Learning how to say you were wrong about something, and that you are sorry, is one of the most important lessons anyone can learn in his life. It is basically a question of learning how to be genuinely honest. And as such an important lesson, it is not surprising that the Narnia stories are full of examples of this. We learn about real confession of sin in every book of the Narnia series.
In The Magician’s Nephew, remember that Digory woke up Jadis when he rang the bell. How does Aslan make Digory confess his sin honestly?
“‘You met the Witch?’ said Aslan in a low voice which had the threat of a growl in it. ‘She woke up,’ said Digory wretched. And then, turning very white, ‘I mean, I woke her’” (MN, p. 147).
And was Digory really enchanted in Charn? “No,” said Digory. “I see now I wasn’t. I was only pretending.” (MN, p. 147).
And what does Aslan require of Polly in this regard? “‘And you, little Daughter’ (here he turned to Polly) ‘are welcome. Have you forgiven the Boy for the violence he did you in the Hall of Images in the desolate palace of accursed Charn?’ ‘Yes, Aslan, we’ve made it up,’ said Polly” (MN, p. 152).
Whenever we are telling a story (to ourselves or to others) in which we did not behave very well, we have a very natural (and sinful) tendency to clean it up (just a) little bit. But this is the kind of dishonesty that Aslan never tolerates. Notice that Digory is not telling an overt lie—he did meet the witch—but he is still leaving out some important parts of the story. And he is leaving them out because it would him look bad to keep them in. Aslan sees this kind of dishonesty immediately, and he doesn’t tolerate it. This means that we learn the lesson almost as well as Digory did.
In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Peter and Susan had been really worried about Lucy and her crazy stories about Narnia. They had been afraid that she was losing her mind, but then it turned out that she was completely right after all. So how does Peter respond to finding himself in Narnia? “Peter turned at once to Lucy. ‘I apologize for not believing you,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. Will you shake hands?’ ‘Of course,’ said Lucy, and did” (LWW, p. 55).
Now compare this to how Edmund thought he was apologizing in the same circumstance. “‘I say, Lu! I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I see now you were right all along. Do come out. Make it Pax.’ Still there was no answer. ‘Just like a girl,’ said Edmund to himself, ‘sulking somewhere, and won’t accept an apology’” (LWW, p. 30). He says the right words at first, but his apology is only on the surface, as we can see by his behavior right after this when he meets the witch.
In The Horse and His Boy, after Shasta went back and face the lion, what did Aravis think of Shasta? “‘I know,’ said Aravis. ‘I felt just the same. Shasta was marvelous . . . now he turns out to be the best of us all. But I think it would be better to stay and say we’re sorry than to go back to Calormen’” (HHB, p. 151). Aravis is speaking true wisdom here. It would be better to stay and say you’re sorry.
And in the same place, what words of wisdom does the Hermit give to Bree? “‘My good Horse, you’ve lost nothing but your self-conceit. No, no, cousin. Don’t put back your ears and shake your mane at me. If you are really so humbled as you sounded a minute ago, you must learn to listen to sense’” (HHB, p. 151).
Prince Caspian contains this same wonderful truth. When Lucy leads them all to Aslan, how does Susan apologize?
“‘But I’m far worse than you know. I really believed it was him . . . deep down inside’” (PC, p. 152). In other words, she doesn’t apologize “just enough” to patch things up. She apologizes for the true problem, which Lucy had no way of finding out.
And how does Peter seek Aslan’s forgiveness? “‘I’ve been leading them wrong . . .’ said Peter” (PC, p. 153). And how does Aslan forgive him? “‘My dear son,’ said Aslan” (PC, p. 153).
In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when Caspian wants to abdicate and go on to the end of the world, he loses his temper when the others oppose him (and realize that their good opposition to a king misbehaving is yet another lesson on true authority). But later, when Caspian comes to his senses, he says, “‘I might as well have behaved decently for all the good I did’” (p. 240). In other words, Caspian doesn’t try to gloss over his behavior.
When Eustace falls off the cliff in The Silver Chair, how does Jill justify herself at first? “It’s not my fault he fell over that cliff” (SC, p. 19).
But then a few pages later, what happens? “Human Child,” said the Lion. “Where is the Boy?” “He fell over the cliff,” said Jill, and added, “Sir.” She didn’t know what else to call him, and it sounded cheek to call him nothing. “How did he come to do that, Human Child?” “He was trying to stop me from falling, Sir.” “Why were you so near the edge, Human Child?” “I was showing off, Sir.” “That is a very good answer, Human Child. Do so no more” (SC, pp. 23-24).
