Seeds Of Salvation: Lessons Learned In Narnia

I recently finished a reread of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and it made me stop and consider how many people have been propelled towards faith by C. S. Lewis’s books, particularly the Narnia series. Andrew Peterson, renowned songwriter and author of the Wingfeather Saga, claims that Narnia had a huge influence on him becoming a Christian, and we have probably all heard Narnia quoted in a sermon at some point. The role that books like Narnia take in nudging us towards salvation reminds me of our number one job as Christian parents: to plant seeds of gospel truth throughout our kids’ childhoods.

I heard someone say recently that “calling should supersede family,” and by calling they were referring to a person’s “call” to share the gospel outside of their home and particularly through church ministry. All of us as Christians should be living out the call to share the gospel, but for those of us who serve in vocational ministry (like my husband does) there can often be a danger when we place our “calling” (our job of ministering) above our families. You see, if you are a parent then God has called you to one place first and foremost to minister: within your home. Now don’t hear what I’m not saying: moms and dads are still called to serve within their church and to witness to unbelievers whenever possible. But here’s the thing: this may be hard to hear, mom or dad, but you are easily replaced in the church. Someone else can run the youth group, lead worship, witness to the guy in the coffee shop line, and even preach the sermon. But as a parent, you cannot be replaced. I recently listened to a podcast interview with Lee Strobel on the Alli Worthington Show, and he said something I find surprising. We have all probably heard at least snippets of Strobel’s story: an investigative journalist and atheist, he found himself on the hunt for the truth about Christianity after his wife became a believer. He followed rabbit trails and interviewed the top minds in the world in all sorts of different fields, and his findings eventually led him to renounce his atheism and become a believer. On this podcast episode he said that he has the privilege of not having to have all the answers himself; rather he finds the people who do have the answers. But what I find so interesting about his story is that he doesn’t cite his “superior,” worldly knowledge as what kept him from salvation. Rather, he attributed it to growing up with a dad who didn’t model for him what it looks like to be a Godly father. In other words, his dad didn’t point him to Jesus but rather pointed him down the opposite path.

In Raising Amazing, Monica Swanson makes this profound statement about our kids’ salvation: “Research tells us that most Christians become Christians during their childhood. It’s much less likely for someone to make a commitment to Christ after they turn eighteen. Young children have precious, impressionable hearts, but as they grow up, things of the world creep in, and their hearts tend to harden. While there’s always hope for anyone to begin a relationship with Jesus at any age, George Barna, renowned researcher, stated, ‘From the way I see it, our kids’ faith is either won or lost by age 13.’” We nod our heads along with this, right? I think most of us would agree that seeing children (both ours and others) come to salvation is a priority for us; but I would like to point out that something is only really a priority if it’s where we spend our time. In other words, if you really value your kids’ faith, then you’re going to spend MORE TIME ministering to your KIDS than ministering in the CHURCH.

Probably because my husband and I entered vocational ministry only a few months after we got married, I’ve always been interested in the lives of pastors and their families. I’m always watching for Godly role models who have managed to have a healthy marriage and raise amazing kids while serving in vocational ministry throughout their lives. But sometimes the numbers seem rather grim: over and over again we see the marriages of pastors fall apart; we see pastor’s kids turn away from the faith they grew up with, rebel, and fall in with the world. We can’t assume there’s only one thing that causes this, but I have noticed a common denominator in most of these situations I’ve witnessed: the pastor (and likely his wife, as well) placed their ministry in the church above their ministry in the home.

This problem isn’t relegated only to those in vocational ministry. I think there’s a natural human inclination to want our ministry to be seen and approved. And ministering to our family isn’t nearly as flashy or glamorous as witnessing to someone in the grocery store line or teaching a Sunday school class. Ministering to our family looks a lot more like apologizing when you mess up for the twentieth time, doing family devotions even when it’s loud and crazy, and being there to listen to and pray with a struggling kid. Timothy received this legacy of faith from his mother and grandmother: “I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also” (2 Timothy 1:5). Yes, we are called to leave everything to follow Christ, but that does not mean abandoning our spouses and kids, which is a clear contradiction to Scripture.

So back to Narnia: I bring all this up because I think we see two sides to Lewis’s writing, the academic side (think Mere Christianity) and what we often consider the “fun” side (think Narnia). And I think we often want to value the academic over the other, seemingly lighter side. Yet I think if we really stop and consider Christ’s life, we will notice that he valued relationships (especially with children- see Matthew 18:6 if you disagree) above theological debates, often only stopping to dig deep on controversial theology when questioned on it.

This is what I want in my own life, too: I want more Narnia and less academics. I want to show my kids Christ through how I live, just as Aslan shows us a Savior who overcame death for us. I want to be willing to sacrifice everything else to bring my kids to Christ, just as the Beavers were willing to face danger and the loss of their home to get Lucy and her siblings to Aslan. I want to have enough margin in our schedules that my kids can “enter the wardrobe” in the first place and recognize the waiting Savior. Like Father Christmas in the story, I want to help my kids see the gifts placed inside them when they were created, gifts of compassion and courage. I want to fight alongside my family against the devil’s schemes, like the Pevensies fight in the battle against the White Witch. I don’t want to “give the devil a foothold,” even if that foothold is inside the four walls of the church.

The problem with the statement I mentioned at the beginning is that person’s definition of “calling.” You see, “calling” doesn’t mean a vocation or church work or even witnessing. It means sharing the gospel as you go about your lives. Yes, this is also going to include witnessing to strangers and serving in ministries in your church, but (if you are a parent) this is going to primarily mean ministering to your kids. In other words: motherhood (or fatherhood) IS your ministry. Let’s all pause and take a look at our schedules to see where we have prioritized other pursuits over our own kids, and let’s change our calendars to better reflect what is actually most important.