical connections may all follow suit. What you might find while journeying through Narnia Though it is always an act of injustice to a story (at least a good story) to say, “This is what it is about … “, it may still be helpful to briefly name some of the broader themes to be attentive to when reading through “The Chronicles of Narnia” as a spiritual journey. And please note, the following order is definitely the order in which you should read the books! These themes are all intentionally broad since the point of a spiritual journey is not to unlock some secret code. It is not the case that we are meant to decipher these stories to find the real or hidden message, and then move along as if the story was only a carrier for the thing that really mattered. All too often we treat literature, and Scripture, and even other people like that — as if there is something for “me” to “get from it” rather than something or someone to encounter. The motivation to just “get something from it” is not conducive to having our wonder awakened, our desires stirred, our consciences challenged or our gratitude enkindled. It is also a good reminder that “The Chronicles of Narnia” are not intended to deliver doctrinal claims outright but rather to woo and inspire us by a way of seeing a world — a different world called Narnia — that allows us to become somehow different than how we were before. Lessons and proclamations rarely accomplish such a feat on their own; stories often lead the way. Why children and adults have something to find together in Narnia Unlike many other forms of spiritual reading that people might take on for Lent or Easter, there is an opportunity with the chronicles to form a special kind of reading community: one between adults and children. Taking up the practice of reading these books to or with children, especially during the liturgical seasons of Lent and Easter, will provide ample and precious opportunities for conversations about hope, adventure, fear, selfishness, generosity, trust, faith, responsibility, conversion and moral choices. Lewis’s own hope for writing these stories was, as he had Aslan say to Lucy in “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” that “by knowing me [Aslan] for a little while here [in Narnia], you may know me better there [in your own world].” In other words, Narnia is a land with a narrative and a redeemer that allows the childlike to better imagine this world and this life as ones that matter, because our world and our lives do in fact have a redeemer who is even now working in and among us. Far from being just for the benefit of children, this kind of reading community also benefits adults.