“Please, your Majesty,” said the Fox, “we were given them. And if I might make so bold as to drink your Majesty’s very good health – ”
“Who gave them to you?” said the Witch.
“F-F-F-Father Christmas,” stammered the Fox.
“What?” roared the Witch, springing from the sledge and taking a few strides nearer to the terrified animals. “He has not been here! He cannot have been here! How dare you – but no. Say you have been lying and you shall even now be forgiven.”
At that moment one of the young squirrels lost its head completely.
“He has – he has – he has!” it squeaked, beating its little spoon on the table. Edmund saw the Witch bite her lips so that a drop of blood appeared on her white cheek. Then she raised her wand. “Oh, don’t, don’t, please don’t,” shouted Edmund, but even while he was shouting she had waved her wand and instantly where the merry party had been there were only statues of creatures (one with its stone fork fixed forever half-way to its stone mouth) seated round a stone table on which there were stone plates and a stone plum pudding.
Kelly Keller, says it beautifully in her post on storywarren.com:
I read a quote once about the The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe where the author stated that some feasts in Narnia are seen as “acts of war.” Eating and drinking is not normally viewed as a combative act, so the thought piqued my curiosity.
The animals’ Christmas feast (above) is an act of war to the White Witch, because it tells the truth about her authority. The witch views it as an act of treason; she is threatened by the celebration. The thaw is underway, Father Christmas is in the wood, and the witch’s reign is drawing to a close.
The animals’ feast bellows out hope, joy, and the truth that Aslan is on the move. Who knew that some plum pudding and holly could be so offensive?
Lewis writes in Mere Christianity, “Enemy-occupied territory–that is what this world is. Christianity is the story of how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us to take part in a great campaign of sabotage.”
We gathered together Thursday night and declared with our small feast that a true and better feast is coming.
In the words of Douglas McKelvey in his book of liturgies, Every Moment Holy:
May this our feast fall like a great hammer blow against that brittle night,
Shattering the gloom, reawakening our hearts,
stirring our imaginations, focusing our vision
On the kingdom of heaven that is to come
On the kingdom that is promised
On the kingdom that is already, indeed, among us,
For the resurrection of all good things has already joyfully begun.
May this feast be an echo of that great supper of the Lamb,
and a foreshadowing of the great celebration that awaits the children of God.