The Anti Anti C.S. Lewis

It's Valentine's Day. A day of love. A day of fun. A day of sugar cookies (for me anyway). Yet I am provoked to wrath.

A family friend recently decided to take a few swipes at C.S. Lewis, decrying, among other things, those who "constantly quote him." It's one thing indeed to check those foolish among us who might treat him as a prophet (he was not) or those who declare him to be "the be-all-end-all of the gospel" (which would be silly).* It's entirely another to disparage the man and his writings.

Tsk Tsk Sister Astle, I think you're making a big mistake -- a mistake you should be too smart to make.

Here's the first clue: you've admittedly never read anything he's written! Instead, your familiarity with C.S. Lewis appears to be based entirely on: (1) quotes from talks/church articles; (2) watching the recent cinematic adapation of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.
You've been given bread crumbs (and in the case of the movie, moldy bread crumbs) and yet seemed to have declared yourself familiar enough to give an opinion on the entire feast. Sure you are better than that.

Indeed, if you think simply that The Screwtape Letters gives "great points regarding the devil and his attempts to lead us away from our goals" then you have missed the weightier and more valuable portion of the book. The devils in the book are merely a vehicle for him to address subjects such as prayer, discipleship, humility, love, and death. Additionally, Letter VIII addresses trials or, as he refers to certain trials, "spiritual troughs." In all I have ever read on trials and enduring, I'm not sure if I've ever read anything quite as touching and inspiring. I'm quite serious.

Be careful not to cast the book aside just because people, including recently President Faust, -- are fond of quoting it, or because you perceive some have an unhealthy obsession with it. They're quoting it for a reason -- and they're not even quoting the best parts!

Ah, and you've apparently prejudged The Chronicles of Narnia because you've seen the latest movie. Not a good move (and, after repeated viewings, not that great of a movie). It's the same kind mistake you'd be making if you'd decided on the New Testament by comparing the battle scenes in the Four Gospels to the battle scenes in The Passion of the Christ. What battle scenes, you ask? Exactly. Let's just generally try to avoid judging a book based on the movie.**

You also don't want to miss out on several chapters in Mere Christianity, or the allegories in The Horse and His Boy, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Prince Caspian, and The Great Divorce. If that weren't enough, his books are refreshingly short.

So let me put it simply: Lewis was not a prophet. He is not "the be-all-end-all of the Gospel." Be that as it may, many, many of his writings (*not all*) are inspired and offering compelling insights on gospel principles -- far more than you've given him credit for. People do well to quote him.

Your criticism of his writing is uninformed and undeserved. Lest my wrath be upon you, I think you owe him an apology.


*I've never actually met or talked with anyone that I knew to be guilty of either offense. Furthermore, I'm almost certain I've heard and read the same conference talks and "countless church articles" that quote C.S. Lewis and have yet to sense any unhealthy admiration of the man or any undue weight to his writings.

**For what it's worth, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe is among my least favorite books in the Narnia Series.

Lessons Learned From Christmas

This post finds me in Layton, UT at the Clark home. Somehow the chaos feels like home, and we're looking forward to ringing in the New Year with a raucous party--at least until midnight (The only thing worse for New Year's than it falling on Sunday is when New Year's Eve falls on Sunday).

While I have a moment, a few comments and commentary on this past Christmas:

• The book A Christmas Carol provides an infinitely more enjoyable experience than any of the movies can provide. Dickens' playful narration is the main reason, though the movies also miss nuance (perhaps generally true of movies). For instance, in the book the Ghost of Christmas future actually shows some kinds of kindness at the end when Scrooge has seen his grave and is pleading for a 2nd chance. It changes the whole perception of the ghost that seems impossible given how the movies seem compelled to portray him (or could the Ghost be a her?).
• We never repent of having eating too little.
• Even on vacation now, my work never leaves me.
• "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe" is a fine movie. There've been some mediocre reviews, focusing apparently on the limitations of child actors and the fact that it's not The Lord of the Rings. I thought the movie a more than adequate adaptation, my only minor nitpick being that Aslan was not portrayed as being omniscient--apparently needing to question others to learn the fates of the children and others instead of questioning for the benefit of those he questions. I loved the soundtrack too.
• Those Christmas radio stations that stop abruptly the day after Christmas are a bit harsh. Especially given that most of us got that Monday off too in celebration of Christmas, at least try and ease us out of the season.
• Conversations on Christmas over the phone with family are a poor substitute for their company.
• Jared was far more excited about December 25th being his birthday than it being Christmas. He'd recently seen his mother blow out candles and thought it was the neatest thing he'd ever seen. Next year he may be more interested in Santa Clause, since he now knows that the wrapped boxes under the tree actually had toys in them.
• My parents threats to yet again cancel my Christmas after I exposed them in my last blog reveals just how little they've learned in the intervening years. For their sakes, I hope next year to find that Nintendo under my tree.
• Driving out of California takes 3 times as long as Mapquest indicates (15 mph for 2 hours out of San Bernadino County), and try to avoid Las Vegas at rush hour (again, 15 mph for 1.5 hours).
• The proffering of cheap buffets at the Casinos in Mesquite, NV is supplemented by long lines and the smell of entrenched cigarette smoke.
• Never stop in Mesquite, NV except for gas.

Now let's see if we can survive New Year's and the drive back to Irvine on Jan. 2d.

A Lesson From Narnia

I've had a little over a week since taking the California bar, which leaves me with about three weeks before I start working. This is, I suppose, my last real chance for a summer vacation.

I've tried to take care this week to do something worthwhile every now and again. I'm careful not to play too many video games, which also keeps me in Michelle's good graces. I've also been quick to suggest family trips to the zoo, the beach, or elsewhere. And I've been crafty enough to play golf in the very early hours of the day, so that my absence for such outings is minimally noticed.

Lately, too, I've reacquainted myself with reading for pleasure--which has made it a good deal easier to turn off the TV in the evenings (though now having a DVR and having the Cubs blow yet another baseball season helps with that immensely too--but I'll leave that for another post). It started when I read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince a few days before the bar exam.

After the exam, I decided to pick up the Chronicles of Narnia again. I read them quickly after my mission, and have meant to read them again but never made the time. C.S. Lewis called them childrens stories, and they can be enjoyed on that level. His allusions to God and Christianity, though, are what have me coming back to the books even at 27. I think Lewis intended that. In some of these books he's able to make points about Gospel Principles and about the nature of God that perhaps he'd not adequately be able to do outside the context of the story.

Anyway, yesterday I read The Horse and His Boy and my mind has been lingering ever since on that portion of the story where Aslan walks with Shasta up the mountain in the darkness. It's a touching moment where Shasta and the reader learn of Aslan's mindfulness of Shasta, even though Shasta had no notion of it until then.

I caught myself thinking about that very same moment again today as I watched Jared while he was in nursery and I was between the 2nd and 3rd hours of church. Jared, you see, has had great difficulty adjusting to the nursery. Up until today he has either cried himself out of the room or required Mom or Dad to be there with him.

Today, though, he was trying to manage it without us, though not willingly. Michelle asked me to stay back in the hall and watch him for a bit from the window to make sure he'd be all right. I watched him for some time as a nursery worker read him a story, as he tried to play by himself, and as he coped with another child screaming. I watched him anxiously for signs that he'd be ok, and felt ready to rush in to comfort him if the need arose. All throughout, he never knew I was there watching.

As I thought on that, my heart nearly burst to realize that God had been doing the same for me, only He had waited with me longer, with perfect patience, perfect care and concern, and a perfect ability to comfort. He has been just out of my view in my worst and best moments, but He has been there. And He will be waiting there for me still for years to come, though I'll sadly probably never quite adequately acknowledge His hand, either in what has been or in what remains.

At that moment, though, it was enough to be reminded that He is there. I felt glad to be a parent, if only because the responsibilities of parenthood lend insights into mind and character of God toward His children. I felt glad, too, that that brief moment earlier today helped me more willingly turn to Him, and feel more confident that my earnest petitions for aid would be readily answered--regardless of whether I'm cognizant of such answers.