| Book Excerpt Father Christmas in Narnia  By Dr. Michael Ward Author, The Narnia Code
 
 CBN.com  Chapter 1 -- The Mystery 
 For those outside everything is in parables; so that they may  indeed see but not perceive, and may indeed hear but not understand. (Mark  4:11-12)
 
 Do you remember when you first heard the story of Lucy  Pevensie pushing her way through the back of a wardrobe and finding herself in  a snowy wood? Do you recall how you felt when Lucy had tea with Mr. Tumnus and  learned that his world, the kingdom   of Narnia, was ruled  by the evil White Witch, who had banished the old days of jollification?  Undoubtedly, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe contains  one of literature’s greatest fairy-tale openings.
 
 I first followed Lucy as she entered the wardrobe when I was  a young boy—too young to read for myself, but not too young to be read to. My  older brothers and I jumped into our parents’ bed one Sunday morning, and my  mother read aloud the opening chapter from The Lion, the  Witch and the Wardrobe. We loved it. Sunday by Sunday, the Ward family  worked its way through the whole book, and eventually through the six other  Narnia Chronicles as well.
 
 Give Father Christmas the Sack!
 
 But one thing confused me about The  Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I was surprised when Father Christmas  appeared. I didn’t expect to meet Santa in Narnia. I was glad he was there, of  course, and I was pleased when he gave out the presents. But I somehow felt  that Father Christmas belonged to a different kind of story world.
 
 When I got older and began to study Lewis’s works more  seriously, I discovered that many other people felt the same way. In fact, one  of these people, Roger Lancelyn Green, a good friend of Lewis’s, had urged him  to leave out Father Christmas.
 
 Why had Lewis kept him in? It didn’t make sense. Father  Christmas is a character who represents the festival of Christ’s birth, yet no  one in Narnia ever shows any knowledge of a character called Christ. They know only  of the Christlike lion Aslan. How, then, do the Narnians know of Christmas? What  do they mean by Christmas? It looks like an  elementary mistake on Lewis’s part.
 
 Several other scholars have made the same complaint as Roger  Lancelyn Green. They say the appearance of Father Christmas “strikes the wrong  note”; it’s “incongruous.” One expert said that “to be true to his fantasy  world, Lewis should perhaps have created a Narnian equivalent to our Christmas  instead of taking it into Narnia.”1
 Admittedly, a character called Father Aslanmas sounds  awkward and probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, but it would have made  much better logical sense. Better still to have  left Father Christmas out entirely—or so I felt.
 
 This puzzle about Father Christmas was the beginning for me  of the great Narnian mystery. The Lion, the Witch and the  Wardrobe is a powerful and attractive story, and yet it seems to have a  weakness that a six-year-old could identify. How could this be?
 
 Perhaps it was simply a careless error on Lewis’s part,  indicating that he hadn’t given much thought to the story. But that seems  unlikely, given that he included Father Christmas even after  hearing Green’s objections. It may have been a mistake, but it wasn’t a careless error! Lewis clearly thought there was good  reason to keep Father Christmas in the story.
 
 But what was that reason? It was a question I wanted the  answer to. I continued to ponder the oddity of Father Christmas’s  appearance in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe  even as my family moved on to the next books in the series. And then I noticed  mysterious things in the other Chronicles as well:
 
 The Roman god Bacchus organizes a kind of riot in Prince Caspian and makes everyone merry with wine—but did Bacchus really belong to  that story? I wondered.
 
 And how come the children fail to recognize Prince Rilian  in The Silver Chair? It was obvious to me that the  young man in black clothes was the lost prince they were looking for, and I  couldn’t see why it took them so long to realize it.
 
 Perhaps the greatest mystery of all was The Horse and His Boy, which seemed to me just one long  journey across a desert.
 
 The Good Book and the Seven Good Books
 
 Early on, I was baffled by the series on another level. We  were a churchgoing family, and my parents told me that some of the characters  in Narnia were linked to biblical characters. Aslan, the lion king, was rather  like Jesus, they said. Just as Aslan died on the Stone Table in order to rescue  the guilty Edmund from the hands of the White Witch before returning to life,  so Jesus died on the Cross to save people from sin and then rose from the  grave. Lewis himself (so I later learned) once wrote to a child explaining that  the whole Narnia series was “about Christ.”2
 
 I liked the idea that there was a second level of meaning to  The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. And I could  see biblical connections in some of the other books too. The way Aslan sang  Narnia into being in The Magician’s Nephew was a  bit like God creating the world in Genesis. The Last  Battle was like God’s judgment on the world in the book of Revelation.
 
