By Jason Smith

C. S. Lewis was born 121 years ago this Friday, November 29, 2019. I am one of many who can say that his writings have profoundly affected my life — even from childhood. I can still vividly recall my mom reading his classic series, The Chronicles of Narnia, to my brother and me as a child. Later in life, books like Mere Christianity and essays like The Weight of Glory left an indelible mark on my life. I have read and heard countless testimonies of men and women who note that his writings were instrumental in leading them to consider seriously the claims of Christ. In light of all that this Irish man has contributed to the cause of Christ and the world of literature in general, I thought it would be fitting to write a tribute in his honor.  

The Making of an Imagination

First, let me offer a brief biography of the man. Clive Staples Lewis was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in 1898. Lewis’s mother died when he was only ten years old, and the experience left a deep impression on him. As a result, the young Lewis felt a deep sense of longing for what could have been. Lewis would later describe this deep sense of longing for a better world simply as joy.

In 1917, Lewis enlisted in the British Army and was commissioned as an officer during World War I. Although his war experiences dramatically shaped him as a man, he deliberately strove to forget them. In fact, he devotes very little space to his time in the Great War in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy. But with all the horrors and life-changing trauma that war inevitably brings, why recount so little of the experience? Lewis biographer Alister McGrath answers, “The simplest explanation is also the most plausible: Lewis could not bear to remember the trauma of his wartime experiences, whose irrationality called into question whether there was any meaning in the universe at large or in Lewis’s personal existence in particular.”[1] This is all the more fascinating when one considers that Lewis was no pacifist. Later in life, Lewis defended his own brand of just war theory, concluding that in certain unfortunate circumstances, war is inevitable but always grievous.[2]

After the war, Lewis finished his schooling at Oxford, and eventually became an Oxford don. It is worth noting that while Lewis had a very tense relationship with his father, it was also likely his father’s death that spurred him out of his youthful atheism to reflect on spiritual realities.[3] While at Oxford, Lewis began his well-known friendship with J. R. R. Tolkien, the author of The Lord of the Rings.[4] In fact, the two mutually benefited from one another in incredible ways. When Tolkien grew discouraged about ever finishing his great fantasy epic, Lewis encouraged him to see it through, something for which I am immeasurably grateful. Furthermore, it was Tolkien who proved instrumental in Lewis’s conversion to Christ.[5]

Lewis saw hints of the Christian story in nearly all the old pagan myths from various cultures throughout history. This initially bothered him — was Christianity just borrowing the grand themes of sacrifice and redemption from the pagans? However, Tolkien helped him to see that these other myths merely accentuated the innate longings we all have that Christ alone fulfills. Therefore, Christianity is what Lewis called the “true myth” because it alone truly happened in our space-time world and can satisfy the heart’s deepest longings.[6]

McGrath calls Lewis an “eccentric genius”[7] because he was an unusual blend of a clear-thinking, rational philosopher and an imaginative lover of fables and ancient myths. Although he was a first-rank Oxford scholar and professor, he took some flak from many of his peers for his willingness to write popular works of fiction and Christian apologetics.[8]

Lewis is perhaps best known for his classic The Chronicles of Narnia, a fantasy series aimed at children and filled with Christian themes. He wrote many other fictional works, such as The Screwtape Letters and The Great Divorce. However, the bulk of Lewis’s published writings can be classified as works of theology, ethics, and Christian apologetics. His best known apologetic work, Mere Christianity, is written with a skeptical British audience in mind. In the first part of the short book, Lewis makes a case for Christianity, and in the second part he explains what he believes are the chief issues related to living a faithful Christian life.

Late in life, Lewis met Joy Davidman, a woman who so enchanted him that he ended up marrying her with the purpose of conferring her British citizenship in order for her to avoid deportation.[9] To Lewis’s great dismay, after only being married for about four years, their blossoming romance came to an end. Joy died as a victim of cancer, the same disease that had claimed Lewis’s mother so many years before. In November 1963, Lewis himself was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure and ended up dying in his own home, a week before his 65^th birthday.[10]

A Man for All Ages

Part of what makes Lewis still popular in evangelical circles today is his ability to convincingly demonstrate how Christianity makes sense of our world. “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen, not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”[11] His arguments powerfully show how Christianity rings true when we are willing to carefully examine the claims. Thus, his writings have proven instrumental in bringing many skeptics to faith over the last half century.

