cs lewis

Fantasy - A door to reality that's closing, and why we should keep it open

Richard Dahlstrom — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 10:46:25 -0800

This past weekend, as part of our plans to insulate our attic bedroom, I was searching out the “art” part of the project and stumbled upon these lovely works from England. They’re part of folklore, fairy tale genre that hints at a different world – they’re not the world itself, but just a hint of it, a marker pointing us in a direction beyond what we can touch, taste, and feel in this here and now. As Lewis says, they are “only the scent of flower we have not found, the hint of a tune we have not heard, the news from a country we have never visited.” Lewis proposes that our love of fairy tales reveals that we’re made for more than this life, more than buying and selling, living and dying, watching Glee and filling our our March Madness bracket. He proposes that the fairy tales themselves point towards another part of our world, invisible yet real.

As Dennis Haack writes, “right up to the medieval age, the church believed that fantasy creatures, sorcerers, ghouls, goblins, and ghosts were as ancient as creation. Their inclusion reminded everyone that humans are more than mere mortals or machines.” Fairy tales hint at the grand meta-narrative that permeates the universe, the cosmic struggle between good and evil. This is why Christians like CS Lewis, JR Tolkien, and yes, even JK Rowlings, tell fantastic tales, and it’s why nearly everyone’s a fan of at least of one of these authors.

During the Victorian age though, much to Lewis’ dismay, fairy tales were sanitized and moved from the parlor to the nursery. 20th century evangelicals have taken the whole thing a step further, often vilifying Harry Potter and Halloween, rather than leaning into to the truths contained therin: there are powers beyond this physical ream – real evil exists in the this world, and real good – honor, sacrifice, and courage are things that matter, as does beauty and our longings to be caught up in a story larger than our sanitized lives.

Some of this stems from our desire to protect children from the realities of this cosmic struggle. I understand the desire to shelter, but hear this: Life is not safe. Following Christ is not safe. Confronting evil in the world, whether in our own hearts or in the power structures around us, is not safe. But neither is it boring. In our attempts to make our faith safe and sane, we’ve created a precious moments version of Christianity, with pastel figures splashed across the pages of our children’s bible, highlighting our sanitized view of the faith. There’s paste Noah entering the ark with all the happy animals (but no drowning masses). There’s the pastel version of David strumming on his harp (but no picture of him cutting of Goliath’s head). There’s no pastel Tamar, disguising herself as a prostitute and sleeping with Judah either. (did you know that in the original version of sleeping beauty, the princess was wakened, not by a kiss, but by giving birth to twins, conceived while she slept as the prince…well, you know how these things happen!)

We’ve sanitized it all, sort of pretending that there is no cosmic struggle, that there are no powers higher than our college degree and credit card. The result is often, as Dennis Haack says, a church that offers a “therapeutic God and advertises church as a ‘safe’ place.”

What’s needed is the recovery of our authentic sense of mysticism, our sense that the world is bigger than what we see and touch, that the invisible forces of evil in our world are real (because they are), and that we’re invited into God’s story, even more so than Edmund was invited in by Aslan. This is the kind of life I want to live – saturated with mystery and glory, right in the midst of bill paying, shopping, and yes, even insulating the attic.

What are your thoughts? Have we sanitized our gospel too much? How about our fairy tales? Why are Christians afraid of Harry Potter but not CS Lewis?

Confessing The Sins of The Church and Why Church Is Boring

Nick Bogardus — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 15:07:25 -0700

Two more great quotes from Why We Love The Church. I wish I could post every line I've highlighted so far in this book but I think I'd probably drive you all crazy. Just do us both a favor and read this book. This first excerpt is from co-author Kevin DeYoung.

[In speaking of the current trend among many younger Christians of confessing the past sins of the church.]

""When a man over forty tries to repent of the sins of England and to love her enemies, " writes [C.S.] Lewis, "he is attempting something costly; for he was brought up to certain patriotic sentiments which cannot be moritified without a struggle. But an educated man who is now in his twenties usually has no such sentiment to mortify. In art, in literature, in politics, he has been, ever since he can remember, one of an angry and restless minority; he has drunk in almost with with his mother's milk a distrust of English statesmen and a contempt for the manners, pleasures, and enthusiasm of his less-educated fellow countrymen."

Younger generations today face these same dengers with regard to the church. In confessing all the sins of the church, we have everything to gainand nothing to mortify. This isn't to suggest that the church hasn't gotten things dreadfully wrong, but it is to suggest that slavery and the Crusades are no the things thirtysomething Americans are likely to get wrong today. We would do well to listen to Lewis from seven decades ago: "The communal sins which they should be told to repent are those of their own age and class - its contempt for the uneducated, its readiness to suspect evil, its self-righteous provocations of public obloquy, its breaches of the Fifth Commandment. Of these sins I have heard nothing among them. Till I do, I must think their candour towards the national enemy a rather inexpensive virtue.""

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This excerpt is curteousy of co-author Ted Kluck.

'Church isn't boring because we're not showing enough film clips, or because we play an organ instead of guitar. It's boring because we neuter it of its importance. Too often we treat our spiritual lives like the round of golf used to open George Barna's Revolution. At the end of my life, I want my friends and family to remember me as someone who battled for the Gospel, who tried to mortify sin in my life, who found hard for life, and who contended earnestly for the faith. Not just a nice guy who occasionally noticed the splendor of the mountains God created, while otherwise just trying to enjoy myself, manage my schedule, and work on my short game."

HT: Team Pyro

Is It Hypocritical to Love?

Dr. Gary Chapman — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 12:40:38 -0700

Some may question the concept of loving someone you resent. Isn’t that being hypocritical? You have negative feelings, but you are doing or saying something positive. When I hear that question, I am reminded of what the British scholar C. S. Lewis said:

The rule for all of us is perfectly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you “love” your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this, we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you love someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more. If you do him a good turn, you will find yourself disliking him less.

Your Feelings Aren’t Always Right
Love is sometimes the choice to go against your feelings. It’s similar to what I do every morning when I get up. I don’t know about you, but if I only got out of bed on the mornings I felt like getting out of bed, I’d pretty much never get up. Almost every morning, including this morning, I go against my feelings, get up, do something I think to be good, and before the day is over, I feel good about having done it. Love is not a feeling; it is a way of behaving. Feelings follow behavior; therefore, loving feelings follow loving behavior. Loving actions on my part not only bring me positive feelings about myself, but, if spoken in the love language of the other person, they will stimulate positive feelings inside them.

Someone once said, “Following the path of least resistance is what makes people and rivers crooked. People seldom drift to success.” Love takes effort, but the dividends are enormous.