C.S. Lewis & Longevity

How long is it good for us to live? That’s a strange question, I know. But, do you have an answer? C.S. Lewis had some thoughts on the subject that you may find provocative.

Aging is on my mind this week. I had never thought about myself becoming a septuagenarian – but this week I became one. Well, I still think of myself as being in my fifties, but that appears to be more common than one would guess. When I entered my fifties, I told my dad (then in his seventies) that “I still picture myself as being in my thirties.”

My dad responded without a moment’s thought: “That doesn’t surprise me at all. I still think of myself as being in my fifties.” 

Many people become preoccupied with age. The only time I recall it mattering to me, was when I turned eighteen – able to vote, and registered for the draft (with Vietnam still a war zone) . . . and when I turned twenty-one, for reasons I prefer not to divulge at this time.

People are living longer, and I’m not convinced that translates into living better. Listen to C.S. Lewis, as he writes in his essay “Is Progress Possible?”

I care far more how humanity lives than how long. Progress, for me, means increasing goodness and happiness of individual lives. For the species, as for each man, mere longevity seems to me a contemptible ideal.

Lewis elaborates on this concept – that long life and happiness do not always intertwine – in the Screwtape Letters. The words which follow are the advice of a senior Tempter (devil) to a less experienced junior.

The truth is that the Enemy [i.e. the true God], having oddly destined these mere animals to life in His own eternal world, has guarded them pretty effectively from the danger of feeling at home anywhere else. That is why we must often wish long life to our patients; seventy years is not a day too much for the difficult task of unravelling their souls from Heaven and building up a firm attachment to the Earth.

While they are young we find them always shooting off at a tangent. Even if we contrive to keep them ignorant of explicit religion, the incalculable winds of fantasy and music and poetry . . . are always blowing our whole structure away. They will not apply themselves steadily to worldly advancement, prudent connections, and the policy of safety first.

So inveterate is their appetite for Heaven, that our best method, at this stage, of attaching them to Earth is to make them believe that Earth can be turned into Heaven at some future date by politics or eugenics or “science” or psychology or what not.

Real worldliness is a work of time. . . . How valuable time is to us may be gauged by the fact that the Enemy allows us so little of it. . . .

We are allowed to work only on a selected minority of the race, for what humans call a “normal life” is the exception. Apparently He wants some – but only a very few – of the human animals with which He is peopling Heaven to have had the experience of resisting us through an earthly life of sixty or seventy years. Well, there is our opportunity. The smaller it is, the better we must use it. (Letter XXVIII).

Sadly, far too many people grow far too attached to this world. They lose sight of the promise of Resurrection (if they had ever known it), and as death approaches crave just one more year, another month, another week, another day, even another hour.

Now, I’m not saying long life is a negative, per se. I agree with C.S. Lewis when he wrote “I must never, like the Stoics, say that death does not matter. Nothing is less Christian than that” (“The Grand Miracle”). The danger is not in enjoying the Lord’s wonderful creation. It is in growing too attached to this fallen version of it – in losing touch with the truth proclaimed by musician Larry Norman, that this sin-stained world is not our ultimate home.

Dying

Having been at the bedside of too many people as they face their mortality, I have witnessed many final days. Some literally go, trembling and cursing. Others depart with grim resignation, and no evidence of hope. And then there are those who die with faith, experiencing true peace and joyous anticipation, despite the pain they may be enduring. 

I wish everyone could die in such a state, at peace and earnestly desiring to see the glory of God unblurred by our mortal eyes (1 Corinthians 13). 

On that day we will enter into the fullness of life, into eternal life. (Dr. Michael Zeigler offers an encouraging sermon you can read or listen to at “The Problem and Promise of Deathbed Conversion.”)

The Screwtape Letters is one of C.S. Lewis’ most imitated books. I have even experimented with his model myself. But, rather than emulate these letters, today I would be so bold as to offer an addition to this demonic epistle. 

My supplement is not intended for Christians, except as a truth they may wish to share with others who are walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

And never, my dear Wormwood, at the risk of your own torment, forget this one dire threat. Even after a long life, lived in hedonistic pleasure, deeply tethered to this decaying world, it is still possible for these wretches to be rescued from our claws.

The Enemy is so blindly compassionate that he will foolishly overlook a magnitude of savory sins sown during a carnal life. The dissolute lives we have toiled so steadfastly to soil with uncountable depravities and unrelenting selfishness, remain vulnerable until the patients’ final breath is exhaled.

The Gordian Knot we have so skillfully twisted can be undone in an instant, if they cry out to the Enemy for forgiveness. That is why we must remain vigilant to the very end. It is ideal to have them railing at the end against a God who has allowed them to suffer.

Yet it is sufficient that they die without that rage. A hopeless resignation to what they foolishly consider the end of their existence, still provides fodder for the insatiable appetite of Our Father Below quite adequately.

Final Encouragement

God’s mercy is beyond our ability to comprehend it. While there is breath, there remains hope. Even at the end of a squandered life, God’s love in Jesus Christ is sufficient to wash away every failing, and usher a penitent soul into the glory of everlasting life. 

Remember that, if you find yourself feeling too defiled to come to Christ at the end, that is a lie of Satan. Every single one of us Christians was in similar straits – “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

And, should you ever have the experience of traveling beside a dying friend who sees only darkness ahead, share with them this gospel hope.

George MacDonald’s Poetry

George MacDonald (1824-1905) was a prolific Scot writer. His legacy was amplified due to his influence on G.K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis. (He was also a friend of Mark Twain.) An essay, originally presented as a speech by G.K. Chesterton, is available online.

