Tag: C.S. Lewis

Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C. S. Lewis: A Portrait of a Reader/Thinker as a Young Man

On June 15, 2025

In (Auto)Biography, Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Further Up and Further In A Year with C.S.Lewis

Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life

DETAILS:
 Publisher: Harcourt Brace & Company
Publication Date: 1984
Format: Paperback
Length: 238 pg.
Read Date: May 10-25, 2025

The reader who finds these three episodes of no interest need read this book no further, for in a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else. For those who are still disposed to proceed I will only underline the quality common to the three experiences; it is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and from Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again. Apart from that, and considered only in its quality, it might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But then it is a kind we want. I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and pleasure often is.

What’s Surprised by Joy About?

This is a look at the early part of Lewis’ life—his childhood, education (in boarding schools primarily), his acceptance to Oxford—and taking time off to serve in WWI—then returning and his eventual conversion to Christianity.

As he puts it in the preface,

This book is written partly in answer to requests that I would tell how I passed from Atheism to Christianity and partly to correct one or two false notions that seem to have got about. How far the story matters to anyone but myself depends on the degree to which others have experienced what I call “joy.”…The book aims at telling the story of my conversion and is not a general autobiography.

He’s not striving to be exhaustive, but to tell us enough that we understand what he was going through and how his education/experiences helped shape his mind for converting.

Endless Books

I am a product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences, attics explored in solitude, distan; noises of gurgling cisterns and pipes, and the noise of wind under the tiles. Also, of endless books. My father bought all the books he read and never got rid of any of them. There were books in the study, books in the drawing room, books in the cloakroom, books (two deep) in the great bookcase on the landing, books in a bedroom, books piled as high as my shoulder in the cistern attic, books of all kinds reflecting every transient stage of my parents’ interest, books readable and unreadable, books suitable for a child and books most emphatically not. Nothing was forbidden me. In the seemingly endless rainy afternoons I took volume after volume from the shelves. I had always the same certainty of finding a book that was new to me as a man who walks into a field has of finding a new blade of grass.

Just about anyone who takes the time to read this post is going to resonate with that quotation. Possibly be envious of that kind of childhood.

That’s one thing that comes through in clarity through this book—he is the product of so many books. So much of his experiences are shaped by, illustrated by, and reflected in what he reads—particularly what he returns to.

Yes, there’s some creative work. Some dry education. A lot of emotional development (largely phrased in other terms). Even a little socialization outside of his father, brother, and instructors—but really not much outside of that until Oxford.

What’s there throughout it all? Books. Hard not to identify with a guy like that.

So, what did I think about Surprised by Joy?

I was at this time living, like so many Atheists or Antitheists, in a whirl of contradictions. I maintained that God did not exist. I was also very angry with God for not existing. I was equally angry with Him for creating a world.

Sure, it’s about his early years. But I think the emphasis was on the wrong bits. I know, it’s not my life, he knows what got him to the point he was trying to focus on better than I do. But if the book “aims at telling the story of my conversion,” I really don’t see it.

It happens so quickly, with little fanfare leading up to it—it reminded me of one of those books where you stop a sentence or two after something happens, “Wait, did X just die?” That’s an exaggeration in this case, but not by much.

More of his WWI experience, more about the wrestling with ideas in Oxford. More showing the kind of thinking he encourages others to do about their faith/lack thereof, would be a plus.

Is it a good look at Lewis’ early life? Yes. Does it contain some of his best turns of phrase? Yeah, I think so. Does it deliver on what he aimed to? I really don’t think so. I recommend it for someone who wants to know more about the man—just come in with the proper expectations.

3 Stars

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Miracles by C.S. Lewis: A Pleasant, If Not Particularly Helpful, Read

By HCNewton

On April 13, 2025

In C.S. Lewis, Further Up and Further In, Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Further Up and Further In A Year with C.S.Lewis

Miracles: A Preliminary Study

by C. S. Lewis

DETAILS:
Publisher: Collier Books
Publication Date: 1960
Format: Mass Market Paperback
Length: 168 pg.
Read Date: March 2-9, 2025

…the shock comes at the precise moment when the thrill of life is communicated to us along the clue we have been following. It is always shocking to meet life where we thought we were alone. “Look out!” we cry, “it’s alive.” And therefore this is the very point at which s many draw back—I would have done so myself if I could—and proceed no further with Christianity. An “impersonal God”—well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness, inside our own heads—better still. A formless life-force surging through us, a vast power which we can tap—best of all. But God Himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, king, husband—that is quite another matter. There comes a moment when the children who have been playing at burglars hush suddenly: was that a real footstep in the hall? There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion (“Man’s search for God”!) suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us?

