NOT SURPRISED BY THE JOY OF C.S. LEWIS
Most people get their introduction to Clive Staples Lewis through his timeless classic "Mere Christianity," one of the great apologies for Christianity and probably his most widely read book. (And of course, it needs to be pointed out that in the original Greek, "apologia" meant a "defense of,"; it did not have the connotation we give it today in English).
Lewis, of course, was a very prolific writer and scholar (and former atheist), having taught in his lifetime at both Cambridge and Oxford. He ended up his career as a professor of Renaissance Literature at Cambridge. Importantly, many of his experiences (and written reflections) were written with the horrors of WWII as a backdrop. He left us in 1963.
It is rare that a scholar of such depth has such a comprehensive reach with his work, in that his writings remain very popular today for both scholars, students, children (with all of his children's literature, such as the "Chronicles of Narnia"), and are accessible to the common reader as well. Of course, the recent "Chronicles of Narnia" movies proved quite popular, and were very well done (especially the first).
All too often in America today, the image of evangelical Christianity is one of shallowness (think: some TV Evangelists, truculent fundamentalists, et.al.) and narrowness. This is unfortunate, as there are many great Christian philosophers, scientists, and writers who state the case for Christianity in compelling and convincing ways. Their works are very rewarding reads.
C. S. Lewis is one of these, and I have been challenged and blessed in recent studies of several of his key works. The world has an image of believing Christians that is all wrong: that we must be ignoramuses, we are anti-science and anti-rationalist, we believe in a woodenly literal version of the Genesis creation stories, etc. This could not be further from the truth, but the truth is hidden from those who do not want to see it. Some of the most intelligent people I've ever known (or read) are Christians, and their work spans the gamut of human endeavor and achievement. Lewis pulled of the rarest of rare feats in his works, since he could appeal to children, adults, and professors; in short: everyone, who had "ears to hear." His prose was quite lucid and appealing, and he had the ability to encapsulate some of the most difficult theological concepts and intellectual struggles in easy-to-understand language.
If you've ever read John Bunyan's "The Pilgrim's Progress" (highly recommended; a phenomenal work), you'll enjoy Lewis' "The Pilgrim's Regress." He uses the whole idea of Christians being on a life journey to great effect, and has re-set the "progressive journey" idea into a more contemporary, yet mythological setting, with the same clever use of allegory as Bunyan.
Of course, many have read "The Screwtape Letters." This is a story about old "uncle Screwtape" (Satan) writing letters to his nephew "Wormwood" on how to properly tempt and lead a newly-professed Christian to his spiritual demise via the clever cunning and devices that only Screwtape had honed and perfected over millennia. (He fails in the end; the parishioner succeeds.) A superb, short read; apropos to our time and personal journeys.
Other fine works include: "Miracles," "The Abolition of Man" (reminded me a great deal of William F. Buckley's classic lament "God and Man at Yale"), and, the book from which I got my title, "Surprised by Joy," among so many other great works. Moreover, several years ago, a movie came out depicting Lewis' life starring Anthony Hopkins and Debra Winger (pretty well done).
"The Problem of Pain" (1940) really touched some nerves with me. Lewis deals with the problem comprehensively, and it is such timely and fresh reading. It is a universal problem endemic to the "human condition." What are its origins? Why do we suffer so, if there is a loving God? Why have hope in the face of enormous personal and corporate suffering? Is there an antidote? Might a great deal of the antidote have spiritual dimensions?
Of course, I'm not here talking about pedestrian forms of pain such as headaches, routine "hurts" and the like, common to us all and part of our experience of living in this world. Every animal experiences pain; certainly all mammals in a very real sense. Much of what Lewis addresses in this work comes under the rubric of "existential angst." Much pain - in the human psyche for sure - comes about by how we live, cope, and deal with our environment; our trials and tribulations, etc. We are both rational and spiritual beings; hence, we will always be surrounded by suffering in its many forms.
For Lewis, the first step in the healing of the "pain" process was to make a personal decision to follow Jesus Christ. Much of our "pain," our angst, our suffering, comes about by what we individually choose to do. Every act has some sort of consequence; Paul speaks of the "wages of sin" in Romans, for instance. It is rooted deterministically in cause and effect. You do something, you experience something, for instance. Lewis has a great phrase for what "pain" can actually do for us positively, if we have ears to hear: "Pain plants the flag of truth within a rebel fortress."
In other words, we do have free will as humans, and much of Lewis' theology is underscored by his belief in a very real hell for the finally unrepentant, and our very real free will (a gift from our Creator) to choose many of the paths put before us by life (and hence either enjoy or suffer the consequences). This is a very tough idea for many contemporary folks to swallow, especially considering much of the prevailing thought in America. Lewis (as are all Christian scholars) was not concerned with "popular" or "folk theology," but a theology strongly and unapologetic - ally rooted in Biblical truth. Lewis believed very literally in the "unseen world," as opposed to the partially revealed world apparent to our senses. This world is not - was not - "all that there is" (the materialist stance in philosophy, for example). This world is a created world; a sort of testing ground for eternity, and I agree. I believe the choices we make today have ramifications for our eternal destiny. Life is not a trivial thing by any means.