Chesterton goes so far as to say, “if to be a great man is to hold the universe in one’s head or heart, Dr. MacDonald is great. No man has carried about with him so naturally heroic an atmosphere.” Listen to his description of that special type of literature that inspired many Inklings, chiefly C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many religious writers have written allegories and fairy tales, which have gone to creating the universal conviction that there is nothing that shows so little spirituality as an allegory, and nothing that contains so little imagination as a fairy tale. But from all these Dr. MacDonald is separated by an abyss of profound originality of intention.

The difference is that the ordinary moral fairy tale is an allegory of real life. Dr. MacDonald’s tales of real life are allegories, or disguised versions, of his fairy tales.

It is not that he dresses up men and movements as knights and dragons, but that he thinks that knights and dragons, really existing in the eternal world, are dressed up here as men and movements.

C.S. Lewis, for his part, praised MacDonald as instrumental in tilling the soil for his eventual conversion to Christianity. He was on the defensive, since the writers which most inspired him shared a common flaw – they were Christians.

All the books were beginning to turn against me. Indeed, I must have been as blind as a bat not to have seen, long before, the ludicrous contradiction between my theory of life and my actual experiences as a reader.

George MacDonald had done more to me than any other writer; of course it was a pity he had that bee in his bonnet about Christianity. He was good in spite of it.

Chesterton had more sense than all the other moderns put together; bating, of course, his Christianity. Johnson was one of the few authors whom I felt I could trust utterly; curiously enough, he had the same kink. Spenser and Milton by a strange coincidence had it too (Surprised by Joy).

Lewis would actually come to edit a selection of MacDonald’s passages for an edifying anthologyThis post includes a link for downloading a copy of George MacDonald: An Anthology.

This week I was reading one of MacDonald’s excellent essays, which appears in The Imagination and Other Essays. I intend to discuss some of his thoughts on age and writing soon. Although I am not an aficionado of poetry – despite having composed poetry from time to time, including quintains, I turned to another of MacDonald’s books.

On to His Poetry

I decided to follow up MacDonald’s brilliant essay with a dip into his poetry. Fortunately, Internet Archive allows you to freely download a complete copy of MacDonald’s Scotch Songs and Ballads, published in 1893. My conscience forces me, however, to provide a single caveat. Be forewarned that the tome is not suited for those intimidated by pronounced dialects.

Before looking at one of his poems in its entirety, allow me to share with you a passage from “The Waesome Carl” which I particularly enjoyed (due to its portrait of a preacher). 

The minister wasna fit to pray
And lat alane to preach;
He nowther had the gift o’ grace
Nor yet the gift o’ speech!
He mind’t him o’ Balaäm’s ass,
Wi’ a differ we micht ken:
The Lord he opened the ass’s mou,
The minister opened’s ain!
He was a’ wrang, and a’ wrang,
And a’thegither a’ wrang;
There wasna a man aboot the toon
But was a’thegither a’ wrang!
The puir precentor couldna sing,
He gruntit like a swine . . .

Not that I claim able to decipher it all, but my impression is that it’s not especially flattering. It is definitely entertaining. And I humbly think I interpret it significantly more accurately than Google’s online translator, which provided the following version.

The minister was not fit to pray
And lat alane to preach;
He nowther had the gift o’ grace
Nor yet the gift o’ speech!
He mind’t him o’ Balaam’s ass,
Wi’ a differ we micht ken:
The Lord he opened the ass’s mou,
The minister opened his eyes!
He was a’ wrang, and a’ wrang,
And a’thegither a’wrang;
There was a man aboot the toon
But thegither was wrong!
The puir precentor couldna sing,
He grunted like a swine. . .

Using the Dictionars o the Scots Leid, you can make perfect sense of the words about which you may be uncertain. (Thank you, Scotland.)

Dialects are interesting things indeed. I will close with another of MacDonald’s poems. I submit it for (1) those who comprehend the dialect, (2) those who deem precious their Scottish ancestry, (3) those with an affinity for Connor MacLeod, and (4) those who simply enjoy a challenge.

Nannie Braw

I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nannie,
I’ yer goon and yer ribbons and a’;
But I like ye better on Mondays, Nannie,
Whan ye’re no sae buskit and braw.

For whan we’re sittin sae douce, Nannie,
Wi’ the lave o’ the worshippin fowk,
That aneth the haly hoose, Nannie,
Ye micht hear a moudiwarp howk,

It will come into my heid, Nannie,
O’ yer braws ye are thinkin a wee;
No alane o’ the Bible-seed, Nannie,
Nor the minister nor me!

Syne hame athort the green, Nannie,
Ye gang wi’ a toss o’ yer chin;
And there walks a shadow atween ‘s, Nannie,
A dark ane though it be thin!

But noo, whan I see ye gang, Nannie,
Eident at what’s to be dune,
Liltin a haiveless sang, Nannie,
I wud kiss yer verra shune!

Wi’ yer silken net on yer hair, Nannie,
I’ yer bonnie blue petticoat,
Wi’ yer kin’ly arms a’ bare, Nannie,
On yer ilka motion I doat.

For, oh, but ye’re canty and free, Nannie,
Airy o’ hert and o’ fit!
A star-beam glents frae yer ee, Nannie–
O’ yersel ye’re no thinkin a bit!

Fillin the cogue frae the coo, Nannie,
Skimmin the yallow ream,
Pourin awa the het broo, Nannie,
Lichtin the lampie’s leme,

Turnin or steppin alang, Nannie,
Liftin and layin doon,
Settin richt what’s aye gaein wrang, Nannie,
Yer motion’s baith dance and tune!

