C. S. Lewis: Mere Christianity

This is the first of my reflection posts on my C. S. Lewis reading for J-Term. If you’re not interested in my thoughts on C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity, go in peace.

Originally a series of radio talks given in Britain during 1942, Mere Christianity is Lewis’ attempt to explain the basics of Christianity to non-Christians. I find the idea that England in 1942 considered itself “part of a ‘post-Christian’ world,” and that Lewis believed that England “had never in fact been told in basic terms what the religion is about” (Kathleen Norris, Foreword to Mere Christianity, xix) to be interesting. I’ve been told that 40% of Americans surveyed list their religion as “None”; apparently this is not new, and not confined to America. Still, as a 21st-century American, I live in a nation which presumes that everyone knows at least the basic facts about Christianity, whether or not they consider themselves believers. Call me historically unaware, but I am surprised that citizens of a country whose monarch was and is the “Defender of the Faith” needed to have the basics of Christianity explained to them.

Lewis makes it clear that, although a layman in the Church of England, he is attempting to lay out only those things common to all denominations of Christianity (as he understood such, at any rate). He is not trying to espouse a particular denominational point of view, nor is he attempting to weigh in on any of the major theological questions. This, combined with Lewis’ clear and polished–yet seemingly effortless–writing, makes the book a wonderful ‘primer’ on Christianity. To me, however, the most interesting portion of the book is Book One, where Lewis attempts to logically establish the existence of God.

Lewis’ argument runs as follows: people constantly complain that the behavior of others is unfair, that it does not meet some sort of understood Standard for human behavior. More often than not, the others will respond, not by disavowing the Standard, but by attempting to prove that their behavior really does fall within it. This Standard, then, is something universally acknowledged, even if the details are not always agreed upon. No matter what you call it–the Law of Right and Wrong, the Rule of Decent Behavior, or Moral Law–if all people understand it to exist, then it must come from somewhere other than human invention, there must be a Power behind the law. Slowly, building his argument and answering potential objections as he goes, Lewis moves toward the postulate that this Power behind the law is God. And not just any God, but the Christian God, who made the world and wants it to work a certain way, which humans call “good” and which is expressed in the Law of Right and Wrong. In summarizing his position, Lewis recapitulates the reasoning that brought him from atheism to Christianity as an adult convert himself:

“And, of course, that raises a very big question. If a good God made the world why has it gone wrong? And for many years I simply refused to listen to the Christian answers to this question, because I kept on feeling ‘whatever you say, and however clever your arguments are, isn’t it much simpler and easier to say that the world was not made by any intelligent power? Aren’t all your arguments simply a complicated attempt to avoid the obvious?’ But then that threw me back into another difficulty.

“My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? … Of course I could have given up my idea of justice by saying it was nothing but a private idea of my own. But if I did that, then my argument against God collapsed too–for the argument depended on saying that the world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my fancies. Thus in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist–in other words, that the whole of reality as senseless–I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality–namely my idea of justice–was full of sense. Consequently atheism turns out to be too simple.” (Mere Christianity, 38-39)*

Whenever I examine attempts to establish the existence of God via reason and deduction, I use the following lens: What would I have made of this at age 25, when I was an adamant Secular Humanist and claimed that “I don’t need the concept of God to explain the universe to my satisfaction”? At that age, I staunchly rejected claims that morality could come only from God, feeling that humans had learned over the centuries what people should and shouldn’t do in order to live together as peacefully as possible, and that ‘God’ was invoked merely to back up enforcement of sanctions for breaking the rules. Lewis acknowledges and answers objections such as mine as he builds his argument. I suspect that my cocksure ignorance would not have allowed me to recognize the truth of Lewis’ arguments, but I think I would have had a hard time countering them. Lewis’ examples are so clean, simple, and basic, his illustrations so straightforward and compelling, his writing so lucid, that it is hard to dismiss him rationally. Lewis’ greatness as a Christian apologist lies, I feel, in his statement that “it is not reason that is taking away my faith: on the contrary, my faith is based on reason.” (139)