So it is a sort of Rubicon. One goes across; or not. But if one does, there is no manner of security against miracles. One may be in for anything.

What’s Miracles About?

In this book, Lewis sets out to defend the idea of miracles. The possibility of them. He flat out says he won’t defend the historicity of Christian miracles—that’s not his field (of course, neither is theology, but that doesn’t stop him). He wants to lay the groundwork. If he can convince the reader that miracles are possible—even better they expect them and appreciate the relationship between them and Christianity—well then, he hopes the reader will—like Lewis himself did—examine the claims of Christianity on a more reasonable and ready basis.

The Direction of the Argument

First, Lewis starts with Supernaturalism vs. Naturalism (and it’s here that he might be at his best for the book)

Belief in miracles, far from depending on an ignorance of the laws of nature, is only possible in so far as those laws are known. We have already seen that if you begin by ruling out the supernatural you will perceive no miracles, We must now add that you will equally perceive no miracles until you believe that nature works according to regular laws. If you have not yet noticed that the sun always rises in the East you will see nothing miraculous about his rising one morning in the West.

His point is essentially that his readers will fall into two camps: those who will refuse to accept a miracle because they can’t happen or those who are willing to accept there are—or at least might be—supernatural possibilities in the world. If you are a committed reader in the former camp, there’s nothing that Lewis can do or say to make you change your mind. He will, at least, help you to see that—and lay out the possibilities of a supernatural explanation.

If you’re open to a supernatural explanation for things—like a miracle. Then Lewis has some things he’d like to talk to you about.

…it is mere confusion of thought to suppose that advancing science has made it harder for us to accept miracles, We always knew they were contrary to the natural course of events; we know still that if there is something beyond Nature, they are possible. Those are the bare bones of the question; time and progress and science and civilisation have not altered them in the least.

Then he moves into Christian miracles—or at least the miracles that Christians claim as part of their story—their Scriptures, their religion.

…you cannot [remove miracles] with Christianity. It is precisely the story of a great Miracle. A naturalistic Christianity leaves out all that is specifically Christian.

This is, he suggests, part of the path that he took to get to where he is.

If at any point along the line of argument, Lewis loses you, he will not ask you to accept his conclusion—or at least he has no basis to do so. Otherwise…

So, what did I think about Miracles?

You are probably quite right in thinking that you will never see a miracle done: you are probably equally right in thinking that there was a natural explanation of anything in your past life which seemed, at the first glance, to be “rum” or “odd.” God does not shake miracles into Nature at random as if from a pepper-caster. They come on great occasions: they are found at the great ganglions of history—not of political or social history, but of that spiritual history which cannot be fully known by men. If your own life does not happen to be near one of those great ganglions, how should you expect to see one? If we were heroic missionaries, apostles, or martyrs, it would be a different matter. But why you or I? Unless you live near a railway, you will not see trains go past your windows. How likely is it that you or I will be present when a peace-treaty is signed, when a great scientific discovery is made, when a dictator commits suicide? That we should see a miracle is even less likely. Nor, if we understand, shall we be anxious to do so. “Nothing almost sees miracles but misery.” Miracles and martyrdoms tend to bunch about the same areas of history—areas we have naturally no wish to frequent. Do not, I earnestly advise you, demand an ocular proof unless you are already perfectly certain that it is not forthcoming,

I enjoyed it—this was the second or third post-Narnia book I read by Lewis, and it’s one of them I’ve returned to the most. It’s also less and less effective to me the more times I read it. I just don’t like his line of argument. Nor do I appreciate some of what he says about the Scriptures. But, I do enjoy reading this.

There are two major aims for an apologetic work, as I’ve heard from a few apologetic professors/writers. The first is to present a defense for the faith to unbelievers—to convince them, to provide evidence for the faith to them, or at least to show that Christianity has a rational basis (things along those lines). The second aim is to buttress the confidence of the believer that they haven’t taken a blind leap of faith, that their convictions can stand against a hostile culture—or a disinterested one. I don’t see this working to well with the unbeliever (outside of maybe stressing that they’re committed to not accepting the possibility of miracles), rather the strength of his book falls into the latter category.

