In the Service of the Lion: Gifts Given, Callings Discovered
A Devotional Reflection on C.S. Lewis, Romans 12:3–8 and 1 Corinthians 12:4–7
C.S. Lewis tells the story of Narnia as a world under a curse—frozen, fractured, and longing for restoration—until the Lion returns and calls unlikely participants into his redemptive work. The drama that follows is not about individuals saving the world through great heroic acts, but about servants learning to trust the One who can.
In The Chronicles of Narnia, Narnia is ultimately restored because Aslan acts—sacrificially, decisively, and graciously. The Pevensie children; Peter, Edmund, Susan & Lucy, are drawn into the story not as saviors, but as servants who are invited to participate in what Aslan is doing. That vision aligns closely with the apostle Paul’s teaching on the body of Christ.
Paul writes, “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (Romans 12:3). From the outset, Our role begins with humility—recognizing that our place in God’s work is received, not earned, and not something we produce.
When the Pevensie children are first drawn into Narnia, none of them understands the scope of what is happening. They are not given a blueprint for the future, nor are they asked to rescue the kingdom through their own initiative. Instead, they are each given gifts—tools suited to who they are becoming—and invited to trust Aslan. Importantly, this invitation does not assume their readiness or spiritual strength; it is extended even to those who are still deeply flawed.
Peter receives a sword and shield—not because he can defeat evil on his own, but because he must learn to lead under Aslan’s authority. Lucy is given a healing cordial, reflecting her calling to trust, to see clearly, and to bring restoration where others are wounded—always in dependence on Aslan’s life-giving power. Susan is entrusted with a bow and a horn, gifts of protection and discernment, meant to be used in watchful service rather than self-assertion. Edmund’s story is especially instructive. He is absent when his brother and sisters receive their gifts. He has joined the White Witch. Edmund enters the story marked by resentment, betrayal, and self-interest. Yet he is not cast aside! Through forgiveness that he does not earn, his failure becomes the very place where humility and wisdom take root.
None of these gifts are interchangeable. None are self-generated. And none are effective apart from Aslan himself.
Paul presses this truth further in Romans 12: “For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ” (12:4–5). The children’s roles only make sense because Aslan is at the center. They are not cooperating to save Narnia; they are responding to the one who is already at work restoring it. Their faithfulness matters, but it is always secondary—participatory, not primary.
What’s amazing is how their calling unfolds throughout the story. It is not driven by confidence or clarity, but by trust and obedience. Lucy follows Aslan when the others doubt. Peter steps forward because leadership is required, not because he feels prepared. Edmund learns to receive grace before he is ever trusted again.
Paul echoes this in 1 Corinthians 12: “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit… To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (12:4, 7). Gifts are not evidence of spiritual superiority, nor are they tools for self-importance. They are expressions of grace—given by God, empowered by the Spirit, and meant to serve others under Christ’s lordship.
This reframes how we understand our own lives. We do not save the world. Christ does. We do not heal the church. Christ does. We are not the center of God’s redemptive work—we are recipients of it! And yet, astonishingly, we are invited to participate.
Romans 12:6 reminds us, “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them.” Not to prove ourselves. Not to replace Christ. But to serve him—faithfully, humbly, and in love.
Like the Pevensie children, we are drawn into a story far larger than ourselves. Restoration belongs to the Lion. Redemption belongs to the Cross. Our calling is simply this: to receive what he has given, to trust where he leads, and to offer our gifts in faithful service to the One who is already making all things new!
And as we do, we discover a freeing and hopeful truth: we are not responsible for saving the story—only for faithfully playing our part in it.
Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ,
You are the true Lion—the one who brings life where there was death,
hope where there was despair, and restoration where all seemed lost.
We confess that we are not the saviors of the story.
You are.
Thank you for the grace that finds us where we are,
not when we are strong, but when we are willing.
Thank you for the gifts you place in our hands—
not as proof of our worth, but as invitations to trust you more deeply.
Teach us humility, that we would not think too highly of ourselves
or too lightly of the calling you have given us.
Help us resist comparison and fear,
and instead offer what we have—faithfully, joyfully, and in love.
Give us courage to follow when the path is unclear,
patience to serve when our role feels small,
and grace to receive forgiveness when we fall short.
May our obedience flow not from striving, but from gratitude
for the work you have already done on our behalf.
Form us into one body, united in Christ,
using many gifts for the good of others and the glory of your name.
And as we walk in the story you are writing,
keep our eyes fixed on you—the Author, the Redeemer, the King.
We place our lives again in your service,
trusting that you are making all things new.
Amen.