I’ the hoose ye’re a licht and a law, Nannie,
A servan like him ‘at’s abune:
Oh, a woman’s bonniest o’ a’, Nannie,
Doin what maun be dune!

Cled i’ yer Sunday claes, Nannie,
Fair kythe ye to mony an ee;
But cled i’ yer ilka-day’s, Nannie,
Ye draw the hert frae me!

Addendum:

For those interested in pursuing this linguistic subject, I just came across a delightful 1896 collection of works you can download for free. Legends of the Saints: in the Scottish Dialect of the Fourteenth Century is “edited from the unique manuscript in the University Library, Cambridge.”


The cartoon above comes from Mr. Punch in the Highlands which was published “with 140 illustrations” more than a century ago. You can download your personal copy of humorous work at Internet Archive.

Do Lay People Think?

Attending seminary was shocking. Having grown up in Lutheran communities with a high view of the Scriptures, I anticipated entering an environment where I would grow in my knowledge and regard for God’s word. A setting consistent with our Reformation theology which confessed “Sola Scriptura,” the Scriptures alone, as the ultimate authority for doctrine and life.

I was amazed at the theology taught by a few of the faculty who were disciples of Bultmann’s radically skeptical interpretation of Christianity.

One morning I was in the seminary cafeteria – the aptly named Diet of Worms – commiserating over this situation with several other students who shared my astonishment. I said something to the effect of “Is Lutheranism what liberal theologians think, or what the majority of Confessionally-grounded lay people in the pews think?”

Apparently one of the New Testament professors had overheard our conversation. He could not resist walking over, leaning over our table, and asking – “Do lay people think?”

I’ve never forgotten the vanity and unintentional irony in that rhetorical comment. As I recall, it elicited a complicit chuckle from the entourage of liberal students already falling under his spell.

The greatest Christian apologist of the twentieth century, C.S. Lewis, was neither a cleric nor a theologian. Lewis described himself as “a very ordinary layman of the Church of England” (Mere Christianity). In the same work he expressed his lifelong position. Since he was not theologically trained, he was constrained from making authoritative declarations about complex matters.

I am only a layman, and at this point we are getting into deep water. I can only tell you, for what it is worth, how I, personally, look at the matter.

Pastors & Theologians, What are they Good For?

Some will answer that question echoing the words of the 1970 classic by the Temptations: “absolutely nothing.”

In an over-reaction to the errors of the medieval Papacy, some Protestants threw out all of the legitimate practices which had developed in the early church, including the ordination of pastors. The anti-clerical communities vary in their attitudes toward higher education for “teachers and elders,” but rarely regard such studies as necessary, or even a plus.

Most denominations, however, have maintained an awareness that having future pastors devote several years to biblical and theological studies is vital to the church’s wellbeing. Add to that additional subjects such as counseling and homiletics – skills that are essential – and you should get well-rounded pastors. 

Sadly, there are plenty of exceptions. I have written about wolves in sheep’s clothing in the past. Still, discerning students attending trustworthy seminaries invariably become better equipped to fulfill the demands of pastoral ministry. Check out “The Relevance of Theological Education” in the (free) journal Themelios which is published by the Gospel Coalition. Themelios is the Greek word for “foundation.” The article begins:

Most theological students have doubts at some time about the usefulness of their theological training. Some of these doubts are justified, since most theological courses leave plenty of room for improvement. But some of our doubts reflect a lack of understanding of the purpose and function of theological training.

What about Lay People?

Before the word “lay” became associated with distinguishing the mass of people from those within particular professions, it originated to distinguish the believing “laity” who adhere to a faith from clergy of that tradition.

Are clergy holier than laypeople? Definitely not. However, in the Christian faith we acknowledge that they are expected to live with greater moral integrity than those they serve. 

“Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (James 3:1).

It is quite sobering for those who take God’s word seriously. In Paul’s letter to Titus we read a relatively explicit description of the requirements for pastors. 

“This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might . . . appoint elders in every town as I directed you – if anyone is above reproach, the husband of one wife, and his children are believers and not open to the charge of debauchery or insubordination. For an overseer, as God’s steward, must be above reproach.

“He must not be arrogant or quick-tempered or a drunkard or violent or greedy for gain, but hospitable, a lover of good, self-controlled, upright, holy, and disciplined. He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine . . .” (Titus 1).

Different Roles

The inspiration for my post on this subject is an article I read in the 2024 Logos Bible Software Seminary Guide. A PhD theologian wrote “Do Theological Writers Need Theological Education?” which answered its own question in its subtitle: “Yes and No.” The writer states that degrees are most definitely not required.

There is nothing sacrosanct about sitting in a classroom . . . You can be educated through other means, with diligent reading being at the top of the list.

Simultaneously, he defends the values of a solid education. I love the way that he responds to the way some people denigrate theological education (because I’ve met more of these folks than I can number).

Today’s many populists might beg to differ. They mock “edumucation” and deride the arrogant eggheads who get too much of it. They flout the norms of academic discourse . . . they seem proud of their misspellings.

It’s not as if there is no truth at all in their complaints: educated people do indeed often give in to arrogance. But it’s not at all clear to me that arrogance about one’s ignorance is any better.

I concur. I’m against arrogance altogether – along with C.S. Lewis. “Lewis on Intellectual Pride” speaks directly to the question I’ve addressed herein. Discussing Lewis’ warnings about pursuing academia, the author says:

Why is intellectual arrogance so quick to rise within us? It makes us feel important. We understand more than others (we think). That makes us better than the ignorant masses (we boast).

Martin Luther described the centrality of God’s self-revelation in determining who is most fit to teach. And that has nothing to do with an individual’s ecclesiastical status.

