The Radical Reader

Reading stories that reflect the Greatest Story.

A mirror reflecting sunlight that symbolizes good stories reflecting Truth.

Good Stories Are Like Mirrors: 3 Tips For Seeing Truth

All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.” – C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle

Good stories are like mirrors.

If you ever happen to drag a mirror outside on a sunny day and lay it facing upwards towards the sky, you’ll notice that light rays bounce away from the mirror into all sorts of directions. 

If we stare at the mirror from one direction, we see the light reflecting straight into our eyes. If we stare at it from another direction, we may be reminded of the brilliance of the sun and the crystal clarity of the blue sky. If we stare at it from yet another direction, we may realize that the light shooting into our eyes isn’t nearly as brilliant as the real sun. It’s a simple reflection, although bright, but still dimmer.

Books are powerful tools that can be used in many ways. If you hold up a mirror in a dark room, you’re only going to see reflected darkness. Similarly, many stories are simply written to ponder the depravity of man, exalt in the discord and confusion caused by sin, or highlight the chaos of human pursuits. 

But if you hold up a mirror to the sun, you’re going to see light rays shooting out into the surrounding darkness, illuminating it and transforming it. 

A good story should act like a mirror. It should reflect the light and truth of powerful realities. It should remind us of the Greatest Hero. And it should retell the Greatest Story, albeit differently and from a different perspective, while still reflecting truth.

A good story should be like a mirror that is aimed directly toward the sunlight.

Mirrors Reflect

When sunlight splashes across the surface of a mirror, the reflected rays, although dimmer, are scattered into the surrounding darkness. A good mirror reflects sunlight. A good story should reflect truth.

When I read The Chronicles of Narnia, I see hints and traces of the battle and the story that I’m a part of. When Edmund is spared from death by Aslan’s sacrifice, I feel the radical injustice of Christ’s sacrifice for those who hated him. When Susan rejects Narnia as a fairy-tale, my heart burns for my lost family members and friends who won’t believe in another world. And when Aslan shakes his mane, I am certainly reminded that we shall have spring again… for the King will return to defeat the dragon once and for all.

By staring into the pages of good stories – radical stories – I am staring into mirrors that are reflecting sunlight. The characters and the adventures and the worlds are only reflections of the Greatest Hero, the Greatest Story, and this world we’ve been placed into as messengers and heralds of the kingdom.

Good stories – radical stories – reflect light and hope and pain and power. They reflect truth and goodness and beauty. And in reflecting, they remind us of the Greatest Story.

Mirrors Remind

A mirror in a dark room will only reflect the darkness surrounding it. It cannot produce its own light, and can only reflect darkness. There must be a light source for the mirror to reflect.

Good stories, like good mirrors, reflect the light. They give us a glimpse of something beyond our grasp, a power greater than we can fathom, and a future far better than our imagination can reach. 

Good stories – radical stories – remind us of who we are, who we belong to, and why we are here. They remind us of the adventure we are currently in, the costs we must pay, and of the battle that we must endure. 

In different ways, through different modes, and set in different worlds, radical stories teach us to hope for a better future, a brighter tomorrow, the promised King.

Because Christ, as the Greatest Story reminds us, is going to return. And happily-ever-after will come true.

But stories come in different packages and different wrappings. Like mirrors made with gold edges or silver embossing or wooden edging or metal frames, they all reflect the image differently. 

When I read about Eustace’s lust for gold and his heart-breaking downfall, it serves as a reminder for me of the dangers of greed and avarice and of mankind’s own fall in the Garden of Eden. Frodo’s painful struggle to the top of Mount Doom reminds me of the battle every Christian must endure for the sake of their King and His Message. And when Aragorn finally sits on his throne and marries his bride, I’m reminded of the final return of the King and the wedding feast that will be enjoyed by all of the redeemed.

The mirrors may all look different, but they still remind us of the light that is shining.

They still remind us of truth.

Mirrors Retell

The expression “mirror image” is meant truthfully. A mirror never perfectly and accurately represents the image it’s portraying. A two-dimensional, inanimate surface will never be able to completely encapsulate everything about a three-dimensional, living object. And so a mirror retells what it sees. 

Not perfectly. Not clearly. But dimly.

Books are like dim, seemingly lifeless retellings of animate, vibrant realities. When I read about heroes and heroines and courage and bravery, the hope that stirs within me reminds me of Christ, His courage, and His sacrifice. When I read about daring missions, painful endeavors, and heroic sacrifices, I’m reminded of the greatest rescue mission in all of history, and the role that I have to play in the story that is unfolding. 

The adventures and the perils that books use to excite their readers are only black-and-white retellings of actual battles, real perils, true adventures, and manifested victories. 

Good stories – radical stories – retell adventures with courage and bravery and hope and pain and beauty.

Books And Mirrors

Radical stories should be like mirrors bathed in sunlight. Reflections and reminders and retellings of the real thing.

When you read a story about courage and heroism, do you see Christ’s sacrificial death? When you read a story with dragons and darkness, do you see Satan’s power that will one day be completely defeated? When you read about bittersweet endings and joyous reunions, do you dream of Heaven and the final victory Christ will have?

We as Christians live in a foreign world. Until Christ comes to take His ransomed Home, we’re here on this earth surrounded by dim reflections of death-defying, dragon-crushing, hope-filled realities.

Good stories – radical stories – are like mirrors, reflecting, retelling, and reminding us of these often hidden realities. 

They’re only reflections, but through them we can see Truth.