I appreciate what Lewis attempted to do here. I enjoy seeing him think through these things, and generally have a good time with his language. But it’s not the best thing he penned, and I’m not sure it’s all that useful.

Still, I like it. And anyone who’s going to name a chapter what he called Chapter 9? I want to spend a little time with.

3.5 Stars

Opening Lines: Miracles by C.S. Lewis

By HCNewton

On March 9, 2025

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Quotations

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art and we all do judge them that way). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I like to throw it up here. In these few paragraphs, you see exactly how he argues for the rest of the book.

from Miracles by C.S. Lewis:

In all my life I have met only one person who claims to have seen a ghost. And the interesting diing about the story is that that person disbelieved in the immortal soul before she saw the ghost and still disbelieves after seeing it. She says that what she saw must have been an illusion or a trick of the nerves. And obviously she may be right. Seeing is not believing.

For this reason, the question whether miracles occur can never be answered simply by experience. Every event which might claim to be a miracle is, in the last resort, something presented to our senses, something seen, heard, touched, smelled, or tasted. And our senses are not infallible. If anything extraordinary seems to have happened, we can always say that we have been the victims of an illusion. If we hold a philosophy which excludes the supernatural, this is what we always shall say. What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we bring to experience. It is therefore useless to appeal to experience before we have settled, as well as we can, the philosophical question..

If immediate experience cannot prove or disprove the miraculous, still less can history do so. Many people think one can decide whether a miracle occurred in the past by examining the evidence “according to the ordinary rules of historical enquiry.” But the ordinary rules cannot be worked until we have decided whether miracles are possible, and if so, how probable they are. For if they are impossible, then no amounnt of historical evidence will convince us. If they are possible but immensely improbable, then only mathematically demonstrative evidence will convince us: and since history never provides that degree of evidence for any event, history can never convince us that a miracle occurred. If, on the other hand, miracles are not intrinsically improbable, then the existing evidence will be sufficient to convince us that quite a number of miracles have occurred. The result of our historical enquiries thus depends on the philosophical views which we have been holding before we even began to look at the evidence. The philosophical question must therefore come first.

Here is an example of the sort of thing that happens if we omit the preliminary philosophical task, and rush on to the historical. In a popular commentary on the Bible you will find a discussion of the date at which the Fourth Gospel was written. The author says it must have been written after the execution of St. Peter, because, in the Fourth Gospel, Christ is represented as predicting the execution of St. Peter. “A book,” thinks the author, “cannot be written before events which it refers to.” Of course it cannot–unless real predictions ever occur. If they do, then this argument for the date is in ruins. And the author has not discussed at all whether real predictions are possible. He takes it for granted (perhaps unconsciously) that they are not. Perhaps he is right: but if he is, he has not discovered this principle by historical inquiry. He has brought his disbelief in predictions to his historical work, so to speak, ready made. Unless he had done so his historical conclusion about the date of the Fourth Gospel could not have been reached at all. His work is therefore quite useless to a person who wants to know whether predictions occur. The author gets to work only after he has already answered that question in the negative, and on grounds which he never communicates to us.

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The Abolition of Man by C. S. Lewis: What Can Happen When a Bad Review Copy Falls Into the Right Hands

By HCNewton

On February 23, 2025

In C.S. Lewis, Further Up and Further In, Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Further Up and Further In A Year with C.S.Lewis

The Abolition of Man: Reflections on Education with Special Reference to the Teaching of English in the Upper Forms of Schools

by C. S. Lewis

DETAILS: 
Publisher: Macmillan Publishing Company
Publication Date: September 1, 1978 
Format: Paperback
Length: 91 pg.
Read Date: February 2, 2025

This thing which I have called for convenience the Tao, and which others may call Natural Law or Traditional Morality or the First Principles of Practical Reason or the First Platitudes, is not one among a series of possible systems of value. It is the sole source of all value judgements. If it is rejected, all value is rejected. If any value ts retained, it is retained. The effort to refute and raise a new system of value in its place is self-contradictory. There never has been, and never will be, a radically new judgement of value in the history of the world.

What’s The Abolition of Man About?

This starts off with starts off as a review of a textbook or two, “Teaching of English in the Upper Forms of Schools” (to quote the subtitle). He has strong objections to the direction (and the foundation) these books are taking. From there he shifts into English schooling/thinking in general, and the deficiencies he sees in it and what he fears it means for the nation as a whole.