The Bible is alive, it speaks to me; it has feet, it runs after me; it has hands, it lays hold of me. . . . A simple layman armed with Scripture is to be believed above a pope or a cardinal without it.

So, returning to the question with which I began, do lay people think? I am as scandalized by those very words as I was when I first heard them voiced. That particular professor is no longer alive. But, sadly, his prideful thinking remains with us today. And it’s not only evident in religion; humanity is plagued by an intelligentsia that dismisses the “lay” views of common people across the board. 

The actual truth is that education has its values, and its limitations. And there are innumerable laymen and women who possess wisdom on nearly every subject which is superior to the supposed “experts.” Yes, esteemed doctor of de-supernaturalized theology, lay people can indeed comprehend and share the wisdom of God.

Following C.S. Lewis’ Military Example

Like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, and many of the British men of their generation, C.S. Lewis served in the grim battlefields of the First World War. (However, since Lewis was actually Irish, he could not be drafted, and instead volunteered to serve.)

In recent years a number of books have appeared related to the military service of the Inklings. In A Hobbit, a Wardrobe, and a Great War, the author introduces his discussion with a succinct summary.

For a generation of men and women, [WWI] brought the end of innocence – and the end of faith. Yet for two extraordinary authors and friends, J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, the Great War deepened their spiritual quest. Both men served as soldiers on the Western Front, survived the trenches, and used the experience of that conflict to shape their Christian imagination. . . .

By the time of the Armistice, more than nine million soldiers lay dead and roughly thirty-seven million wounded. On average, there were about 6,046 men killed every day of the war, a war that lasted 1,566 days. In Great Britain, almost six million men—a quarter of Britain’s adult male population – passed through the ranks of the army. About one in eight perished. Tolkien and Lewis might easily have been among their number.

In 1939, a correspondent inquired if Lewis was going to reassume his commission in the army for the new conflict, and he responded with sentiments I have heard voiced by a number of other combat veterans.

No, I haven’t joined the Territorials. I am too old. It would be hypocrisy to say that I regret this. My memories of the last war haunted my dreams for years.

C.S. Lewis proceeded to graphically explain the cost of serving under such pressure. 

Military service, to be plain, includes the threat of every temporal evil: pain and death which is what we fear from sickness: isolation from those we love which is what we fear from exile: toil under arbitrary masters, injustice and humiliation, which is what we fear from slavery: hunger, thirst, cold and exposure which is what we fear from poverty.

I’m not a pacifist. If it’s got to be, it’s got to be. But the flesh is weak and selfish and I think death would be much better than to live through another war.

A new announcement from the United States’ Department of Defense brought Lewis’ situation to mind. It appears that due to a number of factors – not least of which the emphasis on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion,* which (imo) has discouraged veterans from encouraging their children to serve in the armed forces – some services are repeatedly falling short of their recruiting goals. 

In light of the fact that the world is inarguably growing more dangerous – the Doomsday Clock is set at “90 seconds to midnight” – it is alarming that we are unable to fully staff our shrunken military.

Just today my sixteen year old grandson expressed concerns about the resumption of a draft. I could not muster a persuasive argument that it won’t happen. Ironically, the last time the U.S. involuntarily conscripted troops was 1972, the year I turned eighteen. Oh, in the process of including a link to the Selective Service Sytem, I was surprised to learn that a “Medical Draft is in Standby Mode.” 

It is designed to be implemented in connection with a national mobilization in an emergency, and then only if Congress and the President approve the plan and pass and sign legislation to enact it. . . .

[The plan will] provide a fair and equitable draft of doctors, nurses, medical technicians and those with certain other health care skills if, in some future emergency, the military’s existing medical capability proved insufficient and there is a shortage of volunteers. . . .

[If implemented, the plan will] begin a mass registration of male and female health care workers between the ages of 20 and 45. . . . HCPDS [the innocuously named Health Care Personnel Delivery System] would provide medical personnel from a pool of 3.4 million doctors, nurses, specialists and allied health professionals in more than 60 fields of medicine.

No Draft Yet

Since we are not currently at war, the specter of a draft remains ephemeral. Still, the shortage of volunteers has led to a variety of initiatives, such as lowering service qualification standards. These efforts have proven inadequate, resulting in the aforementioned announcement.

Both the Army and the Air Force have begun Retiree Recalls. Yes, that is just what it sounds like. People who have actually retired from the armed forces, normally after 20+ years of active duty, are being recalled to serve again. 

When I heard this news I was stunned. It is legally possible for the military to recall former members via a tiered process, but the first thing that came to my mind was my favorite high school teacher. He had served in Viet Nam as a draftee and finished his enlistment. He once told me that he felt safe, having survived, because now he was in the same call-up status as a “pregnant nun.” (Rather hyperbolic, but comforting to him.)

Fortunately, the current recalls are all voluntary. Only retirees whose personal circumstances make the offer appealing, will respond. As the Air Force Times reports, “Regret retiring? Here’s your shot at a second chance in the Air Force.”

I suspect that even vets who enjoyed their military service will be inclined to consider redonning the uniform as “too much of a good thing.” And if they witnessed the bloody horrors of war, as seen by C.S. Lewis, returning to the ranks would be even less tempting.

Since I, myself, have no desire to resume the demands of military life, I haven’t researched the age requirements for the Air Force recall program. Like Lewis, “I am too old.” 

But amazingly, depending on individual factors, the Army is willing to recall retired volunteers up to the age of seventy. That’s not a typo. As someone reaching that very milestone this summer, I can’t imagine returning to work side-by-side with troops half a century younger than me. 

Now, I pray for peace, knowing that being prepared for war is one way to increase that likelihood. So, I hope the military can throw off some of its political shackles and return to its necessary focus.