Throughout his writings, Lewis expresses his deep suspicion of the new and flashy brands of theology. Ideas that try to be trendy often overshadow that which is tried and true. “Novelty, simply as such, can have only an entertainment value.”[12] Just because something entertains, suggests Lewis, does not mean it is either helpful or true. That is a good word for us to heed in our entertainment-driven culture.

For Lewis, Christianity is not merely a matter of private devotion but a public issue, because it encompasses our entire outlook on life. Lewis came to see that atheism simply could not account for our world. Universal moral principles that we all share make little sense if we are merely the product of our genes. In Mere Christianity, Lewis argues that we are all aware of a natural law of human behavior, a sense of justice that we cannot ignore.[13] Since we all recognize this inner law, there must be an authority higher than humankind to whom we all are accountable. Only God could be the great Author of the moral law we all find within ourselves.

The “true myth” of Christianity is about the great Author entering into His world in order to work out our redemption and restoration. Lewis likens the incarnation of the Son of God to Shakespeare writing himself into one of his plays. “Shakespeare could, in principle, make himself appear as Author within the play, and write a dialogue between Hamlet and himself. The ‘Shakespeare’ within the play would of course be at once Shakespeare and one of Shakespeare’s creatures. It would bear some analogy to Incarnation.”[14] In fact, Lewis seemed to do just this when you consider to whom the professor (Digory Kirke) bears a striking resemblance in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

In his essay Is Theology Poetry?, Lewis explains his view that theology must by nature include metaphor since we are speaking about a God that we can’t see, taste, or smell.[15] What theologians are trying to do, he explains, is draw a map charting a vast land that has not been exhaustively explored. And theology — this is important — is always meant to lead us to God, never to replace God. “Doctrines are not God: they are only a kind of map.”[16] This is a powerful reminder for every student of theology. Ultimately, our studies should lead us to worship and love our Lord and Savior — and they certainly can help in that endeavor. However, we must also be content in what God has revealed to us and not go beyond what Scripture has told us about Him. Even if we were granted 1,000 years to study theology, we’d only be scratching the surface of God’s infinite depths. “Oh, the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” (Romans 11:33).

At one point in his Letters to Malcolm, Lewis scolds his fictional friend Malcolm for criticizing a woman named Rose Macaulay for reciting prayers written by others rather than composing her own. Apparently, such a practice lacked personal devotion to God in the eyes of Malcolm. Lewis defends Miss Macaulay and playfully calls Malcolm “a bigot”. He then movingly points out that we should not expect every Christian to worship in the same way. “If grace perfects nature it must expand all our natures into the full richness of the diversity which God intended when He made them, and heaven will display more variety than hell.”[17] Prayer, Lewis recognizes, is often very difficult for the believer. This is an indication that we are not yet perfect. “If we were perfected, prayer would not be a duty, it would be delight. Some day, please God, it will be. The same is true of many other behaviours which now appear as duties. If I loved my neighbor as myself, most of the actions which are now my moral duty would flow out of me as spontaneously as song from a lark or fragrance from a flower.”[18] According to Lewis, theology helps us recognize just how great and generous God is, and prayer leads us to respond accordingly.

Lewis recognizes that Christianity offers an understanding of life beyond the grave that is shot through with infinitely more hope than all its competitors. Believers are promised rewards — an “eternal weight of glory” (2 Corinthians 4:17) — far beyond compare with whatever small joys we may find in this life.[19] In looking forward to our ultimate reconciliation with God, Lewis seems nearly incapable of containing his joy. “To please God … to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness … to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an artist delights in his work or a son — it seems impossible, a weight or burden of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.”[20]

Scripture speaks of a God of immeasurable grace who has chosen rebel sinners, sacrificed His only Son for their redemption, secured them with the seal of His Holy Spirit, and bestowed on them His fatherly love. As redeemed and adopted sons and daughters, our Father sings over us in delight — despite the fact that we have not earned this blessing (see Psalm 149:4; Zephaniah 3:17). It’s all by grace! One day we will see this clearly when we see God as He truly is. “No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads” (Revelation 22:3-4). Lewis reminds us how much the church needs this biblically induced, captivating vision of heaven today. Are we still longing for heaven as Lewis did, or have we become ensnared by the worthless pursuits attached to this lost world (see 2 Timothy 4:10; James 4:4; 1 John 2:15)?

