Dung-Coloured Glasses

Adults tend to chuckle at young people in the first stage of love, blind to the faults of their beloved, and mock the young and the naive who view the world through rose-coloured glasses.  But what about most adults, those of us who have replaced rose-coloured glasses with dung-coloured glasses? We should laugh just as loudly when we realize this tendency to see darkly. Yet, we think worldly cynicism is a sign of maturity.

Granted, the problems faithful Catholics face today seem overwhelming.

However, the truth is that when my focus is solely on the trials and problems of life, natural catastrophes, and the apparent triumphs of the godless, I feel miserable and hopeless. Then nothing, not riches, nor prestige or a change in circumstances, nothing can change my interior unhappiness. My only hope is for a dramatic conversion where I allow God to transform me. Then I can see life, problems and suffering as God sees them

A scene at the end of C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia has stayed with me for decades. The fictitious characterization of the grumpy, miserable dwarves taught me about my own dung-coloured glasses because their perception of reality was so obviously skewed, their behaviour hilariously outrageous. This scene is an example of what cognitive therapy tries to teach us about the power of our presumptions to imprison us in misery. Our entrenched paradigms and our refusal to take off our dung-coloured glasses prevents us from experiencing new life in Christ.

In the last novel of the Naria series, The Last Battle, lies have bred fear and hope has been stomped on. Near the end of the novel, the enemies of Aslan the lion have imprisoned the children, a few animals, Prince Caspian, as well as some disgruntled dwarves in a shed that is dank and dark, filled with putrid straw with only stale water and rotten cabbages to eat. A war against the evil forces rages outside.

Outwardly, it seems that all is lost, yet the children, the Prince and the animals hold on to the belief that Aslan, a Christ figure, will come and save them and all of Narnia. Of course, the dwarves mock their seemingly ridiculous faith.

Suddenly Aslan appears, defeats the enemy and the back of the prison crumbles revealing a glorious sight. It is Narnia, but more resplendent, filled with a radiant light. Everything is more colourful, beautiful, and fragrant. It is a resurrected Narnia. Heaven has come to earth. A table, covered with a white cloth and laden with delicacies, beckons them.

Everyone celebrates by feasting on the delicious food laid before them as they delight in the beauty surrounding them. Yet, the dwarves hang back, suspicious and mistrustful. When they finally venture a nibble of a delicacy they spit it out in disgust. All they taste is rotten cabbages.  All they see is the dark, dank prison. The grumpy dwarves refuse this new life that the other characters are enjoying right beside them.

Many of us are no better than dwarves, wearing dung-colored glasses, and viewing God’s creation darkly. The solution?  Just take off your dung-coloured glasses and turn to this world’s Aslan who is Christ our Saviour. He will purify you and transform you so that you are able see the world as God sees it.