Having rejected atheism, Lewis lays out what it means to believe that Christ is God incarnate who died to save us from our sins. With particular emphasis on how accepting Christianity should alter a person’s behavior, Lewis examines the cardinal virtues (Prudence, Temperance, Justice, and Fortitude), social morality, sexual morality, marriage, forgiveness, charity, hope, and faith. Although he occasionally states things which cause me to wonder–Did Moses really forbid usury for all, or only when lending to a member of the tribe? (85) Does the Lord’s prayer really make it “perfectly clear that if we do not forgive we shall not be forgiven”? (116)–I find Christianity as explained by Lewis to be inspiring. I particularly like the gems of common sense found throughout the book. Some examples:

“We do know that no man can be saved except through Christ;we do not know that only those who know Him can be saved through Him.” (64)

“There ought to be two distinct kinds of marriage: one governed by the State with rules enforced on all citizens, the other governed by the Church with rules enforced by her on her own members.” (112)

“In fact, if you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, ‘How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronise me, or show off?” (122. This one particularly stings.)

“The rule for all of us is particularly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you did.” (131)

“Christians have often disputed as to whether what leads the Christian home is good actions, or Faith in Christ. I have no right really to speak on such a difficult question, but it does seem to me like asking which blade in a pair of scissors is most necessary.” (148)

Finally, Lewis spends some time discussing the Doctrine of the Trinity. To do so, he, an educated and intellectual layman, gives his views on Theology, calling it “practical: especially now. In the old days, when there was less education and discussion, perhaps it was possible to get on with a few very simple ideas about God. But it is not so now. Everyone reads, everyone hears things discussed. Consequently, if you do not listen to Theology, that will not mean that you have no ideas about God. It will mean that you have a lot of wrong ones–bad, muddled, out-of-date ideas. For a great many of the ideas about God which are trotted out as novelties today are simply the ones which real Theologians tried centuries ago and rejected” (155). As someone who has temporarily made Theology the focal point of his life, I find this very comforting.

*All quotations are taken from Lewis, C. S., Mere Christianity, New York: HarperOne, 2001.

J-Term

Happy New Year, everyone. I hope you had a wonderful Advent and a joyous Christmas. What with the end of fall semester in mid-December and then finishing all the delayed preparations for Christmas, I was having a hard time feeling the spirit of the season this year. Then, on Christmas Eve, we went to our daughter’s Sunday School Christmas program at St. John’s Lutheran in St. Donatus, IA. It was a joyous and joy-full presentation, with good music, fun choreography, and enjoyable performances by all involved. I came away lighter in heart, bouncier in spirit, and finally ready for the coming of our Lord. Just in time.

I survived fall semester, and actually did quite well. The uncertainty I was experiencing at the end of the term made me decide for certain to get off of the paper chase treadmill and take all of my classes as Credit/No Credit from now on (see this post for further details). Now that Christmas break is over, we are in that glorious interval known as J-Term: four weeks, one class, choose one of the prepared options or build your own. Many people travel for their J-Term class, in order to fulfill the Wartburg cross-cultural immersion requirement. I have (or soon will have) classmates in the Holy Land, Iceland, France, Guyana, both North and South Dakota, Texas, and other places. Others stay on campus to take a class offered at Wartburg. And some folks design an independent study.

I’m in the last group. Tami is in Gettysburg, PA, for the Diaconal Ministry Formation Event, required of everyone getting an MA in Diaconal Ministry. You are strongly encouraged to attend during J-Term of your first year, so Tami did. With our daughter in school, that leaves me committed to being here and being Dad, so I designed an independent study. The idea came to me in September, when I (once again) saw the C. S. Lewis books on the bookshelf in my office and lamented not having time to read them. Suddenly I just thought “January,” and a J-Term class was born. I found a professor willing to sponsor and evaluate what I do, and I was set.