Lewis despised liberal theologies that strive to downplay the miraculous core of Christianity. He saw them as not only caving in to secular ideologies but also offering no hope to a world filled with death and suffering. While giving advice to prospective defenders of the faith, Lewis wrote, “Do not attempt to water Christianity down. There must be no pretence that you can have it with the Supernatural left out. So far as I can see Christianity is precisely the one religion from which the miraculous cannot be separated. You must frankly argue for supernaturalism from the very outset.”[21] The Gospel that saves is the very power of God, and we should never be ashamed of it (Romans 1:16).

Some Respectful Disagreements

I have been profoundly blessed by Lewis. His ability to integrate reason, Christian principles, and imaginative thinking is astonishing. For all his incredible gifts, however, there are areas in his writings where I found myself strongly disagreeing with Lewis. I should clarify that while I disagree with Lewis in these areas, I nevertheless respect and admire him as a theologian and apologist. We all have our blind spots, and Lewis has significantly helped several generations of Christian thinkers who have attempted to communicate the gospel to the secular world in a winsome and engaging way.

The three areas, in particular, where I disagree with Lewis include his views on the atonement, Purgatory, and total depravity. I do not believe in Purgatory. The reason is simple: I can’t find support for it in Scripture. I don’t believe the Bible teaches it explicitly or even allows for it implicitly. For example, in Jesus’s parable of the rich man and Lazarus, Abraham tells the rich man in Hades, “Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us” (Luke 16:25-26).[22] According to Jesus, each person is headed for one of only two fixed and eternal destinies, not a third, temporary one (see Hebrews 9:27). When it comes to the doctrines of the atonement and total depravity, however, I suspect that my disagreement with Lewis has more to do with his description of these beliefs than his actual position.

Lewis says that prior to coming to faith, he viewed the idea that Christ needed to suffer on the cross in our place as “immoral and silly.”[23] While he doesn’t say that he still holds this view, he doesn’t seem to give penal substitution much weight. He simply suggests that we focus on the fact that Christ’s blood has somehow washed away our sins and not bicker about how He has done so. While I appreciate Lewis’s ecumenical spirit, I’m also troubled by his glib approach to the atonement when he says we can feel free to “drop” whatever doesn’t work for us.[24] Frankly, I would rather go with the scriptural understanding than a pragmatic understanding of the atonement. And, I believe it does matter that we understand Jesus’ death in a penal, sin-bearing sense, as Scripture clearly explains (see Romans 3:21-26; Hebrews 2:17; 9:11-14, 25-28; 1 John 2:2; 4:10). This understanding of what Jesus accomplished on the cross ties directly to Purgatory. If Jesus truly suffered once for all for all our sins — as I believe He did — what purpose would Purgatory serve? “And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him [Jesus], having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross” (Colossians 2:13-14).

However, I have to add that I do see Lewis conveying some kind of substitutionary view of the atonement in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Edmund is a traitor, and the “Deep Magic” of Narnia demands that a traitor be given the ultimate punishment. Aslan the lion, the Christ figure, wants to save Edmund, but he cannot deny the moral demands of the law his own father, the Emperor, wrote. So what does the great lion do? He dies in the place of Edmund, bearing the punishment that the young traitor deserves. This is an unmistakable allegory of what happened at the cross of Christ. Therefore, in the end, I think Lewis did hold to a substitutionary view, even if there were certain caricatures of the atonement that he clearly rejected.  

Similarly, I think that Lewis downplays the Bible’s teaching on man’s total depravity. At times, however, he seems to misunderstand the doctrine by implying that man’s ability to carry out good and generous acts rules it out. The doctrine, however, is not that we are incapable of anything good, like dying in someone else’s place for example (Romans 5:7). Rather, it is that we are so thoroughly fallen that every aspect of our being has been touched by sin (see Romans 3:23; Ephesians 2:1-3).

