“The Lion Who Calls Us Home”

11/23/2025

My friends, if it surprises you to see me again in Oxford, I assure you it has surprised me far more. One does not expect to return from that undiscovered country from which no traveler is supposed to return. Yet here I am—by God’s permission—to speak once more of the realities that matter most. Perhaps it is fitting that one who once wrote children’s stories about a world where a Lion could rise again should be granted a brief hour to speak with you of the real Lion, who rose not in fiction but in fact.

Tonight, I should like to speak—not of myth alone, but of what lies behind myth—of Christ, of the purpose of this strange pilgrimage called mortality, and of righteousness, which I now see more clearly than ever before. And I intend to speak plainly, for the hour grows late.

I. The World Behind the World

We live in a world that pretends it is self-contained. Our age believes it can explain itself with forces and particles, laws and equations. Yet even when I lived among you, it was clear that behind the world of atoms lay a world of meanings, and this deeper world is the true one. Death has clarified the matter entirely.

What I once called “the true myth”—the story of God who became Man, died, rose, and calls all men to become like Him—has revealed itself to me as not merely true but foundational. All other truths, beauties, virtues, and joys hang from it like ornaments on a living tree.

Christ is not an addition to the world; He is the hinge upon which all worlds turn.

He is the center of reality—the Logos—yet He is also the Shepherd who calls each soul by name. And He calls not simply for admiration or moral tidiness but for transformation. He intends to make us creatures of glory.

II. Why We Are Here: The Purpose of Mortality

From where I have recently come, the purpose of life appears far simpler, and far sterner, than many expect.

We are here to learn to become the kind of beings who can live in the presence of unfiltered, unbounded truth.

The presence of God is not safe. It is not comfortable. It is not dimmed for our convenience. It is radiant—so radiant that anything false in us recoils from it in terror. Heaven is a region where all masks fall away, all illusions die, and only truth can breathe.

And this is why life is difficult. It is meant to be.

Pain, disappointment, duty, sacrifice, faith, and obedience are not obstacles to God’s plan; they are the very instruments by which souls are prepared to absorb and radiate His light.

The purpose of life is not happiness as the world defines it. It is not achievement, reputation, wealth, or even the avoidance of suffering. The purpose of life is:

To be remade in Christ’s likeness and image.
To choose Him freely.
To learn goodness until goodness becomes our nature.
To love truth until truth becomes our joy.
To become the sort of creatures who would actually want to live in heaven.

This is the great project of mortality. And God, I assure you, takes it very seriously.

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III. The Battle Between the Natural Man and the Eternal One

Some of you imagine righteousness as a pleasant manner, a good reputation, a proper moral decency, or some form of imagined divine approval. That is child’s play. Heaven demands far more.

Every human soul holds a great contest between two selves:

1. The natural self—proud, defensive, easily offended, hungry for praise, resentful when corrected, and inclined to excuse its own faults.
2. The sanctified self—humble, truthful, teachable, courageous, and willing to sacrifice anything that stands as a barrier between oneself and Christ.

The first self must die. The second must be born, nurtured, nourished, strengthened, and allowed to thrive.

This is what Christ meant by “losing your life to find it.” This is what prophets throughout time have meant by a “broken heart and contrite spirit,” a phrase I once knew but now understand more deeply. Only the surrendered soul can be filled with this divine light and holy life.

You may remember the scene in my stories where the dragon-boy’s skin must be torn away. It was a frightful process. But every human being must undergo something like it. The false self must be unmade. Every sin is a scale that must come off. Every prideful thought is a claw that must be broken.

If it feels painful, it is because it is surgery. If it feels frightening, that is because you are being remade.

IV. Righteousness: The Lion’s Nature in Us

Permit me to speak plainly.

Righteousness is not moral bookkeeping. It is not a list of deeds we do. It is not a set of religious performances that leave the heart unchanged and unsanctified.

Righteousness is becoming like Christ in thought and character.

From where I have stood beyond the veil, I have witnessed that:

• Righteousness is integrity when you think no one sees you.
• Righteousness is courage when truth costs dearly.
• Righteousness is obedience when obedience hurts.
• Righteousness is charity when charity seems hurtful or inconvenient.
• Righteousness is telling the truth even when the world demands flattery.
• Righteousness is the lion’s roar against deception, cruelty, and cowardice.
• Righteousness is humility—a profound recognition of our dependence on the grace that transforms us inasmuch as we allow it to do so.

And here I speak with special urgency. Righteousness is impossible without grace. Not because grace excuses us, but because grace empowers us. It enables the creation of a new creature, even when the old one failed time and time again.

