The man behind Narnia, C.S. Lewis, could easily have become a leading antagonist against Christianity. After all, he went to Oxford as a skeptic, seeing the gospel as just another myth bringing comfort to the weak minded — offering little to the more sophisticated intellect. "I believe in no religion," 17-year-old Lewis wrote a friend. "There is absolutely no proof for any of them, and from a philosophical standpoint, Christianity is not even the best."

By the time he was 32, however, Lewis had a very different view, as expressed in a note to that same friend. "Christianity is God expressing Himself through what we call ‘real things' ... namely the actual incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection."

What made the change? In a word, fantasy.

It is no stretch to say that Lewis' faith journey began as a result of reading stories that were dripping with Christian truth — awakening within him a desire for something he didn't possess. Like the wonderful aroma of home-baked cookies invading his nostrils, these stories gave Lewis a whiff of joy — making him hungry for the full reality of its source.

In later life, Lewis would credit the author of those stories, 19th Century minister George MacDonald, with having influenced virtually every word he ever wrote — including the Narnia tales. It began with Phantastes, a dreamlike tale in which a boy wishes to visit fairy-country. He awakes the next morning in an enchanted wood where he encounters profound happiness mixed with perilous adventure — including death and rebirth of sorts. At first, Lewis didn't recognize the story or the desire it stirred to be Christian. Only later, after having found the aroma's source, did Lewis realize what had occurred. Lewis said he "crossed a great frontier" by reading Phantastes that placed him on a quest for joy, a pursuit that would eventually find its source in the same God of Christianity he had abandoned in childhood. And so, thanks to the imagination of George MacDonald, C.S. Lewis found his way home — and was met by a plate of warm cookies.

I had a similar experience sitting in a London recording studio in 1997 while overseeing the Focus on the Family Radio Theatre adaptation of the Chronicles of Narnia. With my eyes closed, I listened to voices from behind the glass as the theater of my mind entered into the drama. Each encounter with the great lion Aslan brought a shiver down my spine and a lump to my throat. It was like encountering something — no, someone more frightening yet comforting than any I had ever met before. I found myself moved in ways decades of church attendance and religious instruction had never accomplished. I was catching a whiff of something much more joyous than I knew.

Months later, my 9-year-old son got his own shivers. Our entire family was driving in the car listening to the final production of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Not a word was spoken as we endured the dreadful scene of Aslan's death on the stone table. A deep sadness rested upon Shaun as he absorbed the injustice and loss. But then, moments later, he was overwhelmed with celebration as he discovered that Aslan was alive again. The gloom of death overtaken by the delight of resurrection, Shaun could not contain his excitement. "That's just like Jesus!" he screamed from the back seat.

Like most kids raised in Sunday school, Shaun had heard the story of Jesus' death and resurrection literally dozens of times. It had become routine, expected, perhaps even boring. But through a fantasy tale that had none of what Lewis called "stained glass and Sunday school associations," Shaun was caught off guard — surprised by the most wonderful and potent truth of Christian faith. The affect on his heart, like my own sitting in that studio, was a whiff of true delight. We entered into the experience of the gospel rather than merely exploring its tenets. And along the way, we "crossed a great frontier" that awakened a new, more vibrant faith.

Another World

What George MacDonald did for the faith and imagination of C.S. Lewis, Lewis has done for millions who enjoy his fantasy tales. With combined sales of over 65 million copies, and the inspiration behind the recent feature film, the seven The Chronicles of Narnia books are more popular than ever. And with good reason. With the possible exception of J.R.R. Tolkien, no 20th century writer more masterfully married the enchantment of fantasy with the enrichment of faith. The Narnia stories are like a meal with the nourishment of meat and vegetables, but the taste of cake and candy. Both the dreams of fairyland and the promise of heaven invade the imagination at the same time, baptizing it with wonderful and unexpected affects.

The problem, of course, is that we rarely associate pleasure with nourishment. The Narnia tales are such good children's stories, we resist the notion that they allegorize the gospel story. Lewis himself debunked the notion that his tales are mere Christian allegory, explaining that the Christian truths pushed their way into the story on their own. His theology was part of him, so became part of what he created — like air bubbling to the water's surface.

Some people seem to think that I began by asking myself how I could say something about Christianity to children; then fixed on the fairy tale as an instrument; then collected information about child-psychology and decided what age group I'd write for; then drew up a list of basic Christian truths and hammered out "allegories" to embody them. This is all pure moonshine. I couldn't write in that way at all. Everything began with images; a faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificant [sic] lion. At first there wasn't anything Christian about them; that element pushed itself in of its own accord. It was part of the bubbling.

