Mere Christianity
I want to title this 1.0, as in the beginning of a series, but with school rolling...I hate to do that and abandon it. I'll write what I can here and hopefully more will come later.
My brother has been telling me to read MC for a while now, saying, 'dude, it's where you're at.'
Okay, cool.
I loved Lewis as a young reader, Narnia, the Space Trilogy (though I didn't manage Hideous Strength until I was an adult) Till We Have Faces (a novel I've taught now twice in college myth courses); think I read Screwtape. And as an adult, I was impressed with Surprised by Joy and have long liked, since college, The Pilgrim's Regress. But I don't think I ever read MC, though some of the ideas I've heard other places in Lewis. And by now, I was looking forward to EFM, to Von Rad's commentary on Genesis, waiting for time to read Wright and Plantinga.
Looking, I confess, for greater faith.
Not that I don't have faith, personal and sacramental; I am sure I've thrown my lot in with Jesus of Nazareth; if he really was a deluded apocalyptic prophet as Schweitzer argues, what I would have to call a narcissistic failure...well, then my life will end without answer. But while studying the gospels, or a couple of them, over a long period a few years back (and by coercion only, I shamefully admit) I found the Voice. A personality which over time overwhelmed me. Reading John where Jesus states that the Father witnesses on his behalf I felt that witness inside me, I asked God to 'show me Jesus.' I believe I became a grown-up Christian. This was March 2000.
At first things were great. Then my doubts began to chew at the bottom of my brainpan and continued chewing. I saw religious people all over the world with what appeared to be genuine faith, Mormons, Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims. I began to wonder what made my faith special? Why was I tuned into the most enormous of all cosmic truths and they, somehow, were not? As I looked deeper into modern skepticism I found what sounded like reasonable discussions, even solutions. Nothing that caused me to toss my faith out the window, but enough that I have been sitting on the mental fence, off and on, for quite a while. 'Suiting up and showing up' for church and church service (which, without doubt, is good for me) but still leaving The Question open in my mind. I believed this was the only way many modern people can experience religion; I am a skeptic like so many others and I think I always will be. Bigfoot isn't real, ditto yeti, the bermuda triangle, or elvis in tucson. What the heck does a Christian living in our century make of the OT law, the first 11 chapters of genesis, evolution, the fall, and so on?
I believe EFM will help me by exposing me to other skeptics who have chosen both faith and reason, who read the bible as believers but through the light of modern critical interpretation and not the kind which says 'this is God's Word it contains every answer and no part of it is incorrect...look, it says so right here!'
Twenty four hour days. Proof texts. Levitical Law. St. Paul's human moments. (Though people I respect, smarter and better read than me, Romy for example, believe the bible is fully God's word...I've read enough to have my own struggles).
So, back to Lewis (whose essay "On Scripture" in Reflections on the Psalms was very helpful to me when I converted). My opinion of him has dropped a bit over the years. I thought he'd be great to drink beer with, had a great Christian imagination, but was no theist philosopher. I mean, come on, too many people like him.
But yesterday I had a couple free hours between work and evening service. Instead of going to the gym (I'm finally lifting again and had lifted the day before, ouch) I went to the church library. Really, this is just a wall of books in the same room we have vestry meetings. I had seen MC up there the week before. In the beautiful quiet of that empty and air-conditioned spot I pulled up a bean bag took off my work shoes emptied my pockets and read on the floor.
And kept reading.
Truthfully, if my dog wolfie turned to me right now and spoke, saying, 'Troy, Troy, of course God is real,' that is about as close as I can come to my experience with that book. It was like an amorphous blob I had been trying to control in my hands suddenly stiffened, turned, and developed a speaking face. And it spoke very clear.
One thing that struck me was Lewis' confidence. So many Christians in the last two centuries believe like me: half-swim, half-drown. But Lewis moves through his argument without hesitation, and the argument itself is hair-raising. It is possible to look at the universe and argue that its complexity requires no intelligent design, it's done all the time by atheists and agnostics. It's possible to argue against the reality or the relevance of the universal human conscience, but Lewis lays it out so quick and so clean, responding so rapidly to the common objections, that I was staggered. Hypnotized. Afraid.