I will be reading and reflecting on the following books by C. S. Lewis:

• Mere Christianity
• The Problem of Pain
• The Great Divorce
• A Grief Observed

If time permits and I have the inclination, I can add other works to the list. My reflections will take the form of posts on this very blog, at least one post per book. I will put “C. S. Lewis” in the title of the posts, so if you are not interested you can just skip them. Otherwise, I hope you’ll join me in my reflections, and I also hope that perhaps you’ll be inspired to read some C. S. Lewis yourself. He is one of the more readable authors you’ll find, and really knew how to turn a phrase.

Grades

I’ve gotten grades on things in several of my classes now, and it’s gotten me thinking about grades in general. Grades are optional here at Wartburg, in the sense that any class can be taken credit/no credit instead of for a grade. Sounds great, right? Why take any class for a grade when you could take it pass/fail?

I guess it depends on what motivates you. Some people get so stressed about grades that the only way they can survive is to take everything credit/no credit. I thought about that, but I know myself well enough that I figured I’ll work harder if a class is being graded. I still think it’s true, but I’m rethinking my options for next semester, for a couple of reasons.

The first reason is a need to find balance. I told myself that the actual grades wouldn’t matter so long as I knew I was doing my best, trusting that my natural instincts to do well would make that happen. That led to a lot of stress before I started getting my first grades back. Now that I know I’m doing well in my graded classes things have gotten a little better, but the temptation to overwork every assignment is still there. The temptation is there even in my credit/no credit classes just because I get into that mindset.

The second reason is even less healthy. Grades allow ranking, and my competitive streak always wants to know how I’m doing relative to my classmates. This is not good at all. It’s not that I only feel good if I’m getting the best grade, or that I don’t want my classmates to do well. But sometimes I start worrying more about how someone else is doing in a class, or did on a particular assignment, than I do about getting my assignments done to the best of my ability. That is a real problem. I want to be able to celebrate when anyone does well, not wonder why I didn’t do as well. I don’t want to find myself wondering all the time how someone else did. I want to do my work in a steady and unthreatened manner, and not feel like I’m being measured against someone else all the time.

It’s not an easy decision to make. When I was younger, sometimes I felt like good grades were the only, or at least the primary, thing that defined me, and it goes against my nature to relinquish that, even if it’s no longer true. And I do worry that I’ll start to slack off if everything is credit/no credit. (I’ll pause here for derisive snorts from the crowd.) There are other factors to consider as well, even if they seem lesser at the moment.

With less than three weeks to go in the semester, I have a good idea of where I stand in every class, so I hope I can finish all my work without worrying about grades. Then I have a month-and-a-half to decide what I’m going to do next semester. I’ll probably hem and haw until the last possible moment, so stay tuned. In the meantime, may your holiday season be Grade A.

The Only Way Out Is Through

It’s that time of the semester: there’s always something to do, and there’s always something due. I figured out the other day that I need to write one paper per week for the rest of the semester. If I don’t, I’ll have at least one week where I have to write two, and that way lies madness.

I’m not complaining. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up. It’s a time management issue more than anything, and I can handle it. It helps that I like all my classes and love what I’m reading and learning. If some assignments are intrinsically less interesting than others, well … that’s just the way it goes. The trickiest times are when Tami and I both have something due–that takes a little advance planning and some give and take. What I haven’t yet learned to do is to give myself permission to not feel guilty if I decide to take a little time for myself. I used to be good at giving myself that permission–I’m not sure what changed along the way.

Tami and I were brainstorming seminary slogans the other evening, based on all the military recruiting ads we could remember and any other inspirations that came along. Here are a couple I remember, plus another I came up with later:

• The afore-mentioned “Seminary–There’s always something to do, and always something due.”
• “It’s not just a job, it’s an indenture.”
• “Be called, that you can be.”

As you can see, we need to work on them some more.

We do get three days off for Thanksgiving, which will really help, even with the traveling we’ll be doing. Then it will be into the home stretch for the last three weeks of the semester. I can catch up on my sleep after classes are done.

I am looking forward to having more time to read for fun, and I’m looking forward to my J-Term independent study, “Readings in C. S. Lewis.” My reporting structure for that class will be to post my reflections on my reading to this very blog, so you’ll all (both of you) get to read what I think about several different C. S. Lewis books during January.

Well, now that I can check one more item off the list, it’s on to the next thing.

