Mr. Tumnus' Dubious Eschaton

From The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe

Tumnus' words told the story. He experienced a flood of regret for his actions of the last few hours, and disclosed fully his dark intentions. He had spent hours with Lucy, a new arrival to Narnia, giving her tea, telling her fables and myths, and playing music, all with the intent of lulling her to sleep and then turning her in to the wolves of the White Witch's secret police. Each and every one of Tumnus' actions had been part of a calculated plot to betray the young human, for everyone in occupied Narnia knew that the Queen would reward very richly one who aided in the capture of a Daughter of Eve or a Son of Adam.

Here is Tumnus' disclosure to Lucy of his ill intent:

"That's the worst of it," said Mr Tumnus with a deep groan. "I'm a kidnapper for her, that's what I am. Look at me, Daughter of Eve. Would you believe that I'm the sort of Faun to meet a poor innocent child in the wood, one that had never done me any harm, and pretend to be friendly with it, and invite it home to my cave, all for the sake of lulling it asleep and then handing it over to the White Witch?"

"No," said Lucy. "I'm sure you wouldn't do anything of the sort."

"But I have," said the Faun.

"Well," said Lucy rather slowly (for she wanted to be truthful and yet not be too hard on him), "well, that was pretty bad. But you're so sorry for it that I'm sure you will never do it again."

"Daughter of Eve, don't you understand?" said the Faun. "It isn't something I have done. I'm doing it now, this very moment."

"What do you mean?" cried Lucy, turning very white.

"You are the child," said Tumnus. "I had orders from the White Witch that if ever I saw a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve in the wood, I was to catch them and hand them over to her. And you are the first I've ever met. And I've pretended to be your friend an asked you to tea, and all the time I've been meaning to wait till you were asleep and then go and tell Her."

"Oh, but you won't, Mr Tumnus," said Lucy. "Yo won't, will you? Indeed, indeed you really mustn't."

"And if I don't," said he, beginning to cry again "she's sure to find out. And she'll have my tail cut off and my horns sawn off, and my beard plucked out, and she'll wave her wand over my beautiful clove hoofs and turn them into horrid solid hoofs like wretched horse's. And if she is extra and specially angry she'll turn me into stone and I shall be only statue of a Faun in her horrible house until the four thrones at Cair Paravel are filled and goodness knows when that will happen, or whether it will ever happen at all."(1)

We can only imagine what was going through his mind that caused Tumnus to back away from the plan. It probably had something to do with the sweet and innocent look on the girl's face, as well as the stare from his father's portrait above the mantle. In the end, Tumnus chose instead to tell the truth by disclosing his deceit and helping his unwitting captive to escape, despite the fact that he was fully aware that it might invite the full force of the Queen's wrath. Tumnus turned the corner from deceit to righteousness in the blink of an eye. It was a remarkable transformation indeed. But what caused Tumnus to vaccilate back and forth in such a manner? His words give us a clue.

At the end of the section, Tumnus says, "....I shall be only statue of a Faun in her horrible house until the four thrones at Cair Paravel are filled and goodness knows when that will happen, or whether it will ever happen at all." Tumnus was unsure if the reason for hope was real. He was not fully won to the idea that the prophecy of the Filled Thrones was true. Tumnus had what we can call a doubtful eschatology. Eschatology is that part of theology which deals with The End of All Things, or, in Narnia, the filling of the thrones at Cair Paravel. Instead of living in the hope of the four filled thrones of Cair Paravel, Tumnus lives on the fence, straddling both commitment and disbelief. He believes that Cair Paravel's prophecy, if fulfilled, will lead to the restoration of Narnia's spring, and the ascendency of Aslan. But he lives within the "if" of the idea. From this doubt came his openness to deceit in pursuit of favor in the Queen's frigid Kingdom. At least he knew that it was real.

It is like that with Christian belief. If we doubt the return of Christ in this world, and the subsequent lifting of the veil of human illusion that occurs in that Moment, we have a very hollow faith indeed. Only with belief in the arrival of the presence of God can we have faith in a victorious resolution of history and an end of time itself. If the Christ we worship is the Christ of the past tense, a character to be studied as a divine avatar who "was" and "taught" and "lived and died", then we have missed the living Christ Himself. Yet, if our faith is infused with the ever-present and ever-impending moment of God's full and manifest presence, then we shall welcome the danger of confronting those who occupy paradise.

May we seek hope for our future in the truth of the fulfilled Moment of God's arrival in our midst.... again.



(1) Lewis, Clive Staples; The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, MacMillan Publishing, 1970 edition, pp. 16-17.