How does Aletheia save us from the shadows of Lethe? The mythological river Lethe in the kingdom of Hades is the river of âoblivion.â Lethe means oblivion or forgetfulness. The river flows through hell, and whatever falls into Lethe is forgotten.
Surprisingly, Lethe is related to the Greek aletheia, truth. The prefix âaâ means âthe opposite ofâ and Lethe means oblivion. Truth is something that doesnât fall into Lethe. In Greek, aletheia is something that doesnât fall into oblivion.
Salvaged time is the time snatched from oblivion. It is aletheia.
âYes, says the Spirit, they are blessed indeed, for they will rest from their hard work; for their good deeds follow them!â Rev. 14:13
Whatever we have done in chronological time to transcend chronological time remains. It follows us. It has been saved from Lethe. It is aletheia. It cannot disappear. Michelangelo said,
âThe true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.â
In aletheia, we turn shadows into glimpses of divine perfection. They cannot disappear. We do something âinto the law in which we were madeâ – to use Tolkienâs vernacular. We become sub-creators.
We have glimpsed divine perfection, and we reproduce it within the confines of our shadow world. The only way to salvage the world of shadows from falling into the shadow of oblivion is to transcend the shadows.
Whether we bake bread, write articles, talk to a friend over a cup of tea, build a cathedral, or fix cars – if we glimpse and reflect the divine spark in what we do, we engage in aletheia. We transcend the shadow land.
Everything in the shadow land is a shadow until we see through it and infuse it with divine perfection. We can do it by virtue of our divine birth. We have that spark in us. We are that spark. We are but shadows transcending ourselves by pursuing aletheia every moment of the day.
How does Aletheia save us from the shadows of Lethe? When we pursue aletheia, it follows us. We rise above Lethe. We are timeless.
âGreat art is an instant arrested in eternity.â James Huniker
What is the meaning of Aslan’s name in Narnia? I have always found it curious that the name of Aslan caused such different reactions in the Pevensie children. In fact, when I first read that passage, something jumped in me too:
âAt the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.â
âBut Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror.â
It felt like some judgment was going on. Not externally but internally. The name of Aslan was the ultimate revealer of what was in a person. It amplified the contents of your heart. If there was light in it, you could almost touch it. If there was darkness there, you couldnât help but feel horror.
When I read John 3:19, it all came together:
âThis is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the light.â
What is the meaning of Aslan’s name in Narnia? When the light comes, it reveals what is. Thereâs nothing else to judge. Judgment is internal. It jumps from within us every moment we encounter the Light. We either delight in the light or hide from it. Depending on the state of my consciousness in the moment, the Light will either make me lighter or heavier.
The same curious thing happened in The Lord of the Rings when the company entered LothlĂłrien. The effect of entering the realm of the Lady was such that all the company felt the presence of some inexplicable magic.
For some, it was a delight. For others, torment. Tolkien seems to suggest that the whole land was Galadrielâs mirror â not just the stone mirror itself. As the fellowship walked through the enchanted wood, they saw their secret thoughts and desires revealed as if in a mirror.
Some liked it; others hated it. But they couldnât hide from it. They stepped into a land of the Last Judgement unfolding 24/7. Galadriel wasnât the Judge â she was the revealer of what was in each personâs heart. The Judgement was internal, not external.
For Boromir it was torment. For Aragorn, it was a delight. Boromir said,
âIt is said that few come out who once go in; and of that few none have escaped unscathed.â âSay not unscathed, but if you say unchanged, then maybe you will speak the truth,â said Aragorn.â
In the final analysis, we are all judged by how we respond to our encounter with the Ultimate Beauty. For some, it is an eternal delight. For some, eternal torment. If you come with a pure heart, it is a delight. If you come with an idol, it is a curse.
What is the symbolism of Pygmalion and Galatea? As we walked around a quaint souvenir shop in Wytheville, VA, called Wilderness Road World Trading, I found myself gazing at some of the statues for minutes. Dancers looked like they had frozen into their position a moment before I glanced at them. Faces looked so real that it seemed they could raise their eyes back at you any moment. They made me think of Pygmalion and Galatea.
The story of Pygmalion is really simple but deep. According to Ovidâs Metamorphoses, Pygmalion was a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he had carved. The statue was so perfect that he wanted it to come alive. He prayed to Aphrodite and asked her to make the statue come alive. Aphrodite granted his wish.
Michelangelo said,
âEvery block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.â
Every artist understands Pygmalionâs feelings. When you pour your soul into something you make, you want it to come alive and have a life of its own. You want it to be separate from you. You look at the work of your hands, you love it, and you want it to be free.
Love, by its nature, wants to free its object. Separation is a necessary overflow of love. Love diversifies. And yet, deep down it knows that the more separate you are from the one you love, the more you are one with the one you love. This is a chief paradox of love. You want the object of your love to be free, separate, and yet, it does not lead to division. It leads to unity.
Divisions are always the result of forced, contrived unity. The devil forces unity to divide. God diversifies to unite. The devil erases all differences and causes splits. God creates distinctions and causes unity. Pygmalion wanted Galatea to have a life of her own so he could love her. Itâs the only thing love can do. Love must free its object. Hate must swallow its object â consume it into itself.
Love is by its nature trinitarian. The Three Divine Persons are totally separate from each other and yet, totally one. Every Person of the Trinity wants the Other to be as Other as possible, and yet, the more âotherâ they are, the more one they become. They are totally free from each other and yet, inextricably bound.
If you love something you make, you want it to exist separately from you. Pygmalion freed Galatea from the stone slab so she could love him back. True love feels the trinitarian dance between separation and unity. It is after harmony. It wonât settle for less.
