This Lenten season has been a time of turmoil, trial, and frustration for me. I’ve reached the end of this season with a specific sense that I have to stop with the rote praying of the Lord’s Prayer. Why? Because I don’t really mean it. My time of prayer became nothing more than just vain repetition.
My beliefs have shifted, but my mindset not entirely. It’s like the stable in Narnia’s The Last Battle. I left one group of dwarves for another. But nonetheless, I’d stayed in the stable, with my eyes closed to the wonder around me. And I discovered that the Pentecostals are for the Pentecostals. The Baptists are for the Baptists. The Methodists are for the Methodists. In truth, The Dwarves are for the Dwarves!
I’ve spent too much time stuck in the stable, getting mere glimpses of the wonder surrounding us in Christ. But that’s the problem of denominational and institutional Christianity. It’s a bunch of stables. And the groups inside don’t play well together. We’ve walked ourselves off from the rest because we want only our experience, no matter how we define it, to be considered valid.
But Jesus is calling us, beckoning us ever more, to go further up, and further in. Reepicheep says it. Fledge says it. Lucy says it. Aslan says it. Many throughout The Last Battle say it. And it beckons us into a journey that’s without end. Ever expanding in its relationship and knowledge of Him.
I want to leave the stable. I want to go further up, and further in. Though I leave behind my friends and family in doing so, I must.
That does not mean it doesn’t hurt, always being told I’m going back into old Narnia. That I’m taking my Christianity to drive through style salvation. But that is apparently the risk I’ve got to take. I can’t change anyone’s mind. I can only move on.
-The Christian Mystic