The Book of Mormon speaks of this in bold terms: men must become new creatures, born again, changed in their very dispositions. I find this not only accurate but essential.

God cannot admit us to heaven until heaven has entered into us and redefined us in every way.

Righteousness is the divine life taking root within the human heart, sprouting and growing into a glorious tree laden with the most precious fruit.

The call of the gospel is the call to righteousness. It is not an escape clause that saves only a select list of club members. The call of the gospel requires faith in the form of righteousness in essence and action. Those who answer this call by their faithfulness are saved. Those who do not are not.

V. Agency: The Power That Shapes Eternity

One of the clearest truths I have learned since departing this world is the sacredness of choice. God does not coerce. He does not force righteousness upon a reluctant soul. He will shape those who yield but will not drag those who resist.

You may remember me saying in The Great Divorce that at the end there are only two kinds of people: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, “Very well then, thy will be done.”

This remains true, but I would now add:

Every moment of this life is preparing you for that final declaration.

Mortality is a forge—fiery, relentless, purposeful. Every decision shapes the metal. Every act of obedience tempers the blade. Every refusal weakens it.

The Book of Mormon taught this trenchantly: that life is the time to prepare to meet God. I once believed this in part. Now I believe it with the fullest certainty.

VI. Christ as Lion, Lamb, and King

Now, if you will indulge me, I wish to revisit an image familiar to many of you—the lion. I do so not to revisit my own tales, but because I now see why the image came so forcefully into my imagination.

The Lion is no longer a metaphor to me.

I have seen Him.

Christ is not simply gentle; He is good.

Goodness can be terrifying. Goodness can be overwhelming. Goodness can undo a man down to his foundations so that he may be rebuilt.

He is a Lion because He is kingly, fierce against evil, and unstoppable in righteousness.

He is a Lamb because He is meek, willing to suffer, and patient with our frailties.

He is both because the universe requires both. We require majesty to govern us, sacrifice to redeem us, and love to heal and sustain us.

Mortality is the arena where we must learn to become reconciled with God by learning His values, His teachings, and His ways.

VII. The Cost of Becoming Christlike

Do not imagine that becoming Christlike is a tidy or comfortable process. It is the most demanding project ever undertaken by a human soul.

Christ will ask more of you than you think you can bear—and then strengthen you to bear it.

He will call you to standards the world will call impossible—and then make them possible.

He will show you the truth about yourself—truth that may sting, and burn, and humble—and then fill you with a joy that far outweighs the sorrow.

If there is one message I am permitted to bring back from the realms beyond, it is this:

There is no other way.
There is no easier gospel.
There is no cheaper heaven.
There is only Christ, and Christ alone saves—but only those who choose to follow His way.

VIII. The Unveiled Soul

There will come a day—sooner than you expect—when every mask falls away. You will stand in the presence of One who knows you perfectly. Nothing hidden. Nothing shaded. Nothing excused.

That day will not be terrible for those who love truth, for they will discover that the Christ-like nature they cultivated has prepared them for an even greater weight of glory.

But those who have clung to deceit, pride, vanity, and self-worship will find His presence unbearable. Not because God rejects them, but because they never became the sort of creatures who could endure His penetrating light.

Heaven is not a prize given to the obedient; it is a condition made possible by obedience.

Hell is not a punishment inflicted; it is a condition chosen by rebellion, illuminated and magnified in the full light of day.

This I now know with absolute certainty.

IX. The Clarion Call

My friends, time grows short; not for this speech, but for the world.

The age you inhabit is an age of deceiving men and beguiling lies. It is an age defined by religious consumers who want comfort, not transformation; spirituality without sacrifice; salvation without sanctity.

This cannot stand. It will not withstand the coming storms.

Christ is calling for a different breed of believer—men and women of truth, of courage, and holiness. Not lions in name only, but lions in nature.

Christ needs disciples who:

• love truth more than reputation,
• defend goodness when it is mocked,
• call wickedness by its name,
• practice honesty even when it costs,
• repent quickly and fully,
• forgive generously,
• endure suffering without complaint,
• and follow Christ into the fire every time He asks them to.

The world needs such disciples. Heaven requires them. Christ will make them—if they will submit to His refining.

X. Final Testimony from One Who Has Seen

I end with a simple witness:

Christ lives.
Christ rules.
Christ is coming again.

And when He comes, every knee will bow—not because He demands it, but because His reality will expose and overwhelm all illusions.

He is more terrible than armies,
more beautiful than sunrise,
more ancient than time,
more new than creation,
more intimate than breath.

He is the Lion.
He is the Lamb.
He is the King.
And He is calling you home.

Become the kind of soul who will rejoice to meet Him.

Thank you.

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