 What was mystifying was that the biblical links in the other  four Narnia Chronicles were not half so obvious. In fact, they were barely  present by comparison. Yes, Aslan was still there, and he was still like Jesus  in various ways (guiding, teaching, forgiving, and so forth), but there was no  clear connection between the overall story and any major episode in Jesus’ life  or ministry.
 
 In Prince Caspian Aslan  enters the story among dancing trees before giving a great war cry. What did that have to do with Jesus? I wondered.
 
 In The Voyage of the “Dawn Treader”  Aslan rips off a dragon skin, is made visible by a magic spell, and flies along  a sunbeam like a bird. You could find biblical sources for some of these ideas,  but what, if anything, tied them together? I was curious.
 
 In The Silver Chair Aslan  doesn’t appear bodily in Narnia at all but stays in his own high country above  the clouds—as if Jesus had gone back to being just “God in heaven” rather than “God  with us.”
 
 And in The Horse and His Boy  (on top of its long journey across the desert that so mystified me), Aslan is  mistaken for two lions, or maybe three lions, and does a great deal of dashing  about. He is said to be “swift of foot.” Now, why would you make your  Jesus-like character “swift of foot”? Jesus is never shown running in the  Bible!
 
 Jesus’ birth, of course, is recorded  in the Bible and is obviously a very important event—on par with Creation,  salvation, and the final judgment—yet (as I have already pointed out) there’s  no Narnian version of Christmas, no story about Aslan being born as a cub in  Narnia like Jesus was born as a baby in Bethlehem. Nor is there a Narnian  version of the Ascension, when Jesus returned to heaven. Nor is there a Narnian  Day of Pentecost, when the Christian church was born.
 
 Since three of the Chronicles were clearly connected to biblical  passages in Genesis, the Gospels, and Revelation, I thought it strange that the  remaining four Chronicles weren’t as clearly linked to other major events in  the Bible story.
 
 In short, the Narnia books were as mysterious on their  second level (the level of biblical parallels) as they were mysterious on their  first level (the level of the basic story).
 
 “Every Chapter Better than the One Before”
 
 Although I was occasionally puzzled as a young reader, I still  hugely enjoyed the series in general. In fact, I adored it. Reepicheep and  Puddleglum were the two standout characters. The Wood between the Worlds in The Magician’s Nephew fascinated me. I laughed at the  foolish monopods in The Voyage of the “Dawn Treader,”  and I grieved when Father Time brought the whole sequence to a close at the end  of The Last Battle. I wished I could join the  characters in that heavenly story “which goes on forever: in which every  chapter is better than the one before.”3
 
 What a vital, colorful world Narnia was! Perky jackdaws  cracking jokes. Guilty dragons made soft and tender. Castles shining like stars  on the seashore. Despite being confused at times about his mysterious methods,  I thought C. S. Lewis was simply the best  author. I was a bookish boy, so I had lots of other stories to compare his work  with. Without a doubt, the Chronicles were my favorites.
 
 At school, when my teacher asked the class to make a picture  representing the storybook we liked most, it was easy to know what to do. I  drew three silhouettes: one of a lion, one of a witch, and one of a wardrobe. I  then filled them in with different crayons: gold for the lion, white for the  witch, brown for the wardrobe. And finally I put them through a typewriter (we  still had typewriters in those days, not computers) and typed “cslewiscslewiscslewis”  back and forth across each silhouette. I was very proud of the resulting  picture, and I remembered it thirty years later when one night, while I was a  student at Cambridge University, quite unexpectedly I had the idea that led to  this book. We will come back to those silhouettes in the final chapter.
 
 Did He Plan It?
 
 Yet as I eagerly immersed myself in the series on one hand, I  continued pondering its mysteries. The question came down to this: Was it  possible there was a third level of meaning that  tied together all the puzzling elements—or were the books planless, without any  governing logic?
 