Furthermore, like C.S. Lewis, I have a pragmatic view of the effects of war. In “Learning in War-Time,” Lewis summarized the effects of military service during a war. As always, his insights are profound.

What does war do to death? It certainly does not make it more frequent: 100 per cent of us die, and the percentage cannot be increased. . . . Does it increase our chances of painful death? I doubt it. . . .

Does it decrease our chances of dying at peace with God? I cannot believe it. If active service does not persuade a man to prepare for death, what conceivable concatenation of circumstances would?


* This reference is to the convoluted and inequitable DEI philosophy and program(s) being mandated today. In truth, most people value diversity, and all people of goodwill believe in the importance of equity and inclusion. Along with Martin Luther King, Jr., they long for a day when people are not “judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”

Suffering Caused by Labeling Children

Kids are often cruel, dishing out insults and rude nicknames to those they deem “different.” Sadly, not everyone outgrows this ugly behavior. As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Four Loves,

We hear a great deal about the rudeness of the rising generation. I am an oldster myself and might be expected to take the oldsters’ side, but in fact I have been far more impressed by the bad manners of parents to children than by those of children to parents.

I recently discovered an artist whose music reveals the pain caused by this cruelty. In “Not My Name,” Matt Sassano describes how we can move beyond the wounds of our past. For we all understand these hurtful words possess power.

These are the scars
     that I’m forced to live with,
These are the scars
     that mark me as a misfit . . .

Who among us does not bear scars from past struggles? Who among us has never been ridiculed by others?

Despite having a loving mother who sheltered me from much of life’s traumas, I bear my own scars. That’s one reason this song powerfully resonated with me. 

But there is a stronger reason I am touched by “Not My Name.” It’s because, as a pastor I have seen far, far too many women and men who remain buried beneath their pain.

I found healing in God’s grace. The scars now cause me little discomfort, though the memories remain. And I have found healing often begins when people who have endured life’s onslaughts learn they are not alone. 

This man shares a heart just like their own.

These are the scars
     that I am forced to live with
So pick me apart
I won’t fit the mold that you fit
But thеre’s a warrior inside me
That you playеd a part in building
Because you made me understand.

About staying strong when you’ve fought so long
In a world that tells you you don’t belong
Living in the shadow of all your flaws
Where it’s hard to be seen for who you are.

And, the emotionally and spiritually wounded can see how someone suffering like them can proclaim this liberating truth:

So label me
Call me by my pain
That’s not my name
That’s not my name.

I’m so much more
     than your throw away
That’s not my name
That’s not my name. . . .

You won’t sentence me
Your words are dead to me
I know my suffering
     is not my identity.

As impressed as I was with this song, it means all the more now that I learned something about Sassano’s life.

The Sins of the Father

A short biography reveals some of the reason for Sassano’s plaintive spirit. 

He was the son of an unfit pastor, whose anger and abuse crushed his childhood faith. His search for meaning “was intensified by the experience of living with two disabilities: Cerebral Palsy and dyscalculia (which impairs brain functions like navigation and mathematics).

“I spent much of my early life in and out of doctor’s offices and disability meetings, which led me to struggle with my self-perception and self-esteem.”

It is this tragic youth which directly inspires his video “Dear God.” Released in 2022, it reminds me of the lamentations we find in the Scriptures, particularly the Psalms and Jeremiah. In Madeleine L’Engle’s forward to C.S. Lewis’  lamentations in A Grief Observed, she expresses gratitude for his honest treatment of grief’s violence. 

I am grateful to Lewis for the honesty of his journal of grief, because it makes quite clear that the human being is allowed to grieve, that it is normal, it is right to grieve, and the Christian is not denied this natural response to loss.

I am grateful, too, to Lewis for having the courage to yell, to doubt, to kick at God . . . This is a part of healthy grief not often encouraged. It is helpful indeed that C.S. Lewis, who has been such a successful apologist for Christianity, should have the courage to admit doubt about what he has so superbly proclaimed. It gives us permission to admit our own doubts, our own angers and anguishes, and to know that they are part of the soul’s growth.

The video amplifies the power of the lyrics of “Dear God.” So, do watch it.

I’ve got questions, confessions
I just want peace of mind
Time’s fading and I’m waiting
For something I can’t find
I am overwhelmed
Can I endure this hell?
No way to break the spell
I’ll spill my heart again

Dear God
I’ve lost the will to fight
Please give me a sign
I’m empty inside
Got no strength to carry on
The plague has multiplied
It’s eating me alive
How can I survive?
Dear God

Much like C.S. Lewis’ book describing the loss of his wife, Sassano’s songs can help bring healing to those in similar pain. Even if you don’t need to listen to these songs . . . trust me, there is someone you know and care about, who does!

Father Christmas & Crackers

J.R.R. Tolkien wrote, for his children’s enjoyment, an entertaining little story about Father Christmas’ stash of explosives. Read on to see what a mischievous polar bear did with them.

Merry Christmas. No, I’m not late in wishing you a blessed celebration of Christ’s Nativity. The church calendar recognizes Christmas is too big to celebrate just for a single day. The Inklings knew it – Christmas is a season.

One nineteenth century invention has become a part of many families’ celebration of the season. They’re called “Christmas crackers,” and although birthed in Britain, they’ve found a home in many other countries. We adopted them as an annual tradition after living in England for several years.

Their beginning was modest. While many now lack edible treats, they were conceived as a means for selling confectionaries. Their inventor wanted to increase sales of a French treat.

For seven years he worked to develop the bon-bon into something more exciting, but it was not until he sat one evening in front of his fireplace that his great idea came to him. Watching the logs crackle, he imagined a bon-bon with a pop.

