By Steven Norris
For more than seventy-five years, parents and children alike have been captivated by C. S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. In these stories, children find their way into a magical world populated by talking animals, daring adventures, and battles between good and evil. At the heart of Narnia is Aslan, the great lion who serves as a Christlike figure.
In Prince Caspian, Lucy meets Aslan again after being away from Narnia. She immediately notices something different.
“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” he answered.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
When was the last time you stopped to consider the spiritual growth that has occurred in your life? Does God seem bigger or smaller than the God you knew five years ago? Ten years ago? Twenty?
Spiritual growth is the product of a life increasingly oriented toward God and God’s presence. As we develop habits of holiness—prayer, worship, scripture, generosity, community, forgiveness, compassion, service, patience, and contentment—we gradually grow in Christlikeness. God does not grow along with us. Rather, as we grow, our capacity to recognize the immensity of God expands.
Growing in faith also means recognizing the limits of our knowledge. We simply do not know what we do not know. New insights push back the horizon, revealing vistas previously hidden by ignorance. The things that once seemed simple become more complex. Questions we thought were settled sometimes invite deeper reflection. Genuine spiritual growth inevitably produces humility because the more we discover about God, the more we recognize how much remains beyond our understanding.
As we grow, we frequently discover that God is bigger than our fears. Our world offers no shortage of things to fear: those people, that party, that movement, that church, that author, that idea. Fear often produces defensiveness because we feel compelled to protect ourselves and our perceived vulnerabilities. Faith reminds us that fear does not get the final word. We may not know what tomorrow holds, but we trust the One who holds tomorrow.
We also discover that God is bigger than our shame, regret, and guilt. Far too many Christians walk through life hunched beneath the accumulated weight of shame. They have believed the accusations of the “Accuser” described in Revelation 12:10 more readily than the good news proclaimed by the cross. As we grow in faith, we discover that the immensity of God’s grace dwarfs the failures of our individual and collective past.
If God is small enough to fit neatly inside our theological, political, or institutional boxes, perhaps what we have contained is merely our understanding of God. The eternal God will not be confined in that way. As we grow, however, we discover more of the God who was always larger than we imagined—and perhaps we also discover more room for others at the expansive table of God’s grace, love, and mercy.