 The answer most people have given is that Lewis was  deliberately drawing on a rich and wide range of traditions as he created the  world of Narnia. They suggest there was no particular logic to his choices—apart  from the very loose and vague logic expressed in the old proverb “Variety is  the spice of life.” “Don’t press too hard,” they imply. “These are only  children’s books! They’re not to be taken seriously. Narnia is a glorious  hodgepodge, nothing more.”
 Many reviewers have thought the books are effectively  planless—just Lewis having fun and not taking much care how. One critic describes  Narnia as a “jumble,” “full of inconsistencies.”3.5 Another  critic says the Chronicles are “uneven” and “hastily written.”3.75 A third critic thinks Lewis wrote “glibly” in a “whizz-bang,  easy-come-easy-go, slap-it-down kind of way.”3.9
 
 One primary reason critics think this is because Lewis’s  great friend J. R. R. Tolkien thought so. Lewis read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe aloud to Tolkien,  who hated it. Yes, hated it! In Tolkien’s view,  Lewis had thrown together things from different traditions (talking animals,  English children, fauns and centaurs, Father Christmas, etc.) without good  reason.
 
 Tolkien so detested what Lewis had done that he soon gave up  trying to read the Narnia books and therefore didn’t actually know them very  well. He later admitted that they were outside his range of imaginative  sympathy.
 However, because Tolkien is now such a famous figure, his  views have received a great deal of attention. Lots of people have drawn a  sharp contrast between Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings,  which is set in Middle-earth, and Lewis’s Narnia. Middle-earth is obviously  extremely detailed in every respect; it even has its own invented languages. Tolkien  wanted it to have what he called “the inner consistency of reality.”4 The Lord of the Rings was  published with no fewer than six appendices!
 
 And yet I believe the classic stories of Narnia deserve to  be taken very seriously. What we read as children is perhaps the most important  literature we ever read because we’re then at a very formative stage of life. “The  hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world” goes the saying. And  if that’s true, what about the hand that holds the bedtime fairy-tale? For that  matter, what about the hand that writes the  bedtime fairy-tale?
 
 C. S. Lewis, as a writer for children, shouldn’t be  dismissed with a casual wave of the hand. Since they were first published in  the 1950s, C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia have been translated into  more than thirty different languages and are now firmly established as classics  of English literature. Walden Media’s film version of The  Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is one of the top-grossing movies ever  made. Simply because of the series’s popularity, it matters that we understand  what he was up to.
 
 Although Narnia doesn’t have the same kind of obvious detail  as Middle-earth, that doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t detailed in its own  way. The question we ought to ask is, what kind of  detail does it have? Did Lewis just throw in anything that struck his fancy, or  was there a more careful intelligence at work?
 
 As I got older and began to read C. S. Lewis’s other  writings, I became ever more intrigued by the seemingly random aspects to the  Chronicles. They were not what you would expect of a man like Lewis with a  highly trained mind. In his younger days he was tutored by a rigorous, logical  thinker, William Kirkpatrick, who taught him that he should always have reasons  for anything he said.
 
 And it’s easy to see that Lewis lapped up what Kirkpatrick  taught him because randomness and mishmash are not to be found in his writings.  Lewis is so famous as the author of Narnia that most people are unaware he had  a day job. His career wasn’t in writing children’s books; it was in the world  of academia. He taught for nearly thirty years at Oxford University and nearly  ten at Cambridge University. His ability to think logically and express himself  clearly enabled him to have such a successful career as a university professor.
 
 Lewis’s special field of academic  interest was the literature of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. He had a  vast knowledge of European literature, ranging across a thousand years up to  about the year 1650. The biggest book he ever wrote was a massive doorstop of  nearly seven hundred pages with the snappy title English  Literature in the Sixteenth Century Excluding Drama. It was part of a  multivolume series called the Oxford History of English Literature, which took Lewis  fifteen years to write.
 
 When I read Lewis’s academic books, I noticed that he was a  very careful writer, as a learned scholar ought to be. He didn’t slop words  together thoughtlessly but paid great attention to every single phrase he  wrote. One of his closest friends, Owen Barfield, once said of Lewis that “what  he thought about everything was secretly present in what he said about  anything.”5
 
 As a professor, Lewis enjoyed studying the works of old  authors like Dante and Chaucer and Spenser, whose poems “cannot be taken in at  a glance.” He added, “Everything leads to everything else, but by very  intricate paths.”6
 
 Lewis also wrote a good deal of poetry. I am amazed by how  complex it is. He made his poems as intricate as possible, and the subtlety of  his word choice and rhyme schemes is simply jaw-dropping. He pointed out that  the poems that look as if they have no special pattern were actually the most  complicated.
 
