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It’s the British author, C.S. Lewis, who is to blame.  He wrote some fantasy books for kids – and they sucked me right in.  The result is that I became something of a fantasy addict.  I guess you too may have read Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles at some point in your life or watched a movie of one of his books such as The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  I recall reading the Narnia Chronicles to my young children while we were on holidays.  We had a bit of an age gap between my older and younger children so when the younger ones got to a certain age I read them all over again.  It was something of a holiday ritual in our family for Dad to read some fantasy stories before the kids went to bed at night.  After the Narnia Chronicles we graduated to Tolkien.  The kids loved hearing about the Hobbits… and Tolkien’s Lord Of The Rings kept us busy for many an evening.

I could make quite a list of fantasy authors whose books I’ve read.  Just recently I picked up Stephen Donaldson’s two trilogies about Thomas Covenant.  That’s a somewhat daunting project: six volumes of 400-plus pages each.  I’d read them back in the early 80s when they first came out and recently decided to read them again.  Stephen Donaldson is a good story-teller but I have to admit that I find the Thomas Covenant Chronicles extremely frustrating to read – even though the stories draw you in.  The problem is not just the very complex character of Thomas Covenant.  Covenant is a leper who finds himself transported into another world.  The issue is rather the world and life view that is portrayed in these stories – a world and life view that is essentially grounded in Eastern religious mysticism.

Let me give you an example.  In the world in which Thomas Covenant finds himself, the Creator cannot interfere in his creation in any way.  Donaldson points out that if the Creator were to intervene in any way in human affairs then he would break the arch of time.  I’m not sure what that exactly means but it sounds ominous.  Now I have to say that many Aussies would feel quite comfortable with that sort of Creator.  The fact is that many folk today have a similar view of the Creator.  Although, to be fair, the issue today is not that the Creator cannot intervene in his creation, it’s rather that he does not.  For many folk God is a little like an absentee landlord.  Things happen as they do simply because of chance – either good luck or bad luck.  For many folk it has absolutely nothing to do with God.  God is like a clockmaker.  He made the world and (as it were) wound it up and now it runs by itself.

Can you see how frustrating that is for me as a Christian?  My world and life view is shaped by the Bible.  And in the Bible the Creator constantly intervenes in his creation.  Think only of the exodus of Israel out of Egypt.  When Pharaoh hardens his heart against God, the Lord unleashes ten plagues on Egypt.  God intervened without breaking the arch of time.  Over and over the Bible portrays a Creator who is very different from an absentee landlord.  Jesus taught that not even a sparrow falls to the ground without the Creator’s permission.  And when it comes to us humans even the very hairs of our head are all numbered.  God is intimately involved in the affairs of this world.  So from the Bible’s point of view a Creator who cannot intervene in his creation is pure fantasy.

In fact the most wonderful example of God involving himself in his creation is the gospel story.  On that first Christmas God took on humanity from the virgin Mary.  Jesus Christ was born to live our life and die our death.  And that intervention in human history didn’t break the arch of time.  Well, ok, it did change time – so that today we speak of time as either BC or AD – before Christ or in the year of the Lord.

I’m so glad I don’t live in the kind of world that Stephen Donaldson portrays.  I’m thankful that I live in a world where Jesus intervened to save me and to restore all things.  What a delight to know the Lord intervenes to guide my every step.  That’s not fantasy… that’s gospel fact.

John Westendorp