While some have questioned whether or not Lewis truly believed in Purgatory, despite the clear allusions we have of it in The Great Divorce, at least by the time he wrote Letters to Malcom his mind seems made up on this matter. When addressing the question of whether or not a Christian should pray for the dead, he states, “I believe in Purgatory.”[25] While dismissing various caricatures of the doctrine as a place of “retributive punishment” rather than “purification,” he seems to hold to a type of Purgatory that even believers like himself will experience. Some may argue that Lewis is only speaking of the believer’s translation to glory where he or she will be utterly free of sin. I doubt that, however, because Lewis addresses this subject in the context of what the dead now experience and why we ought to pray for them.

Lewis as a Spiritual Mentor

Despite my few disagreements with Lewis, I cannot help but reiterate the way he has molded much of the way I approach theology, ethics, and apologetics. His winsome demeanor and beautiful prose make his writings a joy to read and contemplate. There have been numerous occasions while reading him that I find him articulating something I’d felt, but struggled to put into words. 

For instance, when explaining why he believes that the material world simply cannot be all there is, Lewis points to the spiritual hunger common to all of us. Many have called this Lewis’s argument from desire. “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”[26]

As we have seen, Lewis unabashedly believed in the supernatural realm. It is encouraging to know that Lewis, an academic, refused to cave in to the materialistic culture he indwelled. In fact, despite a growing vehemence to the doctrine of hell in the Britain of his day, Lewis staunchly held his ground declaring that Christ Himself clearly taught the reality of hell. In The Problem of Pain, he writes of hell, “There is no doctrine which I would more willingly remove from Christianity than this, if it lay in my power. But it has the full support of Scripture and, specially, of our Lord’s own words; it has always been held by Christendom; and it has the support of reason.”[27]

The underlying redemptive theme of Lewis’s theology could be expressed in this way: We are broken sinners who need to be remade by God. The way, however, in which this restoration of our true selves is accomplished is only through union with Christ by faith. As we come more into the presence of Christ, the more we are refashioned into what we were always intended to be.[28] Because Lewis views himself as just another pilgrim on the way to the glory we are destined for, he is very approachable as a spiritual mentor.[29] Time and time again, Lewis identifies himself as one who struggles in the very area he is proposing a solution.

In Lewis’s understanding, humankind’s fundamental problem is not merely rejection of God, but replacement of God with self. The only cure for our inherited self-centeredness is self-surrender to God. “The principle runs through all life from top to bottom. Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it.”[30] In this way, we open ourselves up to God, who alone can transform us by His grace.

Lewis draws our attention to why prayer is the only right response to a theistic reality: God is never far from the believer. “We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito.”[31] Therefore, regular prayer is a must for the Christ-follower, because it is in prayer that we are acknowledging His ever-present nearness.

As our mentor, Lewis reminds us again and again that our enemy, Satan, seeks to obscure all thought of eternity and the supernatural. Throughout his writings, Lewis is continually trying to tear open the veil of modern secularism to reveal the supernatural world that has always been there. In works like The Screwtape Letters, Lewis reminds us that there are unseen forces continually at play in our lives.

The modern mind attempts to do away with all things supernatural and reduce all sense experience to what we can quantify in the laboratory. Yet Lewis repeatedly reminds us that the spiritual world is no less real than the scientific. We must never forget that we have an enemy seeking to muddle our view of the world. Satan is both a deceiver and a strategist, desperately striving to bring us down. “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). In fact, Satan would have us deny his reality if it meant we would also deny God’s existence. He is perfectly content to be unknown rather than worshiped if that means God receives no glory. Like the apostle Paul, Lewis argues that when we know we have an enemy we want to take up the armor of God every day (see Ephesians 6:10-18). For example, the modern believer might be tempted to assume that his anxiety is the result of a chemical imbalance rather than consider that Satan is assaulting him with troubling thoughts.