He made a coloured paper wrapper and put in it another strip of paper impregnated with chemicals which, when rubbed, created enough friction to produce a noise. He knew that bangs excited children (and were said to frighten evil spirits) – and the mottoes and poems he inserted inside the crackers amused adults (BBC).

Sadly, many of the crackers marketed today have been neutered. To improve their safety (and, no doubt, save production costs), some crackers no longer crack. They contain no “chemicals” to produce the customary bang. Seems like a misnomer to call these variants crackers, at all.

Tolkien’s Father Christmas Letters

Tolkien and his wife were blessed with four children, and they were doting parents. Each Christmas between 1920 and 1943, the famed author wrote and illustrated a pseudonymous letter to his kids. In 1976 they were posthumously published, and facsimiles of the correspondence appears in some editions of the letters.

They offer an intimate insight into the secular side of a Christian family’s celebration of the holiday (holy day). In fact, on Christmas Eve this very year, a selection from the letters was part of the Royal Carol Service, celebrated at Westminster Abbey.

The Christmas story was told in readings from Luke 2 given by The Prince of Wales and by Michael Ward. Jim Broadbent read from JRR Tolkien’s The Father Christmas Letters, and Leonie Elliot read Growing Tomorrow, a poem by Children’s Laureate Joseph Coelho commissioned specially for the service.

The following excerpt from the 1931 letter comes from the pen of Father Christmas himself. (It also features a fun notation from North Pole Bear.)

I should hardly feel it was Christmas if [the North Polar Bear] didn’t do something ridiculous. You will never guess what he did this time! I sent him down into one of my cellars – the Cracker-hole we call it – where I keep thousands of boxes of crackers (you would like to see them, rows upon rows, all with their lids off to show the kinds of colours.)

Well, I wanted 20 boxes, and was busy sorting soldiers and farm things, so I sent him; and he was so lazy he took his two Snowboys (who aren’t allowed down there) to help him. 

They started pulling crackers out of boxes, and he tried to box them (the boys’ ears I mean), and they dodged and he fell over, and let his candle fall right POOF! into my firework crackers and boxes of sparklers.

I could hear the noise, and smell the smell in the hall and when I rushed down I saw nothing but smoke and fizzing stars, and old Polar Bear was rolling over on the floor with sparks sizzling in his coat: he has quite a bare patch burnt on his back.

[NPB] It looked fine! That’s where Father Christmas spilled the gravy on my back at dinner!

The Snowboys roared with laughter and then ran away. They said it was a splendid sight – but they won’t come to my party on St. Stephen’s Day; they have had more than their share already.

The story goes on, relating the troublesome exploits of “two of the Polar Bear’s nephews” who have been visiting. However, the passage above suffices to illustrate the humor resident in the Tolkien household.

And, in light of this vignette, we just may have uncovered why modern manufacturers are forgoing the more explosive elements of Christmas crackers. No “pop,” no “poof.”

And, if you have a creative bent, consider making your own for next year!

Errors that Seem to be True (Angels)

Many people have been taught so little about biblical Truth that they believe many errors. For example, many people (and no offense intended if you are among them) mistakenly believe that when people die, they become angels.

That connection is so blatantly contrary to the fact that angels who “see the face [of God] who is in heaven” are completely different creations than the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who are actually human beings, created in the image of God.

In his preface to The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis alludes to how this confusion is reinforced by humanity’s lack of familiarity with angels in their true or natural (for them) form. While there are clear examples in the Bible where God has his angels appear in the likeness of human beings (e,g. before Sodom’s judgment and at the empty tomb), there are also times when their celestial radiance is not disguised (i.e. when the shepherds are informed about birth of the Savior or in John’s visions as recorded in the Book of Revelation).

[Angels] are given human form because man is the only rational creature we know. Creatures higher in the natural order than ourselves, either incorporeal or animating bodies of a sort we cannot experience, must be represented symbolically if they are to be represented at all (Screwtape Letters).

Nevertheless, this myth permeates the thinking of our secular culture. Once, some years past, a pastor friend was relating to me that one of his distant relatives had recently died. He said it comforted him to know that she was now an angel. I started to chuckle in response to his humorous way of lightening his own mood, until I realized he wasn’t joking. This poor, genuinely compassionate minister had been tricked by the spirit of this world into buying into a lie.

C.S. Lewis famously said that anything worth reading once is worth reading again. I’m clearing out some magazines from several years ago, and rereading insightful articles as I go. In a short piece about a complex subject, “What Happens to the Dead?” Ryan Pemberton makes a troubling comment.

Pop culture has done more to shape modern views about death than biblical teaching has.

The brevity of the article prevents the author from exploring other subjects, but his observation is applicable to a wide array of concerns.

I’m confident I could state, without fear of contradiction, that contemporary culture has done more to shape modern views about marriage than biblical teaching has. And, adding only a few additional examples, more about . . . justice . . . demons . . . love . . . mental health . . . responsibility . . . heaven . . . labor . . . creation . . . and Jesus himself.

It’s Not All Bad

It should be admitted that not all contemporary insights have been 100% misguided. One area where modern sensibilities have restored balance to truthful thinking is in the area of care for the environment. Ignoring extreme notions about nature being more important than human life, we can applaud the work of Christian environmentalists who have helped restore a biblical (i.e. true) view of the world around us.

Reacting to twisted notions that humanity’s “dominion” over the earth allows for nature’s misuse and abuse, these men and women helped open our eyes to the fact that God calls us to be trustworthy stewards in our care of, and appreciation for, this amazing world he has made.