This centers on the idea that English teachers and schools are abandoning objective truth, which he mounts a defense of while writing about what he thinks will happen to a society that abandons it.

English Education

This begins, as I said (as does the subtitle) by reviewing a couple of textbooks used in English classes in the upper grades. Lewis had been sent review copies of them and took issue with a lot of what he said.

Lewis (in a move I could never duplicate) doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for these copies, so disguises the authors and titles before he starts explaining the problems. I don’t know if his original audience could see through his thin disguises—or if that just became clearer later. I suspect the former.

From what he tells us about these books, I think he was being too generous in his appraisal. This was some lousy curriculum.

I’d have appreciated more along these lines—but I get why Lewis moved on to other things.

The Tao

As Lewis begins to leave the realm of English education toward looking at education—and thinking—as a whole, he begins to utilize and develop his concept of a Tao:

It is the doctrine of objective value, the belief that certain attitudes are really true, and others really false, to the kind of thing the universe is and the kind of things we are.

As the quotation that opened this post indicates, this comes in many names—Natural Law, Natural Revelation, “Traditional Morality,” and so on.

With the Tao, as assumed and/or believed throughout the world for most of human history, we get absolutes. We get objective values, objective truth. As we begin to neglect or throw off the concept of objective truth for subjectivity—or, worse yet, “pure” Reason on its own. We lose the basis of all civilization, the basis of the value of life and individual rights, and so much more.

While I think he could’ve been more thorough in his explanation of the Tao and in explaining his arguments—t’s hard not to look at the world around us today, as it’s developed (devolved?) since the early days of WWII when these lectures were delivered, and not think that Lewis was on to something.

One Issue that Troubles Me

In order to avoid misunderstanding, I may add that though I myself am a Theist, and indeed a Christian, I am not here attempting any indirect argument for Theism. I am simply arguing that if we are to have Values at all we must accept the ultimate platitudes of Practical Reason as having absolute validity: that any attempt, having become skeptical about these, to reintroduce value lower down on some supposedly more ‘realistic’ basis, is doomed. Whether this position implies a supernatural origin for the Tao is a question I am not here concerned with.

As good as this sounds—as reasonable, as open-minded, as whatever you might want to call it—I’m unconvinced that this is a position that a Christian can self-consciously hold (without trying to call into doubt Lewis’ faith, I just think he’s inconsistent on this point).

I have trouble holding that a consistent position regarding Practical Reason—or anything else, whatever “Values” you might choose—having absolute validity separate from the inspired Christian Scriptures is possible. I realize those of us who hold that kind of thinking are a minority in the history of the Church, but I can’t argue myself out of it. Lewis’ attempt to build his argument—his Tao—in this way is the part of this book that keeps me from getting super-excited about it.

The Appendix

The appendix features quotations from a variety of ancient (and less ancient) texts from around the globe illustrating that several civilizations held to certain positions on a variety of issues. This isn’t to prove the existence of his Tao (or whatever you want to call it); it’s to demonstrate that it exists in the way that “everyone” holds to something very much like each other in certain aspects.

I don’t know if I can take it as confidently as Lewis did—but I get what he’s trying to show, and can appreciate it

So, what did I think about The Abolition of Man?

I remember the first time I read this—in 1992 or 1993—and a few times since that this argument, this look toward the objective and the importance of it, while not absolutizing Science or much of anything else, hit me hard, impressed me, and really formed a lot of my thinking.

I wasn’t as impressed this time (at least a decade since my last reading)—don’t get me wrong, it’s good, and I share a lot of the concerns and convictions with Lewis. But I wonder if he goes as deeply as we need today. It’s not enough to argue for a vague absolute—we need to understand the absolute, and where it comes from. There’s also the question of what do we do when we cannot agree on absolutes in a civic society, how do we approach this with wisdom and grace. I believe Lewis would have a lot to teach us—even if I objected to some of it. I understand that given the nature of this book (written version of lectures), his cultural context, and the enemies (literal and figurative) he had in mind, why we don’t get that book here.

Also, even the English curriculum he critiqued is better than a lot of what is given today (by all sorts of stripes of schools).

That said—this is a superior work to The Problem of Pain that takes advantage of Lewis’ strengths in a way the other couldn’t while not exposing many of his weaknesses as the previous book did. He’s got better works waiting for me, and I’m eager to get to them.

