On Being a Normal Horse

I recently read The Horse and His Boy and since I had long forgotten the plot and the conclusion, I enjoyed the whole thing as if it was the first time. What a brilliant, well-constructed story. It takes some time to get going but by the end the story fits snuggly like a glove, resolving every uncertainty and lose end in a work of pure Lewisian craftsmanship. On top of that, I believe it speaks directly to some issues in myself, namely a preoccupation with self with tendencies to self-pity.

I was struck by the self-pity of Bree, the kidnapped Narnian horse who in the story is escaping homeward from the southern deserts of Calormen. He is a charger, a beautiful white war horse who has fought many battles, even earning acclaim for his feats in this foreign kingdom. But during the flight northwards to his homeland, in one instance he does not appear so grand. Bree and his company are attacked by a large lion and it is Shasta the young boy, not Bree the warhorse, who turns around to face the lion in an attempt to defend two females in their company. Bree continues bolting away from the scene in a dash of panic, leaving the others to a likely death.

Later we see Bree in a state of despondency at his failure. He was not supposed to run away, he should have faced the danger and sacrificed himself for the weaker members. He should have acted heroically, but the moment came and went and he was missing in action. I understand this feeling very well. In my mind I both imagine and expect that I will act according to the lofty standards I know I should be able to reach. But I fail! I do not live up to my own expectations. Some things I put considerable work into do not seem to materialize and make an impact. Other times my actions toward my family do not reflect the righteous example I am called to model to them. There have been several what I call "golden opportunities" presented to me over the years to speak up about the gospel of Jesus Christ to unbelievers, yet I remember them as Bree remembers his failure: as opportunities missed. Moments where instead of speaking up in boldness I said nothing and let the opportunity pass. In light of my failures I have the same tendency to self-pity as Bree.

But Bree is later chided by "the hermit" for his despondency: 

"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. You’re not quite the great Horse you had come to think, from living among poor dumb horses. Of course you were braver and cleverer than them. You could hardly help being that. It doesn’t follow that you’ll be anyone very special in Narnia. But as long as you know you’re nobody special, you’ll be a very decent sort of Horse, on the whole."

Bree was used to comparing himself to the non-talking animal horses of the Calormen and in comparison to them he was heroic and renowned. But now that he was entering the land of Narnia teeming with intelligent talking creatures, he will be demoted to normal horse status. The hermit’s point was that as long as Bree remembers he is "not very special", as long as he lowers the grand image he has of himself to accord with reality, he will be a good horse and be able to take failures and successes in stride.

In the same way I wonder if my issues with self-pity stem from that same thinking too much of myself. When I fail to live up to my standards for myself, I come crashing down much like Bree. But, what if, I am just a normal person? A common sinner whom God has saved by His great grace? Someone not destined to reach that greatness on the horizon, but a normal life of faith and service to God instead? It makes the bar not so high and the falls not so tragic. It is likely that many of my generation's issues can be corrected by dealing with this self-preoccupation so common in us. We are not the great horses we have come to think we are, and it is okay!

So when no one "gets saved" when they hear my guest sermon, or when I do not seem to be making this fire from heaven impact in the world I expected when I was younger, or when the common, everyday tasks become struggles in themselves—I should remember: I am not a very special horse after all. I have no business expecting continual lightning form heaven or everything I touch to turn to gold. And that is just fine.

Lewis has said elsewhere "humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less." It is not that the humble man is full of self-loathing, he simply forgets himself. Robert Murray M'Cheyne has said, I think with sublimity, "For every look at self, take ten looks at Christ." That is a sure way to free yourself from labyrinth disappointment to be found inside. I am not the hero of this story, I am not going to change the world. Any good that arises in my life is not of my doing, it is Christ in me. Therefore look less at self and more at him.