The Baptized Imagination: How Fiction Builds Faith

“What is possible in art becomes thinkable in life.”

This quote from British musician Brian Eno resonated with me. I think he’s right. What is possible in the imaginary realm becomes manifest in story, the most compelling medium in human expression. And I think C. S. Lewis would agree.

In a now famous account of his journey to Christ, Lewis described how a work of the imagination became manifest in his life, thus playing a pivotal role in his conversion.

One afternoon before boarding a train, he purchased a paperback copy of George MacDonald’s Phantastes, a novel about a young man navigating a mystical realm in which he encounters fantastical creatures, overcomes challenges, doubts and fears, and learns the power of selfless love, which is the essence of the heart of Jesus.

Lewis wrote, “Nothing was at that time further from my thoughts than Christianity . . . I was only aware that if this new world was strange, it was also homely and humble . . . that the whole book had about it a sort of cool, morning innocence, and also, quite unmistakably, a certain quality of Death, good Death.

What it actually did to me was to convert, even to baptize my imagination.”

A sweet sentiment, to be sure. But what exactly did Lewis mean when he said his imagination was baptized?

The Transformative Power of Imagination

Consider the human imagination. By it, we envision and create all manner of societal and cultural advances (and regresses). Via the imagination, we suspend disbelief and enter alternate realities filled with adventure, brilliance, compassion, and hope.

Like every human attribute, we have the option to use our imaginations for good or ill. Thus, the need for our imaginations to be baptized, as Lewis would say—the need to harness our speculative skill sets as a means to advance the good, the true, and the beautiful, all to facilitate creative pathways for the gospel to be seen and understood.

Nowhere is this more vital than in the minds and hearts of our children. Naturally inclined to use their imaginations, children engage in make-believe for hours on end. They see enchantment everywhere and they often daydream as if their imaginings were utterly real.

The allure of a captivating story is virtually irresistible. In a world filled with endless options and dozens of outlets competing for attention, every parent prays they can help their child’s imagination remain awakened to the goodness and beauty of God’s creation and the power of nobility and truth.

In a world filled with potential danger and darkness, how does a parent (or child) find their way?

Let’s turn to Lewis once more. When writing of his own literary journey, he was keenly aware of the potential for the destructive use of a corrupted imagination. While reading Romanticist fiction, he noted that he might “at any moment, flounder into its darker and more evil forms, slithering down the steep descent that leads from the love of strangeness to that of eccentricity and thence to that of perversity.”[1]

A daunting proposition, indeed. Should we simply forbid the imagination to keep our children safe? Should we cloister them away, hidden from the world? Should we forbid our children from exploring the realities of good and evil as portrayed in great stories? I don’t think so, though I’ve been tempted to prohibit their inclinations to imagine the dangerous and unknown.  

As the parent of three young adult children (ages 21, 20, 17), I am all too familiar with the temptation to be overly protective. On occasion, my children asked to read stories that, on the surface, seemed frightening or cruel. Of course, age-appropriate content is paramount. But there were times that I dismissed their curiosity simply because it was convenient. In these moments, I failed to appreciate the greatest opportunity a parent can have—the willingness of their child to express themselves, to ask questions and thoughtfully cultivate, with God’s help, their baptized imagination.

I learned, hopefully not too late, that joining my children in the tension was the most meaningful method to lead them to a mature Christian faith. Rather than rebuff their imaginings, I slowly learned to engage and explore alongside them. In so doing, I experienced a transformation in my own heart and faith.

Children’s imaginations are powerful and important—it is how they begin to make sense of the world around them and to connect themes of good and evil, redemption and sacrifice. Connecting their hearts and minds to truth-infused, creative narrative enlarges their understanding of God’s world and God’s ways.

As theology professor Kerry Dearborn, author of The Baptized Imagination, explains:

“Rather than leading us to escape from reality, stories from the baptized imagination address our deep hunger for transcendence, significance, and community. Washing away blinding scales, they give us a new vision of the enduring goodness at the heart of all things and our fundamental connection with all creation.”

Harnessing the Redemptive Purpose of Story

Like George MacDonald, I came to realize the truth that “the imagination of man is made in the image of the imagination of God.” By exercising our imaginations in stories that reveal the good, the beautiful and the true, our imagination’s baptism begins and so increases our awareness of the extraordinary redemptive work of Jesus, of the power of God’s love to radically overcome the darkest forces of evil.

The timeless is always timely.

A baptized imagination, saturated in the eternal virtues, propels a person to the place where what they’ve imagined through art becomes thinkable in life. Through the story of Reepicheep’s bravery, we grow inspired to stand courageously in the face of danger. Because of the self-giving cruciform love of Aslan, we gain another framework for understanding the cross.

Now as ever, the rising generation needs a baptized imagination, grounded in truth and leading the world to a more hopeful and helpful reality. My prayer is the writers and artists of this generation will continue to provide stories that baptize the imagination of the next.


[1] Lewis, C.S., George MacDonald: An Anthology, preface xxxiii (Macmillan Publishing Company, 1947: NY)


Bryce and the Lost Pearl Cover

Bryce and the Lost pearl

Life is full of responsibilities for fifteen-year-old Bryce Holland. Between working at his uncle’s horse stables, playing his newly earned spot on the varsity basketball team, and leading a Bible study, the juggling act of his life is on the verge of a crash. The stress sends Bryce over the edge and he thunders away on his uncle’s Clydesdale without permission. When the horse gets away from him, the search to find the missing animal sends Bryce wandering deep through the woods and into a strange new land.

About the author

Derek Holser

Derek Holser, MEd, MTh, JD, is an author, educator, and attorney. He and his wife, Leah, and their three teenage children live in Bainbridge Island, Washington. His many works include Atlas Forman & The Necessary Dream and BOY 39. He is coauthor of the Lightgliders Origins series. He is dedicated to producing works of inspiration and education, which lead to personal and societal transformation.

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