The Narnian stories are not allegory. They rather grow out of a central supposition. Suppose there existed another world peopled by animals rather than human beings. Suppose that world fell, like ours, and had in it someone the equivalent of Christ.

Aslan entered Narnia in the form of a lion just as Jesus came into this world in the form of a man. Based upon this supposition, Lewis created a fantasy world that depicts the central theme of our real world — redemption through the incarnate God's death and resurrection. The magical part is that this mythical Christ somehow draws us ever deeper to the real.

In May of 1955, the mother of a 9-year-old boy named Laurence wrote to C.S. Lewis explaining that Laurence was concerned that he loved Aslan more than Jesus. To her delighted surprise, she received a reply 10 days later that included the following:

Laurence can't really love Aslan more than Jesus, even if he feels that's what he is doing. For the things he loves Aslan for doing or saying are simply the things Jesus really did and said. So that when Laurence thinks he is loving Aslan, he is really loving Jesus: and perhaps loving Him more than he ever did before.

According to Lewis himself, part of what makes the adventure into the wardrobe so exciting is the worldview that lies behind the wardrobe.

The Movie

Just as fantasy drew an unlikely Oxford Don into Christian faith, the film adaptation of Lewis' first Narnia story comes from some unlikely sources — including the Walt Disney Company and a director who brought us Shrek. This past January I joined several others from Focus on the Family to visit the Disney studios for a behind the scenes look at the Walden Media version of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. We were invited along with other media, ministry and church representatives — all hoping Hollywood would handle Lewis' beloved stories with the kind of respect and artistic excellence Peter Jackson demonstrated in his adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's writings. Knowing how hard we worked to get it right for radio, I was eager to find out what the inevitable scene selection process might do to the film version.

They showed us press materials, explained how they were handling certain special effects such as the talking Mr. Beaver, and they previewed the film trailer — all intended to generate the typical excitement about any pending movie release. The sneak peek satisfied one concern — this was NOT a low budget production. In fact, the same team that produced a believable Middle Earth in Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings movies was working on the creatures and lands of Narnia.

We next had an opportunity to hear from film director Andrew Adamson. I must admit, I was skeptical at first. After all, the most prominent credit on his resume had been Shrek — a clever film, but one designed to deconstruct classic fairy stories rather than honor them. Might this guy also gut the meaning and wonder from Lewis' magical world? Andrew explained that for years he had been approached repeatedly about the possibility of working on a Narnia movie, but he had refused because he loved the Narnia books as a child and didn't want anyone messing them up. But when Walden Media approached him with a script that showed proper reverence for Lewis' creative work, Adamson signed on as Director. I was heartened to learn that they had hired a Lewis fan to direct the big screen debut of the Chronicles.

So far, so good — a big budget and a solid director. But the biggest question of all remained. Would they include the pivotal stone table scene? After all, the central theme of the story — the one that caused my son Shaun to leap from his seat in excitement over the parallel to Jesus Christ — depended upon its inclusion.

It would be very easy for Disney to succumb to the temptation to take "creative license" and alter the story like they had done on countless fairy tales. Anyone who has read the original Brothers Grimm knows that the animated versions of The Little Mermaid and Snow White tell very different tales. Besides, in this instance there would certainly be criticism over Lewis' overt Christian themes.

No matter how well produced or how the Director felt about Lewis, if the stone table and resurrection were removed, the film would gut the author's worldview. Millions of movie goers would see a cute, perhaps even exciting story on screen. But they would not see the most important and dramatically compelling parts.

The good news is that the stone table and resurrection scenes are included in a manner consistent with Lewis' intent. As a passionate Christian who loves the writings of C.S. Lewis, Walden Media President Micheal Flaherty is also excited about a number of other central ideas included in the film that he believes will pleasantly surprise viewers — such as a not- so-hidden inference to Lewis' famous "Lord, liar or lunatic" argument.

I believe everyone should experience the wonder of Lewis' world and worldview. Those who've read his non-fiction know Lewis' strength of reason. But the Narnia tales carry us beyond intellectual assent — and all the hype over The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe offers an ideal opportunity to encounter Christian truths bubbling up in another world. Who knows, an adventure beyond the lamppost might be just the thing needed to baptize your imagination with realities better depicted than described.