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#227. Narnia.

May 14, 2008 in books with 35 Comments

If it were possible to take a vacation in the land of Narnia, we Christians would. Seriously, we’d pack our God’s Gym t-shirts , “his pain our gain,” and book the next flight to the forests of Narnia in a heartbeat.

Or would we book our flights to the wardrobe that you have to walk through to get to Narnia? Can you imagine 10,000 sweaty, plane-tired Christians forming a single file line to get through the narrow door of the wardrobe? I bet we’d have to take our shoes off. And you’d need a second bin for your laptop. If you needed assistance with a wheelchair they would help you, but they would do so grudgingly. And there would be that one guy that acts surprised that he’s at the wardrobe:

“What? You need my ID? Where is it? Where is it? I’m just so excited about meeting Aslan that I completely forgot about my ID! I hope I don’t run into any Turkish Delight! That’s a joke! I kid! I kid!”

I’d probably get stuck in the wardrobe next to a baby. It’d be crying and wiping its nose on all the fur coats that are in there. I’d want to say what I am always tempted to exclaim when I see a family in Venice with an infant strapped to their stomach like a deer on a roof rack, “Look, this baby could be going to Wal-Mart for all it knows. Why bring it Narnia?”

And then you know they’d lose your luggage. I don’t know how, I mean it would make sense for us to carry it ourselves, but there would be a conveyor belt, there’s always a conveyor belt. Plus would you really trust your suitcase to a little goat man? He’s got such tiny hooves, how’s he going to carry anything? And some of the animals would definitely give you attitude. Beavers especially, I can just see them saying, “Ugh, tourist season. It’s impossible to get a good dinner reservation right now.”

On second thought, I’m going to pass on Narnia and go play Frisbee with Bombadil.