Says Lewis: "The doors of hell are locked from the inside" - the finally "damned are rebels to the end. They enjoy forever the horrible freedom they have demanded and are therefore self-enslaved; just as the blessed, forever submitting to obedience, become through all eternity more and more free." Hard medicine for contemporaries to swallow, but Lewis believes (as do I) that much of what we perceive as "freedom" in our actions is an illusion; we think we are "free" to do this or do that without consequence, but therein lies the illusion. Without instruction, without the truth revealed in the Bible, without Torah (literally "law," "instruction"), without a daily "Halakh" (Hebrew for "walk") with God; without the light, life, love, and salvific work of Jesus Christ, we are blind and doomed - ultimate rebels headed for even more heaps of "pain" than we could imagine.
"Pain" is a mechanism of communication therefore: to be authentic as human beings created in the image of God, we therefore have the ability ultimately to choose - either to ignore or listen to pain, suffering, and yes, even shame. For Lewis, shame could even be "valued - not as an emotion - but because of the insight to which it leads." Wow - if there was ever a difficult concept for moderns to wrap their minds around it would be this one. We live in a culture that has lost any sense of shame; we view it as overwhelmingly negative and something none of us should ever have to feel. But Lewis gives a radical interpretation of it (to modern ears): shame is a "mechanism" - it is a psychological "alert" that something is indeed wrong; there is a reason why we feel this way, and it is a harbinger that we must change our behavior and avoid these events/things/words/whatever that bring shame into our mind.
Christ can heal us of our shame; He is the antidote (not pop psychology!). But we must have the will to repent - to turn away from the shaming event and turn to Christ. This can only be done with the free will that God instilled in us.
Ultimately, Lewis was an optimist. He did not accept the Calvinist doctrine of "Total (human) Depravity." I disbelieve that doctrine partly on the logical ground that if our depravity were total we should not know ourselves to be depraved, and partly because experience shows us much goodness in human nature. But he did believe that life was a journey; a constant struggle between good and evil forces which are very active in our lives. I venture to say that common experience shows all of us that this is indeed true, if we're being honest with ourselves.
The Reign of God will ultimately prevail, and it is slowly - if sometimes imperceptibly - advancing within the human continuum
Thank you C. S. Lewis for your great (and joyful) books, your vision, and your courage to be an intellectual, yet defend the truth and "particularity" of the Christian Gospel so brilliantly.
TTC
Lewis, of course, was a very prolific writer and scholar (and former atheist), having taught in his lifetime at both Cambridge and Oxford. He ended up his career as a professor of Renaissance Literature at Cambridge. Importantly, many of his experiences (and written reflections) were written with the horrors of WWII as a backdrop. He left us in 1963.
It is rare that a scholar of such depth has such a comprehensive reach with his work, in that his writings remain very popular today for both scholars, students, children (with all of his children's literature, such as the "Chronicles of Narnia"), and are accessible to the common reader as well. Of course, the recent "Chronicles of Narnia" movies proved quite popular, and were very well done (especially the first).
All too often in America today, the image of evangelical Christianity is one of shallowness (think: some TV Evangelists, truculent fundamentalists, et.al.) and narrowness. This is unfortunate, as there are many great Christian philosophers, scientists, and writers who state the case for Christianity in compelling and convincing ways. Their works are very rewarding reads.
C. S. Lewis is one of these, and I have been challenged and blessed in recent studies of several of his key works. The world has an image of believing Christians that is all wrong: that we must be ignoramuses, we are anti-science and anti-rationalist, we believe in a woodenly literal version of the Genesis creation stories, etc. This could not be further from the truth, but the truth is hidden from those who do not want to see it. Some of the most intelligent people I've ever known (or read) are Christians, and their work spans the gamut of human endeavor and achievement. Lewis pulled of the rarest of rare feats in his works, since he could appeal to children, adults, and professors; in short: everyone, who had "ears to hear." His prose was quite lucid and appealing, and he had the ability to encapsulate some of the most difficult theological concepts and intellectual struggles in easy-to-understand language.
If you've ever read John Bunyan's "The Pilgrim's Progress" (highly recommended; a phenomenal work), you'll enjoy Lewis' "The Pilgrim's Regress." He uses the whole idea of Christians being on a life journey to great effect, and has re-set the "progressive journey" idea into a more contemporary, yet mythological setting, with the same clever use of allegory as Bunyan.
Of course, many have read "The Screwtape Letters." This is a story about old "uncle Screwtape" (Satan) writing letters to his nephew "Wormwood" on how to properly tempt and lead a newly-professed Christian to his spiritual demise via the clever cunning and devices that only Screwtape had honed and perfected over millennia. (He fails in the end; the parishioner succeeds.) A superb, short read; apropos to our time and personal journeys.