Now that I've had time to step back from those first few chapters I want to examine his first premises, show the book, actually to Dr. B in anthro. But I've been asking students the same questions for a decade, was asking them today: from Plato, is inner beauty universal, are mercy and generosity and kindness and compassion and wisdom valued across human culture and experience? It seems that they are. That while individuals or cultures drift up and down on what I've called the ontological line for years (probably incorrectly, but imagine a number line, a continuum, which measures goodness, with Hitler low on the line and Ghandi higher up) something Lewis himself describes...if we argue one culture has better standards of behavior than another we imply the existence of an ultimate ethic against which one can measure behavior which would lie at the very top of the line...Lewis' point, that all humans know we should treat those we love well and that we all fall short of that impulse regularly: that is hard to refute. I know evolutionists have an answer, and I want to see it (though they certainly did not observe the conscience develop; perhaps their answer is best described as an informed guess) but in all my years I've never seen such a succinct defense of Christianity. Lewis absolutely hits the core, the very essence of the faith, and he does so incredible precision and clarity.
The book continues into other areas and I have yet to get there; plus, as I said, I want to read those opening chapters again. But I know that an increase in my faith would change my life activity, make me much more useful in the Kingdom. And for that I pray.
Interestingly enough, though S and I have been doing great lately, the last two days have been sucky. Just stupid stuff, but tension and distance and for me, fear. Not obsession, just fear. Where did this come from? Could it be that spiritual warfare is a reality? It seemed almost too obvious. Last night, laying in bed with her asleep and myself hurting, I considered this and prayed to God to help us, to help me, help us, help me...my mind drifted off to another few things and then I felt sleepy, as though I'd taken a drug but I hadn't. And I slept better last night than I have in more than two weeks since school started. I haven't talked to S today yet and I don't know when we'll finally get our baggage out of the way and open up and share the genuine love we have for each other, but even myself, skeptic that I am (and really, the mouse thing a few weeks ago had other explanations) this seemed like a blatant gesture on Satan's part. I have no proof, and I understand the nature of superstition, but this all feels very strange.
Or as Lewis would say, odd.
What I pray for regarding my doubt is twofold: one, a clear enough faith to present it without waver, and two, enough years left in my life to actually do so. I'm 40. More decades would be nice, especially if most of them found me working in the Kingdom instead of merely squirming.
I have to go. I didn't even have time for this but I made it. More on the book when I can. EFM begins in a month and I hope to work through those ideas up here also, moving, by God's grace, closer and closer to the invisible Father of all the visible.
t
My brother has been telling me to read MC for a while now, saying, 'dude, it's where you're at.'
Okay, cool.
I loved Lewis as a young reader, Narnia, the Space Trilogy (though I didn't manage Hideous Strength until I was an adult) Till We Have Faces (a novel I've taught now twice in college myth courses); think I read Screwtape. And as an adult, I was impressed with Surprised by Joy and have long liked, since college, The Pilgrim's Regress. But I don't think I ever read MC, though some of the ideas I've heard other places in Lewis. And by now, I was looking forward to EFM, to Von Rad's commentary on Genesis, waiting for time to read Wright and Plantinga.
Looking, I confess, for greater faith.
Not that I don't have faith, personal and sacramental; I am sure I've thrown my lot in with Jesus of Nazareth; if he really was a deluded apocalyptic prophet as Schweitzer argues, what I would have to call a narcissistic failure...well, then my life will end without answer. But while studying the gospels, or a couple of them, over a long period a few years back (and by coercion only, I shamefully admit) I found the Voice. A personality which over time overwhelmed me. Reading John where Jesus states that the Father witnesses on his behalf I felt that witness inside me, I asked God to 'show me Jesus.' I believe I became a grown-up Christian. This was March 2000.
At first things were great. Then my doubts began to chew at the bottom of my brainpan and continued chewing. I saw religious people all over the world with what appeared to be genuine faith, Mormons, Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims. I began to wonder what made my faith special? Why was I tuned into the most enormous of all cosmic truths and they, somehow, were not? As I looked deeper into modern skepticism I found what sounded like reasonable discussions, even solutions. Nothing that caused me to toss my faith out the window, but enough that I have been sitting on the mental fence, off and on, for quite a while. 'Suiting up and showing up' for church and church service (which, without doubt, is good for me) but still leaving The Question open in my mind. I believed this was the only way many modern people can experience religion; I am a skeptic like so many others and I think I always will be. Bigfoot isn't real, ditto yeti, the bermuda triangle, or elvis in tucson. What the heck does a Christian living in our century make of the OT law, the first 11 chapters of genesis, evolution, the fall, and so on?
