Last night when I was reading "The Great Divorce" by C.S. Lewis I was struck with an allegory that reminded me of how much I cling to my weaknesses.

There is a man carrying a red lizard on his shoulder and the lizard is always whispering in the man's ear. The man is truly annoyed with the lizard and I would say that 98% of him wants to be rid of it.

In due season the man is approached by an angel who offers to rid him of the lizard. In fact he has the power to kill it, but only with the man's permission. Now the man is reluctant...in a way he clings to the companionship of the lizard even though the little runt only means him harm. The angel tries to persuade the man to let him kill the beast, but the man is frightened..."I'd need to be in good health for the operation. Some other day, perhaps."
"There is no other day. All days are present now."
"Get back! You're burning me. How can I tell you to kill it? You'd kill me if you did."
"It is not so."
"Why, you're hurting me now."
"I never said it would't hurt you. I said it wouldn't kill you. This moment contains all moments."
"Why are you torturing me? You are jerring at me. How can I let you tear me to pieces? If you wanted to help me, why didn't you kill the damned thing without asking me--before I knew? It would be all over by now if you had."
"I cannot kill it against your will. It is imposible. Have I your permission?"

Well at this point the lizard starts to chatter to the man pleading for his life and promising to behave and how unnatural it would be to live without him. Again the angel asks for permission and at last the man relents. He screams in agony as the little reptile is twisted and then flung.

Well, to make a long story a little shorter. The man is physically and spiritually transformed. Not only that, but the creature that tormented him is indeed killed, but then becomes a silvery white stallion. "The new-made man turned and clapped the new horse's neck. It nosed his bright body. Horse and master breathed each into the other's nostrils." The man thanks the angel, mounts the horse and they gallop away towards their divine destiny.

"Do ye understand all this my Son?" said the Teacher.
"I don't know about all, Sir," said I. "Am I right in thinking the Lizard really turned into the Horse?"
"Aye. But it was killed first. Ye'll not forget that part of the story?"
"I'll try not to, Sir. But does it mean that everything--everything--that is in us can go on to the Mountains?"
"Nothing, not even the best and noblest, can go on as it now is. Nothing, not even what is lowest and most bestial, will not be raised again if it submits to death. It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. Flesh and blood cannot come to the Mountains. Not because they are too rank, but because they are too weak. What is a Lizard compared with a stallion? Lust is a poor, weak, whimpering whispering thing compared with the richness and energy of desire which will arise when lust has been killed."

So, am I willing to lose the Lizard?

I want the "richness and energy of desire which will arise" if I will but lose the Lizard.



Seek not for riches but for wisdom; and, behold, the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto you, and then shall you be made rich. Behold, he that hath eternal life is rich. D&C 11