3.5 Stars

The Pilgrim’s Regress by C.S. Lewis: Everyone Has to Start Somewhere

By HCNewton

On February 6, 2025

In Book Blogger Hop, C.S. Lewis, Fantasy, Fiction, Further Up and Further In, General Fiction/Literature

Further Up and Further In A Year with C.S.Lewis

The Pilgrim’s Regress

by C. S. Lewis

DETAILS:
Publisher: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company
Publication Date: October 22, 2014
Format: Paperback
Length: 230 pg.
Read Date: January 1-3, 2025

A Bit of Personal History (feel free to skip)

Back in ’91 or ’92, I saw a copy of The Pilgrim’s Regress on a bookstore shelf. I was in a “read everything by Lewis you can get your hands on phase,” so I instantly picked it up. But the back of the book talked about it as the modern equivalent of Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress in a way that I figured I should read Bunyan before it.

It took me a little while to track down the Bunyan (the toilsome times before online bookshops), and by the time I worked my way through it, the bookstore didn’t have that copy any more and I was distracted by other things.

I’ve often thought about trying this book since then—but it wasn’t until I started thinking about this project that I finally combined ambition with general curiosity.

What’s The Pilgrim’s Regress About?

This modern-retelling of The Pilgrim’s Progressis an allegory about a man named John on his journey from childhood exposure to religion in Puritania to an Island of pleasure. Along the way, he has to deal with several physical, spiritiual and itellectual challenges to take him away from his journey (pretty much like Bunyan’s Christian).

This was the first thing that Lewis wrote after his conversion, and it’s considered to be an intellectual biography of that journey.

Basically, think Bunyan for the early 20th Century and you’ve got it.

A Couple of Things That Helped Me

Early on, John encounters a “brown girl” who distracts him from his interest in—or at least pursuing that interest. They begin a sexual relationship, which goes awry and causes some serious problems for John (actually, that entire relationship from her introduction on is a serious problem.) I was pretty sure that Lewis wasn’t making any kind of ethnic characterization or anything, but it’s hard to shake the feeling. Thankfully, reading this blog post by a Lewis expert made me feel so much better (and shows I was on the right path in general with it). I’d explain it, but Dr. Hurd does it better.

The other thing that helped was the afterword that Lewis wrote for the Third Edition, ten years after the original publication. He points to some flaws, or at least things he could’ve done better. I agreed with most of his self-diagnosis, and at least one point, his explanation made me understand an aspect of the book (and, yes, he was right to critique himself).

So, while I’m glad for the additional things that helped me appreciate the book, I trust that with very little effort, I could find more. I shouldn’t have to look to these kinds of things to appreciate a book. To gain a better understanding, sure. But to move me from “meh” to “okay, that wasn’t that bad/objectional” should come from the text itself—not from others.

So, what did I think about The Pilgrim’s Regress?

It’s been almost a century since this was first published, and I cannot decide if it’s a good thing or not that so many of the characters and ideas John encounters are still relevant and identifiable (although some details may have altered a bit). The reader can see that these intellectual movements are nothing new—sadly, many of them haven’t been forgotten. One of the best things about reading theological works written generations before me is wondering exactly what the author is targeting (or why they’re bothering)—but the ideas that Lewis wants to confront are still in his readers’ lives. Probably even more than they were for him.

The beginning of the book seemed promising with an uncaring and cold clergy, parents who were off the mark, and so on—I thought John’s journey would lead us to a correction of or confrontation with these things. But no, we get the brown girl and then things go far from where I thought we were going. Naturally, I don’t mind that—but I would’ve appreciated something more definitive. That’s personal taste, though.

Like many allegories, particularly Bunyan’s, there is nothing subtle about The Pilgrim’s Regress. That doesn’t mean it’s not good, or that it’s so clear always that there’s no thinking involved, but, wow—it does tend to feel like it’s hitting you with a brick when John encounters a new person/idea.

Am I glad that I read this? Yes. So I can see Lewis’ development as a writer, to satisfy a certain curiosity in general, and to cross off a decades-old item from my “To Read List.” For people who don’t have at least two of those motivations to pick this up, I can’t really recommend it. I’m not sure I really can for those who do have those motivations—but it satisfies those particular itches.

Is this bad? By no means. It’s not good either. I did particularly enjoy certain lines, scenes, or encounters. I thought some of the ways that Lewis framed the better alternatives to be refreshing and helpful. But overall this really did nothing for me.

