Wondrous Love

 

2 What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul,

what wondrous love is this, O my soul!

What wondrous love is this,

that caused the Lord of life

to lay aside his crown for my soul, for my soul,

to lay aside his crown for my soul.

4 And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on, I'll sing on,

and when from death I'm free, I'll sing on;

and when from death I'm free, I'll sing and joyful be,

and through eternity I'll sing on, I'll sing on,

and through eternity I'll sing on.

                      What Wondrous Love is This Voices United 147

A few days ago we watched the Disney version of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the first in the series. The book for children was written by CS Lewis in 1950, the first in a series of seven novels which have sold in the millions. The film is from 2005, so that's staying power. Lewis was an atheist who was "surprised by joy" and became one of the foremost Christian apologists of the 20th century. He had a popular series on BBC radio during WWII which explored Christian themes, something that would be inconceivable today. 

While watching the film I was struck by the way the sacrifice of Aslan, the Christ-figure lion was addressed, both by Lewis, as the author, and in its depiction in the movie. Liam Neeson voices the majestic lion who puts aside his immense, magical strength to rescue the difficult boy, Edmund. 

The crucifixion of Jesus, and what that dark event means for Christian has often been misrepresented as delivering us from God's wrath, a "don't make me come down there!" event in which an angry and distant deity sacrifices his only child for the redemption of miserable sinners. As someone dryly observed, "some family." In the story Aslan acts out of the deep well of love, putting aside power to come alongside humanity and one particular human who in his frailty and confusion has become bitter. 

I'm not sure why we watched the film this year,  but I'm glad we did. We couldn't attend a Good Friday service in-person, so this augmented what we saw virtually from our congregation. I realize I can't begin to comprehend the mystery and import of the cross of Christ, yet I'm grateful.