Other fine works include: "Miracles," "The Abolition of Man" (reminded me a great deal of William F. Buckley's classic lament "God and Man at Yale"), and, the book from which I got my title, "Surprised by Joy," among so many other great works. Moreover, several years ago, a movie came out depicting Lewis' life starring Anthony Hopkins and Debra Winger (pretty well done).
"The Problem of Pain" (1940) really touched some nerves with me. Lewis deals with the problem comprehensively, and it is such timely and fresh reading. It is a universal problem endemic to the "human condition." What are its origins? Why do we suffer so, if there is a loving God? Why have hope in the face of enormous personal and corporate suffering? Is there an antidote? Might a great deal of the antidote have spiritual dimensions?
Of course, I'm not here talking about pedestrian forms of pain such as headaches, routine "hurts" and the like, common to us all and part of our experience of living in this world. Every animal experiences pain; certainly all mammals in a very real sense. Much of what Lewis addresses in this work comes under the rubric of "existential angst." Much pain - in the human psyche for sure - comes about by how we live, cope, and deal with our environment; our trials and tribulations, etc. We are both rational and spiritual beings; hence, we will always be surrounded by suffering in its many forms.
For Lewis, the first step in the healing of the "pain" process was to make a personal decision to follow Jesus Christ. Much of our "pain," our angst, our suffering, comes about by what we individually choose to do. Every act has some sort of consequence; Paul speaks of the "wages of sin" in Romans, for instance. It is rooted deterministically in cause and effect. You do something, you experience something, for instance. Lewis has a great phrase for what "pain" can actually do for us positively, if we have ears to hear: "Pain plants the flag of truth within a rebel fortress."
In other words, we do have free will as humans, and much of Lewis' theology is underscored by his belief in a very real hell for the finally unrepentant, and our very real free will (a gift from our Creator) to choose many of the paths put before us by life (and hence either enjoy or suffer the consequences). This is a very tough idea for many contemporary folks to swallow, especially considering much of the prevailing thought in America. Lewis (as are all Christian scholars) was not concerned with "popular" or "folk theology," but a theology strongly and unapologetic - ally rooted in Biblical truth. Lewis believed very literally in the "unseen world," as opposed to the partially revealed world apparent to our senses. This world is not - was not - "all that there is" (the materialist stance in philosophy, for example). This world is a created world; a sort of testing ground for eternity, and I agree. I believe the choices we make today have ramifications for our eternal destiny. Life is not a trivial thing by any means.
Says Lewis: "The doors of hell are locked from the inside" - the finally "damned are rebels to the end. They enjoy forever the horrible freedom they have demanded and are therefore self-enslaved; just as the blessed, forever submitting to obedience, become through all eternity more and more free." Hard medicine for contemporaries to swallow, but Lewis believes (as do I) that much of what we perceive as "freedom" in our actions is an illusion; we think we are "free" to do this or do that without consequence, but therein lies the illusion. Without instruction, without the truth revealed in the Bible, without Torah (literally "law," "instruction"), without a daily "Halakh" (Hebrew for "walk") with God; without the light, life, love, and salvific work of Jesus Christ, we are blind and doomed - ultimate rebels headed for even more heaps of "pain" than we could imagine.
"Pain" is a mechanism of communication therefore: to be authentic as human beings created in the image of God, we therefore have the ability ultimately to choose - either to ignore or listen to pain, suffering, and yes, even shame. For Lewis, shame could even be "valued - not as an emotion - but because of the insight to which it leads." Wow - if there was ever a difficult concept for moderns to wrap their minds around it would be this one. We live in a culture that has lost any sense of shame; we view it as overwhelmingly negative and something none of us should ever have to feel. But Lewis gives a radical interpretation of it (to modern ears): shame is a "mechanism" - it is a psychological "alert" that something is indeed wrong; there is a reason why we feel this way, and it is a harbinger that we must change our behavior and avoid these events/things/words/whatever that bring shame into our mind.
Christ can heal us of our shame; He is the antidote (not pop psychology!). But we must have the will to repent - to turn away from the shaming event and turn to Christ. This can only be done with the free will that God instilled in us.
Ultimately, Lewis was an optimist. He did not accept the Calvinist doctrine of "Total (human) Depravity." I disbelieve that doctrine partly on the logical ground that if our depravity were total we should not know ourselves to be depraved, and partly because experience shows us much goodness in human nature. But he did believe that life was a journey; a constant struggle between good and evil forces which are very active in our lives. I venture to say that common experience shows all of us that this is indeed true, if we're being honest with ourselves.
The Reign of God will ultimately prevail, and it is slowly - if sometimes imperceptibly - advancing within the human continuum
Thank you C. S. Lewis for your great (and joyful) books, your vision, and your courage to be an intellectual, yet defend the truth and "particularity" of the Christian Gospel so brilliantly.
TTC
posted by thoughtful conservative at 3:37 PM
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