Aslan is doing the same thing for Jill here that he did for Digory. “You met the witch?” He hears the story, and he knows that it is an incomplete story. And he doesn’t drop the subject until he has the complete story.
Quite a bit later in the same book, the same kind of thing comes up when Eustace and Jill speak to one another before trying to get out of Underland. “But when Scrubb shook hands with Jill, he said, ‘So long, Jill. Sorry I’ve been a funk and so ratty. I hope you get safe home,’ and Jill said, ‘So long, Eustace. And I’m sorry I’ve been such a pig.’ And this was the first time they had ever used Christian names, because one didn’t do it at school” (SC, p. 191).
And at the end of the book, what does Jill think of when she sees Aslan? “And in less time than it takes to breathe Jill forgot about the dead King of Narnia and remembered only how she had made Eustace fall over the cliff, and how she had helped to muff nearly all the signs, and about all the snappings and quarrelings . . . ‘Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia’” (SC, p. 236).
We can see here that Aslan cares about confession of sin, but there is always something beyond it. In other words, being honest about our faults and failings is like washing up for dinner, so you can enjoy that dinner with clean hands. But imagine if someone just washed up for dinner, all the time, over and over, but they never came to the table? Washing is important, but it is so that we can enjoy the meal.
In The Last Battle, when he first sees him, what is Puzzle’s reaction to Tash? “‘I see now,’ said Puzzle, ‘that I really have been a very bad donkey’” (LB, p. 95). Learning how to make such applications to yourself is one of the great themes that runs throughout all the Narnia books. And if Puzzle can do it, we can do it.
And how does Tirian prepare for battle? “‘Kiss me, Jewel,’ he said. ‘For certainly this is our last night on earth. And if ever I offended against you in any matter great or small, forgive me now.’ ‘Dear King,’ said the Unicorn, ‘I could almost wish you had, so that I might forgive it’” (LB, p. 111).
Not only does C.S. Lewis show us many honest confessions, he also shows us many examples of poor confessions. We have already compared the apology of Edmund to that of Peter. But there are others as well.
For example, what does Eustace do to avoid a duel? “He apologized sulkily” (DT, p. 35). And what continues to be Eustace’s problem? “Caspian tried to stop Eustace talking as if everyone except himself was to blame” (DT, p. 45).
In The Magician’s Nephew, does Digory have a sensitive conscience? Well, no, we would have to say. Not really. “‘Sorry?’ exclaimed Digory. ‘Well, now, if that isn’t just like a girl! What have I done?’” (MN, p. 80).
When he is confronted with the folly of his entire way of living, does Uncle Andrew want to repent? Not at all. “‘Oh, Adam’s sons, how cleverly you defend yourselves against all that might do you good!’” (MN, p. 185).
When Edmund finally meets up with Lucy again (after he met the witch), how does Edmund apologize to Lucy? Fully? “‘All right,’ said Edmund, ‘I see you were right and it is a magic wardrobe after all. I’ll say I’m sorry if you like. But where on earth have you been all this time? I’ve been looking for you everywhere’” (LWW, p. 41). He says the right words, almost, and then moves on immediately to change the subject. Because he did not apologize rightly, what was his problem with going back to England?
“But Edmund secretly thought that it would not be as good fun for him as for her. He would have to admit that Lucy had been right, before all the others, and he felt sure the others would all be on the side of the Fauns and the animals; but he was already more than half on the side of the Witch” (LWW, p. 43). And the reason he was already more than half way on the side of the witch was because of his dishonesty in simple things.
There is one more great thing we can learn about confession of sin in Narnia. It is a very important lesson. We may confess our own sins honestly, or dishonestly. But we are also tempted to confess other people’s sins. In Prince Caspian, how does Aslan head off Lucy’s complaint? “‘They wouldn’t believe me. They’re all so—’ From somewhere deep inside Aslan’s body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl” (PC, p. 142). Aslan doesn’t like it when we confess other people’s sins. We can do that all day long, and our joy will still not come back.
What did Aslan want Lucy to do even if the others didn’t follow? “‘Oh well, I suppose I could’” (PC, p. 142).
And what are we almost never told?
“‘To know what would have happened, child?’ said Aslan. ‘No. Nobody is ever told that . . . But anyone can find out what will happen’” (PC, p. 142).
Confessing our own sins is an important part of our own story. In fact, it is one of the most important parts.