Pilgrim's Progress is Not For The Weak - There Are Lions

My shoes were barely intact, but neither was I. My clothes smelled of sweat and my unwashed skin. My left third toe felt broken and my elbow still dripped blood from a fall earlier that day. My shoes guided me forward. Only the instinct to move kept me on, my body drained of strength and vibrancy ten days ago in the Slough. I had lain there too long.

The darkness made it impossible to see my steps so pebbles joined my toes and became part of my soles. When I fell, rocks embedded themselves, uninvited in my palms, where they screamed, shoving and grinding against my flesh. The Palace Beautiful must be just ahead! My limbs ached and dragged like lead, pulling me back from where I wanted to go. Yet the ache in my chest pulled me on, to where I wanted to be, to sleep in the Palace Beautiful, but every inch of my body failed and began to weigh me down, making my goal impossible.

Then fear took me and I froze in the dark, a copse to my right and my left. I moved not a muscle, nerve or hair for the terror that possessed me. One is told to fear lions and we do, while admiring their grace, power and beauty. Remarkable creatures in story, but one never expects to meet one.

What paralyzed me was the sound of chains, sliding, moving in the dark. If you've heard tell of one, Christian's journey, you know why I froze. To my left and to my right sat two lions. Most lions are the size of a pony or a large dog. These lions were as tall as elephants and as loud and twice as long. These ruling cats, both male, with full mane and maturity, sat poised on marble pillars. At my approach, the left one flinched. Elegantly, the muscles in its shoulders flexed and a wave rippled through its body, neck to tail. Its chain, attached to a six-inch thick collar, clicked together musically in reaction to the motion.

Its right forepaw stretched one claw forward, stroking the marble podium with a nerve disturbing sound. The creatures eyes and those of its partner to my right, were on me. I counted the flecks of hazel in their eyes and the rare threads of gold in their manes. Unmoving, unmistakably they watched me. My insides trembled and my heart pushed against the frames of my body. I felt and heard my blood between my ears. For a lifetime we stayed thus. I locked by fear, they by design and hunger. They never gave up hoping for a meal, no matter how dirty or small the morsel. They would devour me, fight for my bones, be greedy and triumphant in my destruction.

Finally, my shoes pulled me forward as I inwardly screamed in terror, but I only made it a tiny, baby step. The lions leapt from their pedestals, landing with thunderous explosions, their weight enough to crack the earth asunder. Their elegance and beauty was gone and they now stood, ferocious, hungry, straining on their chains to reach my pathetic body by means of tooth and claw. They stood side-by-side towering over my path. They were held firm by their collars and I saw now, I was supposed to walk right between their paws. Beneath their heads, in full reach of their breath, only just out of reach of their claws and teeth.

I was required to walk between the lions. My heart sank and I slid backwards on my bottom, away from the lions, away from the Palace Beautiful.

Now, this is my own version of this scene, of course, but it puts me in mind of today’s culture and Christians. The pilgrim is a young believer, a Christian on their journey. Everyone eventually faces questions of faith and we must make a choice that will then guide us over hard roads.

The Palace Beautiful is the place God wants us to be. The lions are the clashing place between “religion” and the modern culture. A roomful of Christians won't agree on everything and religion is a word that is almost defensive and harmful to people who believe in a God of Grace and Justice. I think the Church is losing Christians to the lions.

They walk through and fall to everything fake religion tells them. They can't see the difference between religion and real faith. They get torn up trying to be strong against a culture ready to destroy and pervert anything pure and lovely. Their friends even tear them down and if they don't have the will to fight or the knowledge to discuss things, they abandon faith for friendship, acceptance and convenience. The lions get 'em. College students are the largest lost to the lions.

Something should change! These Christians are precious and being wasted as premium lion chow. We need to train them to grow up, grow strong, grow independent of a world, while dependently living in it. We need to teach those that come after us, how to face the lions and walk through, to help those in the path of the lions, to be strong and courageous, for the Lord their God is with them. We need to stand by the gates of the Palace Beautiful and call them in.

I slid back two steps when I heard a voice. It called from the gate of Palace Beautiful. The porter's house opened and there stood my brother. His tall frame, a silhouette in the light that spilled from the door. The light shown and the shadow of his head fell on me and I knew I was wrong.

I was weak in mind and body but I knew now I didn't need my own strength to cross the lions path.
“Shaina, what are you doing!? Come on!” My brother yelled as he moved from the path and the light created a straight narrow way from me to gates of the Palace. It shown softly now, its radiance leaking out the gate to slap my face. I rose to my feet and walked through the lions. It felt like walking through a desert with constant heat streaming down on my neck. Only the air smelled of dead things, rancid blood and sweaty lion. The noise of their roars deafened me and I repeated the words of the King, over and over, my lips moving as tears fell on my debilitated shoes.

Every now and then there would be a huge gust of wind that nearly knocked me over as a paw swiped at me, but I stood firm. This would be followed by roaring as if the ocean was about to break over my head. Their claws were mere millimeters from my shoes, the teeth within arms reach, but my dirty, hole-filled shoes crept forward in the narrow path of light and they couldn't touch me. Once I was past the lions, I ran nimbly, without fear. My brother met me at the gate.

“It's about time. Sheesh, come on.”
I entered the Palace Beautiful. 

6/2011