I’ve become a schoolmarm. Teaching at a university-model classical Christian school has changed my life – or, at least, the way I conduct my life on a daily basis. Lesson plans, gradebooks, and showing up three days a week to a workplace are all new to me.
One of the great blessings that has come out of this is teaching a curriculum called “Omnibus,” which is a combination of theology and world literature. I’ve been reading Gilgamesh, The Code of Hammurabi, and other classics. One has had a profound effect on me: Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis.
What? You’ve never heard of it? Lewis regarded this, his final novel, as his masterpiece. It is a retelling of the story of Cupid and Psyche from the point of view of Psyche’s older and unattractive sister, Orual. It is a story of redemption, framed in a pagan myth.
It doesn’t mention Jesus, and all the gods are mysterious and incomprehensible. And yet it is the essence of gospel.
I think of the book of Esther, which tells of God rescuing a nation without mentioning God at all.
Can this be, fellow writers? Can we write of God without saying His name? Is it good? Is it necessary?