 As for his views on fairy-tales, the same love of complexity  was there too. Lewis thought that the best fairy-tales have a very strict logic  to them. They had to possess order and pattern or else they wouldn’t please  their readers. Just because a fairy-tale is full of magic and marvels doesn’t  mean that things can be “arbitrary,” he said.
 
 And what Lewis believed about the world of fairy-tales  reflected his beliefs about the real world. As a Christian, he thought the  universe had been made by God with very definite purposes. Even though the  universe has been spoiled by sin, nevertheless God’s plan is still being worked  out. If only we had eyes to see it, we would notice the divine plan even in  seemingly meaningless events—“the curve of every wave and the flight of every  insect.”7
 
 Lewis’s view of fairy-tales sheds light on the Narnian  mystery because it suggests that Lewis would have been very likely to write the  Chronicles with the most careful attention to detail.  The reason Father Christmas appears in The Lion, the  Witch and the Wardrobe might not have been obvious to me. I might not have  been able to explain the ways in which the books relate to the Bible. And yet  that probably meant I was just too far away from Lewis’s imagination to  understand what he was doing. If you like, I was one of “those outside.”
 
 The more I looked into this issue, the more I realized there  was probably an inner meaning to the Narnia books even if I couldn’t spot what  it was. I felt rather like the Victorian astronomer John Couch Adams, who concluded  the planet Neptune must exist even before he  actually observed it in the night sky.
 
 Adams saw that there was a kink in the orbit of Uranus,  which indicated there was a planet beyond Uranus,  hidden from view but exerting the pull of gravity. A year after he realized this, Adams saw the mysterious planet  through a telescope for the very first time. But he knew it existed before he  observed it. (We will come back to Neptune in a later chapter because Lewis  attached great importance to its discovery.)
 
 The situation I was in reminded me not only of the search  for the planet Neptune but also of what Lewis said about some of his favorite  authors. He said each of their stories “at first looks planless, though all is  planned.”8 That was the Narnian mystery in a  nutshell! It looked planless, but surely it was  planned. The question I needed to answer about Narnia was this (please excuse  the pun): did Lewis plan it or did he not plan it?
 
 The Narnia Code
 
 In addition to the “hodgepodge” theory about the way Lewis  wrote the Chronicles, there is another possible explanation. There might be a secret reason why Lewis retained Father Christmas, a hidden logic to his creative choices. Could Lewis have  been following some underlying imaginative plan that he kept to himself? Was  there perhaps a Narnia “code” waiting to be cracked?
 
 The idea of secret codes usually makes people roll their  eyes in disbelief—quite rightly, too, in most cases. When someone claims to  have found a hidden code, it nearly always turns out to be a lot of nonsense. The Da Vinci Code is the most famous fictional example  of this kind of far-fetched silliness.
 
 And yet we shouldn’t jump to a conclusion too quickly. Lewis  was interested in codes. Many people know that he dedicated The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to his goddaughter,  Lucy Barfield, and named Lucy Pevensie after her. Hardly anyone knows that he  had another godchild named Laurence Harwood and that Lewis often sent Laurence  letters containing “puzzles to solve or secret writing to decode.”9 (Harwood reprints these codes in his book C. S. Lewis, My Godfather). The possibility that Narnia  itself contains some kind of coded meaning is not a completely wild or crazy  idea.
 
 Lewis said that most of his books were written for tous exo, which is the Greek way of saying “those  outside.” He was referring to the passage in the Bible (quoted at the beginning  of this chapter) in which Jesus said that He taught in parables so that “those  outside” may be always seeing and never perceiving.
 
 In other words, Jesus’ stories needed to be decoded in order  to be properly understood. Often, when He was alone with His disciples, Jesus  explained the inner meaning of what He had said to the crowds. His parables are  a prime example of coded language being used for a good purpose.
 
 Suppressed by Jack
 
 Assuming for a moment that Lewis did  have a plan behind the series, is it really possible that he could have kept  the plan to himself and told no one about it? Did he have the sort of  personality that was capable of sitting on a big secret of this kind? Let us  consider the evidence.
 
 On the one hand, Lewis was an honest and straightforward  man. He had a no-nonsense, down-to-earth attitude to life, which went well with  his self-chosen nickname, Jack. (He never liked his given names, Clive and  Staples.) One of his closest friends, George Sayer, said that he and Jack  talked together “in the frankest way as friends should” and that “I have never  known a man more open about his private life.”9.5
 
 On the other hand, Sayer also records the exact opposite about Lewis! As well as remembering how open  Lewis could be, Sayer said “Jack never ceased to be secretive.”10 Lewis could put up a smoke screen if he wanted to keep  something private.
 