3 Stars

The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis: His First Apologetic Work is a Mixed Bag

By HCNewton

On February 2, 2025

In C.S. Lewis, Further Up and Further In, Non-Fiction, Theology/Christian Living

Further Up and Further In A Year with C.S.Lewis

The Problem of Pain

by C. S. Lewis

DETAILS:
Publisher: HarperOne
Publication Date: April 28, 2015
Format: Paperback
Length: 159 pg.
Read Date: January 5-12, 2025

His Omnipotence means power to do all that is intrinsically possible, not to do the intrinsically impossible. You may attribute miracles to Him, but not nonsense. This is no limit to His power. If you choose to say ‘God can give a creature free will and at the same time withhold free will from it’, you have not succeeded in saying anything about God: meaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix to them the two other words ‘God can’. It remains true that all things are possible with God: the intrinsic impossibilities are not things but nonentities. It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of His creatures to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives; not because His power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God.

What’s The Problem of Pain About?

This book is an attempt to answer the question, “Why do Bad Thing Happen to Good People?” as well as “Why do Bad Things Happen to Not-Good People, or Animals, or Pretty Much at All?” Why is there suffering among those beings and creatures that God created?

Lewis approaches these questions with a mix of Biblical wisdom, careful thought, compassion, and understanding. And the ability to not go too far (frequently) with his own insight, but to stop and say, “I don’t know.”

This is an honest, if imperfect, attempt to wrestle with these questions, put them in the right context, and assure the world and the Church that there are answers.

Some Weaknesses

This is the work of someone who is still relatively new to the Faith as he wrote it, and that shows. There’s a lot of vaguely Christian speculation. But not quite enough dealing with the text of Scripture to base this speculation on.

Chapter 5, “The Fall of Man,” is a great example of this. It contains a lot of nonsense—and by the end of the chapter, he’d lost me completely (not that I didn’t understand him, I just couldn’t stay with him). Still, I liked most of it, and given the presuppositions he started with and stated (as much as I’d want to tweak them), I could ride along with his argument and enjoy it. The last paragraph of the chapter was okay and went a good way to getting me to stick with the book.

A Few Good Points

I don’t know that I have the patience to work through these ideas—and this would post would end up going in a direction I try to avoid if I did. But I rather enjoyed these quotations and like thinking through these ideas, so let me just paste them here as an example of the highs that this book can hit—and the thoughts it can provoke.

From Chapter 3, “Divine Goodness.”

We want, in fact, not so much a Father in Heaven as a grandfather in heaven—a senile benevolence who, as they say, ‘liked to see young people enjoying themselves’, and whose plan for the universe was simply that it might be truly said at the end of each day, ‘a good time was had by all’. Not many people, I admit, would formulate a theology in precisely those terms: but a conception not very different lurks at the back of Many minds. I do not claim to be an exception: I should very much like to live in a universe which was governed on such lines, But since it is abundantly clear that I don’t, and since I have reason to believe, nevertheless, that God is Love, I conclude that my conception of love needs correction.

From Chapter 6, “Human Pain”:

Confessors as well as martyrs are saved, and some old people whose state of grace we can hardly doubt seem to have got through their seventy years surprisingly easily. The sacrifice of Christ is repeated, or re-echoed, among His followers in very varying degrees, from the cruelest martyrdom down to a self-submission of intention whose outward signs have nothing to distinguish them from the ordinary fruits of temperance and “sweet reasonableness’. The causes of this distribution I do not know; but from our present point of view it ought to be clear that the real problem is not why some humble, pious, believing people suffer, but why some do not. Our Lord Himself, it will be remembered, explained the salvation of those who are fortunate in this world only by referring to the unsearchable omnipotence of God.

From Chapter 7, “Human Pain Continued” (which might be my favorite chapter, although the preceding one is close)

But if suffering is good, ought it not to be pursued rather than avoided? I answer that suffering is not good in itself. What is good in any painful experience is, for the sufferer, his submission to the will of God, and, for the spectators, the compassion aroused and the acts of mercy to which it leads.

So, what did I think about The Problem of Pain?

If any real theologian reads these pages he will very easily see that they are the work of a layman and an amateur. Except in the last two chapters, parts of which are admittedly speculative, I have believed myself to be restating ancient and orthodox doctrines. If any parts of the book are ‘original’, in the sense of being novel or unorthodox, they are so against my will and as a result of my ignorance. I write, of course, as a layman of the Church of England: but I have tried to assume nothing that is not professed by all baptised and communicating Christians.