Forgiveness is an essential component to Lewis’s view of the Christian life. However, he does not adopt a “Pollyanna” kind of perspective here. He recognizes that for those who have been deeply wounded by the sin of another, forgiveness is both difficult and painful. In his Letters to Malcolm, he gives his friend the “good news” that, after thirty years of attempting to do so, he has finally managed to forgive someone who wronged him. Lewis delights in the fact that — “even in dry old age” — he has managed to let go of resentment. He gives us hope that we are all works in progress and that even a deeply ingrained “evil habit” can be “whisked away” by our Lord, whom he calls “the great Resolver.” [32] It’s a beautiful picture to see that even the wise Lewis still had the humility in his later years to discover anew the joy of forgiveness.

In one essay, Lewis identifies a common misunderstanding that Christians have concerning forgiveness — particularly, the forgiveness we receive from God. He writes, “I find that when I am asking God to forgive me I am often in reality (unless I watch myself very carefully) asking Him to do something quite different. I am asking Him not to forgive me but to excuse me. But there is all the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing.” Lewis goes on to explain that when we try to excuse our sin, we are actually hindering ourselves from receiving true forgiveness — the very thing we, as sinners, most need. Like a patient who comes to the doctor presenting his true ailment in order that he may be truly healed, Lewis says, we must come to God ready to confess our sin openly rather than attempt to paper over it with excuses. I find his perspective to be immensely helpful for myself personally and for the way I disciple others. This is such a central issue for how one relates to God, and it delves into the vital question of whether or not we truly believe that God forgives even the worst of sins.

Conclusion

I hope that this tribute to Lewis has merely whetted your appetite. I encourage you to read his writings. Don’t believe those who tell you that he is too hard to understand. In fact, he writes in a very understandable and friendly manner. If nothing else, you ought to read The Chronicles of Narnia. I assure you — they aren’t just for children!

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[1] Alister McGrath, C. S. Lewis — A Life: Eccentric Genius, Reluctant Prophet (Colorado Springs, CO: Tyndale House Publishers, 2013), 50.

[2] C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory And Other Addresses (New York: HarperCollins, 1949, 1980), 64-90. I should note that in his essay “Why I Am not a Pacifist”, he seems to be more concerned with rebutting faulty arguments pitched by pacifists than with promoting a just war theory, but the former easily leads him to the latter. Elsewhere, Lewis makes it clear that war is an outrageous evil, directly resulting from our estrangement from God. See C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperCollins, 1952), 49.

[3] McGrath, C. S. Lewis — A Life, 121-123.

[4] Ibid, 127-130.

[5] Ibid, 130.

[6] Quoted in Colin Duriez C. S. Lewis: A Biography of Friendship (Oxford: Lion Books, 2013), 130.

[7] McGrath, C. S. Lewis — A Life: Eccentric Genius, Reluctant Prophet.

[8] Ibid, xii.

[9] Ibid, 329-332.

[10] Ibid, 358.

[11] Lewis, The Weight of Glory, 92.

[12] C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, Chiefly on Prayer (New York: HarperCollins, 1964, 2017), 1.

[13] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 3-34.

[14] C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955), 227.

[15] Lewis, “Is Theology Poetry?,” in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses, 134.

[16] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 154.

[17] Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, 10.

[18] Ibid, 114-115.

[19] Lewis, The Weight of Glory, 26.

[20] Ibid, 39.

[21] C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock, “Christian Apologetics” (New York: HarperCollins, 1945), 99.

[22] Also see Daniel 12:1-2; Matthew 25:31-46; John 3:36; 5:28-29; Hebrews 9:27-28; Revelation 14:9-11; 20:11-15.

[23] Joe Rigney, Lewis on the Christian Life (Wheaton: Crossway, 2018), 52.

[24] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 59.

[25] Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, 144.

[26] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 136.

[27] C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (New York: Macmillan, 1962), 118.

[28] Joe Rigney was helpful in coming to this understanding of Lewis’s theology in Joe Rigney, Lewis on the Christian Life.

[29] For example, Lewis writes, “The truth is, I haven’t any language weak enough to depict the weakness of my spiritual life.” Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, 151.

[30] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 226.

[31] Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, 75.

[32] Ibid, 143.