I believe EFM will help me by exposing me to other skeptics who have chosen both faith and reason, who read the bible as believers but through the light of modern critical interpretation and not the kind which says 'this is God's Word it contains every answer and no part of it is incorrect...look, it says so right here!'
Twenty four hour days. Proof texts. Levitical Law. St. Paul's human moments. (Though people I respect, smarter and better read than me, Romy for example, believe the bible is fully God's word...I've read enough to have my own struggles).
So, back to Lewis (whose essay "On Scripture" in Reflections on the Psalms was very helpful to me when I converted). My opinion of him has dropped a bit over the years. I thought he'd be great to drink beer with, had a great Christian imagination, but was no theist philosopher. I mean, come on, too many people like him.
But yesterday I had a couple free hours between work and evening service. Instead of going to the gym (I'm finally lifting again and had lifted the day before, ouch) I went to the church library. Really, this is just a wall of books in the same room we have vestry meetings. I had seen MC up there the week before. In the beautiful quiet of that empty and air-conditioned spot I pulled up a bean bag took off my work shoes emptied my pockets and read on the floor.
And kept reading.
Truthfully, if my dog wolfie turned to me right now and spoke, saying, 'Troy, Troy, of course God is real,' that is about as close as I can come to my experience with that book. It was like an amorphous blob I had been trying to control in my hands suddenly stiffened, turned, and developed a speaking face. And it spoke very clear.
One thing that struck me was Lewis' confidence. So many Christians in the last two centuries believe like me: half-swim, half-drown. But Lewis moves through his argument without hesitation, and the argument itself is hair-raising. It is possible to look at the universe and argue that its complexity requires no intelligent design, it's done all the time by atheists and agnostics. It's possible to argue against the reality or the relevance of the universal human conscience, but Lewis lays it out so quick and so clean, responding so rapidly to the common objections, that I was staggered. Hypnotized. Afraid.
Now that I've had time to step back from those first few chapters I want to examine his first premises, show the book, actually to Dr. B in anthro. But I've been asking students the same questions for a decade, was asking them today: from Plato, is inner beauty universal, are mercy and generosity and kindness and compassion and wisdom valued across human culture and experience? It seems that they are. That while individuals or cultures drift up and down on what I've called the ontological line for years (probably incorrectly, but imagine a number line, a continuum, which measures goodness, with Hitler low on the line and Ghandi higher up) something Lewis himself describes...if we argue one culture has better standards of behavior than another we imply the existence of an ultimate ethic against which one can measure behavior which would lie at the very top of the line...Lewis' point, that all humans know we should treat those we love well and that we all fall short of that impulse regularly: that is hard to refute. I know evolutionists have an answer, and I want to see it (though they certainly did not observe the conscience develop; perhaps their answer is best described as an informed guess) but in all my years I've never seen such a succinct defense of Christianity. Lewis absolutely hits the core, the very essence of the faith, and he does so incredible precision and clarity.
The book continues into other areas and I have yet to get there; plus, as I said, I want to read those opening chapters again. But I know that an increase in my faith would change my life activity, make me much more useful in the Kingdom. And for that I pray.
Interestingly enough, though S and I have been doing great lately, the last two days have been sucky. Just stupid stuff, but tension and distance and for me, fear. Not obsession, just fear. Where did this come from? Could it be that spiritual warfare is a reality? It seemed almost too obvious. Last night, laying in bed with her asleep and myself hurting, I considered this and prayed to God to help us, to help me, help us, help me...my mind drifted off to another few things and then I felt sleepy, as though I'd taken a drug but I hadn't. And I slept better last night than I have in more than two weeks since school started. I haven't talked to S today yet and I don't know when we'll finally get our baggage out of the way and open up and share the genuine love we have for each other, but even myself, skeptic that I am (and really, the mouse thing a few weeks ago had other explanations) this seemed like a blatant gesture on Satan's part. I have no proof, and I understand the nature of superstition, but this all feels very strange.
Or as Lewis would say, odd.
What I pray for regarding my doubt is twofold: one, a clear enough faith to present it without waver, and two, enough years left in my life to actually do so. I'm 40. More decades would be nice, especially if most of them found me working in the Kingdom instead of merely squirming.
I have to go. I didn't even have time for this but I made it. More on the book when I can. EFM begins in a month and I hope to work through those ideas up here also, moving, by God's grace, closer and closer to the invisible Father of all the visible.
t
Comments
Eric
See you at Thanksgiving Bro.
Troy