 As a writer, Lewis sometimes wished to keep his own identity  private. In order to do so, he used several different pen names in the course  of his career.
 
 One pen name was Clive Hamilton, which he used for the first  two books he published. He gave one of these volumes to a friend without  letting on that he himself was Clive Hamilton. The friend discovered it only later.
 Another pen name was N. W. Clerk. N. W. stands for “Nat Whilk,” the Anglo-Saxon way  of saying, “I know not whom.” Clerk means simply a  writer or author. Altogether, then, “N. W. Clerk” means “a writer whom I  don’t know.” Lewis used this name for one of his last books and was so keen to  conceal his identity that he even disguised his style of writing.
 
 But the most obvious and striking example of Lewis’s  secretiveness was when he got married and told no one what he had done. (This  is what the film Shadowlands is all about.) He  kept it secret for the best part of a year—an extraordinary thing to do! He  even hid it from his good friend Tolkien. What is more surprising, would you  say? To keep a marriage secret or to keep a literary code secret?
 
 Speaking of surprises, Lewis wrote an autobiography called Surprised by Joy. It avoided mentioning so many  important things that one of his friends joked a better title would have been Suppressed by Jack!
 
 George Sayer remembered a time when he was out walking in  the countryside with Lewis and they came across a bedraggled fox that was being  chased by huntsmen with hounds. The fox ran off into a wood, and then the  huntsmen rode up on their horses. Lewis shouted out to the first riders, “‘Hallo,  yoicks, gone that way,’ and pointed to the direction opposite to the one the  fox had taken. The whole hunt followed his directions.”11
 All these things show that Lewis was capable of keeping  secrets, sometimes very major secrets (such as his marriage), and that he didn’t  mind misleading people if he thought there was good reason to do so.
 The more I found out about his personality, the more I  suspected there was a hidden meaning to Narnia.
 
 Eureka!
 
 Reading what other people had written about Lewis and Narnia,  I noticed that I wasn’t the only person with this suspicion. Lots of people who  have studied the Chronicles and their author have asked themselves, “There’s  more going on here than meets the eye. But what is  it?”
 
 Many different answers have been suggested.
 
 One scholar tried to show that the seven Narnia stories are  linked to the classical virtues (faith, hope, love, justice, prudence,  temperance, and courage).
 
 Another couple of scholars took the exact opposite approach  and suggested that Narnia’s unifying theme was the seven deadly sins (lust,  gluttony, greed, sloth, anger, envy, and pride).
 
 Numerous other ideas have been put forward, such as the  seven sacraments and the seven sections of Spenser’s Faerie  Queene (a poem Lewis loved), but none of these ideas proved to be the  solution to the riddle.
 
 I myself once made a halfhearted attempt to link the  Chronicles with different plays by Shakespeare, but I soon abandoned it. I knew  I was just “twisting” the Chronicles to fit in with my own thinking.
 
 And so the years went by. While I was a student at Oxford  University, I occasionally thought about this mystery, trying out one idea and  then another—without any success. I steadily read more and more of Lewis’s  works, teaching and lecturing and writing about them. I even lived for three  years in what had been his Oxford home, The Kilns, working there as a warden  and curator, sleeping in Lewis’s old bedroom and studying in his study.
 
 Then I moved to Cambridge and began to write a doctoral  thesis on his imagination. One night, when I was thirty-five years old and  lying in bed in my college room, just about to go to sleep, I had a thought. I  sat up in bed and said to myself, That’s it! I’ve got it!
 
 The mystery was solved. I had cracked the Narnia code.
  Order your copy of The Narnia Code: C.S. Lewis and the Secret of the Seven Heavens
 Watch the Voyage of the Dawn Treader  trailer  More from CBN.com's Narnia special feature More Spiritual Life 
 Excerpted from  The Narnia Code: C.S. Lewis and the Secret of the Seven Heavens  by Dr. Michael Card, Tyndale House Publishers, 2010. Used with Permission.  
 
 CBN IS HERE FOR YOU!Are you seeking answers in life? Are you hurting?
 Are you facing a difficult situation?
  A caring friend will be there to pray with you in your time of need. |  |