The Inklings, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, in particular, possessed a profound love for nature. Their general antipathy to the ugly and polluting trappings of industrialization are grounded in their belief that the world God created was truly “good.” With that came the recognition that man does little to enhance, and much to undermine, that initial goodness.

When two ideas clash, go with the one that is correct. And, when one of those authorities is the Word of the Creator of all that exists, well, isn’t it obvious which is the right choice?

Angels & People

For more on the angelic subject with which we began, check out the provocatively titled “People Aren’t Downgraded to Angels When They Die.” As the author there so rightly explains,

When Christians die, heaven does not “get another angel.” We cannot become angels any more than we can become giraffes or ocean waves or stars. We are people and will remain so after this present life. God did not make a mistake when he made us human.

What is Courage?

We live in an age where our courage matters more than ever. With social, cultural and international relationships all in terrible disarray, facing the future is not for the timid.

Courage is essential for living a life of integrity. Without it, we bend and fold whenever the pressure grows too great. Some people even go so far as to compromise their conscience.

In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis described how it is only when courage is required, that a person’s true values come into focus.

Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means, at the point of highest reality.

A chastity or honesty or mercy which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. Pilate was merciful till it became risky.

Samuel Johnson, an eighteenth century English writer, was highly esteemed by C.S. Lewis. His words on this subject foreshadow Lewis’ own thoughts. “Courage,” according to Johnson, “is the greatest of all virtues, because if you haven’t courage, you may not have an opportunity to use any of the others.”

Two millennia earlier, an influential Greek philosopher described this same truth. Aristotle, who did not look to the Greek pantheon for inspiration, also deduced that courage is a necessary attribute for the virtuous.

You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor.

Examining Ourselves

As a boy, I used to imagine myself playing heroic roles. These often involved rescuing innocent people from barbarians or tyrants, often in ancient settings. As a man I shed those imaginations and pondered realities. In the military, I witnessed courage up close, and I became persuaded that Mark Twain was correct when he declared “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.”

True courage is not found in the cloying display of heroics, especially when arising from an ignorance of genuine danger. Neither is simple risk-taking an evidence of courage, since it may merely be the mark of an adrenaline junkie

I haven’t personally been confronted with many situations which required physical courage, and when I have, I’ve been tempted to feel a little like I was “pretending.” But then I recall that truly courageous men and women also need to overcome their fear.

And, I honestly suspect that even those who have done the most selfless and courageous things possible, also recognized their limits. They ventured forth because they were truly courageous, not because they lacked fear. This is precisely what happened in a garden on Jerusalem’s Mount of Olives called Gethsemane.

Although encounters with physical dangers have been rare, my courage has been tested numerous times in the service of maintaining my integrity. I can recall a number of academic, professional, and personal occasions where standing for truth came at a very real cost. And, who knows how many times to which we are oblivious, that enemies have wished (and worked) us ill, because we did not surrender to their coercive manipulations.

Happy are those – I am sure Lewis, Johnson, Aristotle and Twain, would agree – who do not compromise their convictions. It appears that courage is a matter of character, not of the moment.

Two uplifting insights provide a fitting end to our meditation on this subject. While the courageous sometimes feel like they stand alone, Billy Graham reminds us of an encouraging fact.

Courage is contagious. When a brave man [or woman] takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened.

And, C.S. Lewis’ dear friend J.R.R. Tolkien provides us with another keen observation. In The Fellowship of the Rings, an elf named Gildor protects the hobbits at the outset of their journey, and observes, “courage is found in unlikely places.” Indeed, it is.

It may even be found in us.

A More Peaceful Time

It seems like a dream, when I recall a college course I took where Jews and Muslims peacefully discussed the turbulent history of the Middle East. And how we discussed that sad story in a cordial, and even sympathetic, manner.

The contrast between that day and 2023 – when people cannot even agree that tiny infants should not suffer for the sins of their parents – is mind-bending.

We assume that all people desire peace. Would that it were so. In his essay “First and Second Things,” C.S. Lewis offers a timely insight.

As far as peace (which is one ingredient in our idea of civilization) is concerned, I think many would now agree that a foreign policy dominated by desire for peace is one of the many roads that lead to war.

I was an undergrad at the University of Washington in the mid-1970s, when I saw a graduate level course with a fascinating title: “Wars that have Shaped the History of the Middle East.” My high school friend and I “begged” the professor to allow us into the class. He cautioned us that he would have the same requirements for us as he did for everyone else; there would be no mercy extended if we failed to meet the syllabus’ demands.

“No problem,” we said . . . although, being young procrastinators, at the end of the quarter we foolishly required a couple of all-nighters to complete our comprehensive term papers.

We, both Christians, were the only undergraduates in the small class. Our professor was Jewish, as were two of the students. One of these, was Israeli. He was, in fact, a veteran of the recent Yom Kippur War, during which he had served as the commander of a tank. I don’t recall which front on which he fought, but when you look at a map of Israel, it’s clear that every part of that small nation is a potential combat zone.

The remaining members of the class consisted of three Muslim students. One was American and a second was Iranian (back when the Shah was still in power). The third Islamic member of the class taught at a Seattle community college. He was Palestinian. And not merely Palestinian – his family was displaced during the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, which is referred to by the Israelis as the War of Independence.

You can imagine that with a group like that, opinions were deeply entrenched. Yet, although the preexisting opinions were indeed fixed, the individuals were not obstinate. Conversations were civil. Disagreements were conducted with reason rather than emotion. And, most surprisingly of all, we were able to socialize together at the end of the course.

It was a different world, apparently. It’s challenging to conceive of partisans today being capable of treating others with such respect. The last half century has marked a steep decline in the humanity of humanity.