As this is not a work of erudition I have taken little pains to trace ideas or quotations to their sources when they were not easily recoverable. Any theologian will see easily enough what, and how little, I have read.

Despite many good things Lewis wrote in this work, these two paragraphs that close the Preface might be the truest. Lewis makes some serious errors here, misreading Scripture and showing an ignorance of theology (what he says about Total Depravity is the easiest illustration of this). He’s a layman, he’s allowed (many who read this will be quick to point the same is true of me—and I assure you, I’m just as aware as Lewis was). There’s a part of me that wishes he’d continued in his efforts to not write this.

Still, he did. And I do appreciate him wrestling with so many important ideas here—if nothing else, the way he framed the questions and thought through his answers demonstrates that “The Problem of Pain” can be responded to, can be shown to not be an insurmountable problem. Best of all, Lewis demonstrates that a thoughtful believer can have questions, can struggle, can find things difficult, and yet continue to believe.

Lewis has greater works ahead (I know because I’ve read some of these), and while I ultimately find his work here to be wanting—I respect the effort. I find a lot worthy of chewing on—but sadly, there’s a lot of it that must be ignored.

I do recommend it as a tool to make yourself consider some difficult ideas, and to find some good ways to think about them.

3 Stars

Opening Lines: Miracles by C.S. Lewis

By HCNewton

On March 31, 2024

In Fiction, News/Misc., Non-Fiction, Opening Lines, Quotations, Theology/Christian Living

from Miracles by C.S. Lewis:

In all my life I have met only one person who claims to have seen a ghost. And the interesting thing about the story is that that person disbelieved in the immortal soul before she saw the ghost and still disbelieves after seeing it. She says that what she saw must have been an illusion or a trick of the nerves, And obviously she may be right. Seeing is not believing.

For this reason, the question whether miracles occur can never be answered simply by experience. Every event which might claim to be a miracle is, in the last resort, something presented to our senses, something seen, heard, touched, smelled, or tasted. And our senses are not infallible. If anything extraordinary seems to have happened, we can always say that we have been the victims of an illusion. If we hold a philosophy which excludes the supernatural, this is what we always shall say. What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we bring to experience. It is therefore useless to appeal to experience before we have settled, as well as we can, the philosophical question.

If immediate experience cannot prove or disprove the miraculous, still less can history do so. Many people think one can decide whether a miracle occurred in the past by examining the evidence “according to the ordinary rules of historical inquiry.” But the ordinary rules cannot be worked until we have decided whether miracles are possible, and if so, how probable they are. For if they are impossible, then no amount of historical evidence will convince us. If they are possible but immensely improbable, then only mathematically demonstrative evidence will convince us: and since history never provides that degree of evidence for any event, history can never convince us that a miracle occurred. If, on the other hand, miracles are not intrinsically improbable, then the existing evidence will be sufficient to convince us that quite a number of miracles have occurred, The result of our historical enquiries thus depends on the philosophical views which we have been holding before we even began to look at the evidence, The philosophical question must therefore come first.

Here is an example of the sort of thing that happens if we omit the preliminary philosophical task, and rush on to the historical. In a popular commentary on the Bible you will find a discussion of the date at which the Fourth Gospel was written. The author says it must have been written after the execution of St. Peter, because, in the Fourth Gospel, Christ is represented as predicting the execution of St. Peter. “A book,” thinks the author, “cannot be written before events which it refers to.” Of course it cannot—unless real predictions ever occur. If they do, then this argument for the date is in ruins, And the author has not discussed at all whether real predictions are possible. He takes it for granted (perhaps unconsciously) that they are not. Perhaps he is right: but if he is, he has not discovered this principle by historical inquiry. He has brought his disbelief in predictions to his historical work, so to speak, ready made. Unless he had done so his historical conclusion about the date of the Fourth Gospel could not have been reached at all. His work is therefore quite useless to a person who wants to know whether predictions occur, The author gets to work only after he has already answered that question in the negative, and on grounds which he never communicates to us.

This book is intended as a preliminary to historical inquiry. I am not a trained historian and I shall not examine the historical evidence for the Christian miracles, My effort is to put my readers in a position to do so. It is no use going to the texts until we have some idea about the possibility or probability of the miraculous, Those who assume that miracles cannot happen are merely wasting their time by looking into the texts we know in advance what results they will find for they have begun by begging the question.

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