A sharp intake of breath and the room is silent. They look at me with wide-eyes. Their expressions a mixture of shock and sorrow.
I’ve just read Peter’s words that Susan is “no longer a friend of Narnia.” We sit there quiet for a moment while I let the words sink in. Then a chorus of questions. “How? She was a queen. What happened, Mom? Why doesn’t she love Narnia anymore?”
I read on as Jill Pole explains a bit further… “she’s interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations.” And Madison recalls a clue from an earlier book. “Oh yeah, and remember before how she didn’t see Alsan when Lucy did? She didn’t even believe Lucy at first.”
In truth, Lewis had been giving us clues all along. He makes it clear that in her effort to seem more grown-up, Susan had lost her way. For example, in The Horse and His Boy, Corin tells his brother, “She’s not like Lucy, you know… Queen Susan is more like an ordinary grown up lady.”
She who had ridden on Aslan’s back and ruled in his stead. She who had watched him pay the white witch’s price in Edmund’s place. She who had watched him rise from the dead and felt his warm breath on her face.
Had she forgotten all of it? Had she relegated it to the realm of childish fancies? Had she let other, wordly concerns crowd-in and squelch the truth?
Lewis doesn’t really tell us the full account. He leaves Susan’s story somewhat vague. He gives us just enough to pause and consider but not so much as to answer all the questions for us. He doesn’t even tell us what happens to Susan in the end. Does she eventually join the others in Aslan’s country? We don’t know. Lots of people have speculated and recreated scenarios. But Lewis simply doesn’t tell us.
In another place, Lewis underscores that fact: “The books don’t tell us what happened to Susan. She is left alive in this world at the end, having by then turned into a rather silly, conceited young woman. But there’s plenty of time for her to mend and perhaps she will get to Aslan’s country in the end…”
And, so, there it is. The books end and Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. As we sat there on the floor in Caleb’s room, we were sobered as we read the final pages. Honestly, the joy of entering Aslan’s country was somewhat tainted by the sorrow over Susan’s choice.
(One caution: The book is just that. A book. A work of fiction with some beautiful spiritual analogies. Lewis did not intend it to be a theological treatise. So, we must be careful not to draw too much about heaven and salvation from his ponderings on Susan’s life.)
But, as I tucked the kids into bed, my mind replayed the passage. And I couldn’t help but let my heart cry out, “Oh, Jesus, I don’t want to be like Susan. I don’t want to just start well. I want to finish well.
“Don’t let me be one of those tired, old souls who gets sidelined because it gets too hard to keep believing. Or one of those material girls who is so distracted with image and schedule and stuff that she can’t find room for an ugly cross. Or one of those stale church-goers who only remembers the “glory days” – when she went forward or when she was baptized or when she went on that one amazing missions trip in high school or college – but has no current faith stories.”
As I’ve continued reflecting on Susan these last few weeks, my heart has turned to Jesus’ parable of the soils.
He spoke by way of a parable: “The sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed, some fell beside the road; and it was trampled under foot, and the birds of the air ate it up. And other seed fell on rocky soil, and as soon as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And other seed fell among the thorns; and the thorns grew up with it, and choked it out. And other seed fell into the good soil, and grew up and produced a crop a hundred times as great.” As He said these things, He would call out, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” (Luke 8:4-8)
Jesus later describes the good soil. Soil where the seeds didn’t just start well but actually survived the tests of time and bore fruit. Of the good soil, He said, “…these are the ones who have heard the word in an honest and good heart, and hold it fast, and bear fruit with perseverance.”
That’s what I want. A heart that is rich for the seed of gospel. A heart that holds fast and bears fruit that will last.
How about you, dear friend? What are you doing to cultivate a heart like that?
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