On Being Undragoned

I cannot remember the last time I cried during a church sermon.

Yet, yesterday morning in church I sobbed like a baby and left feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, reconnected to God, and glad I had come.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, so let me explain.

The sermon centered on Jesus' encounter with Matthew the tax collector, in Mark chapter 2. Matthew is a greedy cheat, a sinner, and a social outcast, whom Jesus, instead of rejecting, not only called to be his follower, but also hung out with him and his friends. Instead of pointing the finger of judgment, Jesus held open the arms of love. And Matthew was saved.

What hit me particularly, though, was that as the pastor dissected the three types of people in this passage (the outcasts, the judgmental legalists, and Jesus), he narrowed in on the outcasts using Eustace from The Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader as an example.

Eustace is, frankly, a whiny brat who hates having been "dragged" into Narnia and persists in insisting that the King find him a "British Consul" so he can further complain about the lack of modern conveniences. (I mean, c'mon! Who doesn't have Plumbs Vitaminized Nerve Water on board a medieval ship!?) The turning point in Eustace's life, however, comes when the ship lands on a deserted Island, and instead of staying with the ship, Eustace sets out to explore, comes across a dragon's hoard, and falls asleep in the dragon's lair. The next morning when he wakes up, he finds that, overnight, he's turned into a dragon.

He has become a monster.

I'm betting that if Skillet held a concert in Narnia, he'd be their biggest fan. After all, who truly understands what it is like to feel like a monster better than an actual monster?

The pastor went on to say that maybe, for some of the audience, that's where they found themselves. They were Eustaces in dragon form, looking at themselves in the mirror wondering "How in the world did I get here? This is the last place I would have imagined myself, yet here I am". They are the outcasts, the rejects, those shunned by modern Christianity.

And...this is where I lost it crying. Because I've been there. I've been the girl staring herself in the mirror, tears streaming down her cheeks, asking herself, "How in the world did I find myself in this hell?" I've been the girl terrified of getting help for fear of being judged, certain that I would never find love, and resigned to being a monster forever.

But, as the pastor reminded us, the beauty is that Eustace's story doesn't end there. Because, you see, one day Eustace meets Aslan. And Aslan, if you know your Narnia, is a figure of Jesus. Aslan takes Eustace to the top of a mountain, and there, before a well of crystal water, tells him to undress and wash to be made human again. Yet after shedding his skin countless times, Eustace is no closer to freedom than he was at the outset.

In the words of Eustace himself, "Then the lion said - but I don't know if it spoke - 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was pretty afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty near desperate now, So I just lay flat on my back to let him do it.

"The very first tear He made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when He began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt...Well He peeled the beastly stuff off - just as I thought I'd it myself the other...times - only it hadn't hurt,..Then He caught hold of me - I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I had no skin on - and threw me into the water...As soon as I started swimming and splashing, I saw ... I had turned into a boy again!"

Ultimately, this is where it's at. Because only Christ can "un-dragon" us. Only Christ can turn brokenness into beauty, and a monster into a messenger. It's going to hurt worse than anything to let Him take the darkness, pain, and heartbreak but the resulting freedom is so exquisitely beautiful, it all becomes worth it.

I know.

I know because I've lived it.

I'm me again, and it's absolutely splendid.

I've been undragoned.