Anti-Semitism is a Curse

It is strange to ponder how we’ve come to define antisemitism, confining it to anti-Jewish sentiment. After all, the word Semite refers to all people who speak a Semitic language, including Arabs.

Etymologically, Semite “comes via Latin from Greek Sēm ‘Shem,’ son of Noah in the Bible, from whom these people were traditionally supposed to be descended.”

If you are interested in an excellent article titled “C.S. Lewis’s Anti-Anti-Semitism in The Great Divorce,” simply follow the link embedded here.

Israel’s Wars

There has been no shortage of blood shed on the land the Romans called Judea and Arabia Petraea. And the history of the past seventy-five years have been violent indeed. For a description of all of the wars and military operations involving Israel, see this website.

We students each had to select one of the Middle Eastern regional wars to research in depth. We also had to make a detailed presentation and lead the discussion based on general readings completed by everyone.

As soon as I saw that requirement in the syllabus, my mind was mired in confusion over which of Israel’s wars would be the least controversial. Fortunately, as I read further I discovered that the purview of the course did not begin with the end of the Palestine Mandate, which was administered by Britain. Due to the influence of the Ottoman Empire, which had overshadowed the region until the end of the First World War, the professor elected to begin the course with the relatively nonconfrontational consideration of the Crimean War. I was the first student to raise my hand and voice my preference.

During the Palestine Mandate, C.S. Lewis had a number of former students serving in the Levant. In a 1940 letter to his brother Warnie, he describes a pleasant visit from one of these who went on to serve in a political capacity throughout the region for several more decades. This statesman refers to a fellow student who would go on to teach at East Anglia University.

I had a visit one night last week from Pirie-Gordon back from leave from Palestine, where (and in Egypt and Turkey) he says everything is “as good as gold.” The last riot was quelled by the cavalry regiment in which Rivière serves . . . In fact as P.G. said “I raised the riot and Rivière quelled it.”

I wonder how the members of the class would relate to one another if we were reunited for a discussion of what has transpired since 1975. With members of the American government at each other’s throats on our nation’s response to Hamas’ war, I doubt our discussions would be as respectful as they were back in the twentieth century. Still, conversations – even painful ones – need to happen if people are ever to get along with one another. That’s true not only for nations, but also for neighbors, and families.

I recommend two things to move us in the right direction. Honest communication, where we do a lot of listening. And prayer. The fact we do so poorly with the first, makes the second all that more essential.

Theological Humor

Pope Francis jokes with a newlywed couple in Rome.

Don’t be surprised, but many clergy possess keen senses of humor. Sure, there are staid, grimacing ministers who consider acting dour to be a virtue. (They’re often legalistic.) But most of the pastors and military chaplains I’ve worked beside, love to laugh. I think I’ve written enough about humor to verify that.

C.S. Lewis maintained strong bonds with a number of clergy, from a variety of denominations, and that would hardly have been true if they had lacked a sense of humor. Humor, to Lewis, is an essential part of life. He proclaims this truth from the lips of Aslan himself, as the newly created Talking Animals hear the first (accidental) joke.

“Laugh and fear not, creatures. Now that you are no longer dumb and witless, you need not always be grave. For jokes as well as justice come in with speech.” (The Magician’s Nephew)

I recently read about a fascinating incident one historian described as “perhaps the only really satisfactory practical joke in the whole history of theology.” Allow me to set the scene.

The Byzantine Empire lasted for a thousand years, before being defeated and desecrated* by Islamic armies. During the centuries surrounding its apex, it suffered from the political intrigue and competition with which we are all too familiar.

Photios I was a Byzantine scholar who was twice the Patriarch of Constantinople during the ninth century. Twice is unusual, but it was due to the machinations of emperors and empresses who meddled in the affairs of the church.

He had a troubled relationship with another priest named Ignatius, who also served two times as Patriarch. The good news is that the men were eventually reconciled and both are regarded by Orthodox Christians as saints.

The anecdote comes from the period of their rivalry. Photios, whose brilliance was widely acknowledged, and presumably envied by Ignatius, decided to pull an embarrassing public prank on his nemesis.

Photios devised a bizarre theory that human beings have two souls. His goal was to trick Ignatius into taking it seriously, whereupon Photius withdrew the thesis and admitted he had not been serious. Apparently, everyone unsatisfied with Ignatius’ leadership found it quite entertaining.

Fortunately, among clergy the humiliation of others is rarely the object of humor. Yet, sadly, I have seen it attempted. I personally repent of ever having done so myself, and regard it as sharing, along with vulgarity and blasphemy, the lowest level of “humor.” 

The Wisdom of Lewis

In Reflections on the Psalms, C.S. Lewis relates something I know to be true from my own experience.

A little comic relief in a discussion does no harm, however serious the topic may be. (In my own experience the funniest things have occurred in the gravest and most sincere conversations.) 

Clergy deal with serious topics, like death, quite frequently. Perhaps that is one reason a well-developed sense of humor is common among their ranks.


Skip this footnote if you want to end on a “happy” note.

* “Desecration” may sound like a harsh word to our interfaith-sensitive ears, but it is accurate here. Islam is rarely a gentle master for Christians, and it has been common to see churches and holy places seized and converted to foreign religious uses. For example, in the capital Constantinople (now called Istanbul), Orthodox Christianity’s most magnificent church, Hagia Sophia, saw much of its glorious and historic iconography destroyed when it was converted to a mosque. Many years later, in 1934, an enlightened Turkish government ended the insult, and chose to treat the holy place as a museum. Sadly, the current regressive government under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, reversed that decision, and in 2020 the Church of Holy Wisdom was returned to its usage as a mosque.