The Shoreline Of Wonder

‎”The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder.”
- Huston Smith, The Illustrated World’s Religions

This quote comes from a book I’m reading for my Religion, Anthropology, and the Human World class. The author was pointing out that, contrary to popular supposition, the number of questions left to be answered by religion does not shrink as human knowledge about the universe increases–the number grows.

I love this analogy, and agree with the author, but this is more to me than a statement about the possibilities and potential of religion and the religious impulse in human beings. It is a very personal, and very real, summary of where I find myself right now.

When I arrived at seminary I had some concept of what I didn’t know and needed to learn, but one month into my education, the more I learn the more questions I have. Every day the number of things I want to explore gets bigger, and my list of books to read “when I have time” gets longer. Each new idea spawns a dozen questions and, if it’s a good day and I’m lucky, an insight or two. When I make connections between things from different classes, the number of questions grows exponentially. It’s hard some days to resist the temptation to ignore my schoolwork and just go off and research stuff that looks fascinating.

As a scientist-in-training for a time in my younger days, I was an enthusiastic and contented resident of the island of knowledge. My awe at the majesty of God’s creation is still overlaid with a healthy portion of “Why does it work like that?” But in the last few years I’ve spent more and more of my time walking along that shoreline of wonder, staring out at the horizon and thinking “What’s out there?” I’m thinking perhaps that what I’ll really be learning over the next few years is how to build boats.

A Day At Churchwide

I spent Friday, September 30th, at ELCA headquarters in Chicago. I was there primarily to be officially awarded my Fund for Leaders In Mission scholarship at a banquet Friday evening, but we had a full day before that.

We began the morning in a conference room at the O’Hare Marriott. There were sixteen FLIM scholarship winners, all Juniors, two from each of the eight ELCA seminaries. There were also three Middler and Senior winners of Mission Investment Fund Mission Developer scholarships, including one from Wartburg. After some introductions and a preview of how the day was going to go, we headed for the Lutheran Center, where the ELCA Churchwide offices are located, which was within easy walking distance.

Once at the Lutheran Center we had a group photo taken. Later in the day we saw the hallway where the group photos from each year are hung. We then headed for the large conference room where we were going to spend the rest of the day listening to presentations from the leaders of various units within the ELCA. We met with:

• the Executive Director of the Global Mission Unit, who spoke to us about the ELCA’s approach to global mission;
• the Director of the ELCA World Hunger Appeal and the Coordinator of the new ELCA Malaria Campaign (officially voted into existence at the 2011 Churchwide Assembly), who both demonstrated various educational materials for their endeavors;
• Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson, whom we just peppered with questions for an hour (the Director of the Fund for Leaders In Mission later referred to this as Stump the Bishop);
• the Executive Director for Research and Evaluation, who showed us some examples of information his office had gathered for the Greater Milwaukee Synod and explained how such research can be used to help shape outreach efforts;
• the Director for New Evangelizing Congregations, who spoke to us about efforts in planting new congregations and Synodically Authorized Worshipping Communities, and how many of these do not resemble what most ELCA members think of as church.

The day ended with a tour of the top floor and a few more introductions. One side of the Lutheran Center has a gorgeous view of the downtown Chicago skyline. It was an interesting, exciting, and informative day. During the morning, we also had individual pictures taken, and we signed release forms allowing the ELCA to use those pictures, along with quotes from our application and information forms, in advertising materials for the Fund for Leaders In Mission. Yes, my face could sometime grace an ELCA brochure or magazine ad. Or they could choose one of the good-looking recipients…

After an hour or so to rest and regroup, it was off to the banquet. The banquet is held to coincide with the fall meeting of the Conference of Bishops, so the room was full of purple shirts and large pendant crosses. There are 65 synod bishops in the ELCA, plus Presiding Bishop Hanson, and most of them were there. The eight seminary presidents were also in attendance, as well as many people from the churchwide office. It was very strange to be in a room full of people who are much more important than I am and be the center of attention (well, one of them). I had my picture taken with three different bishops:

• Bishop Jim Arends of the La Crosse Area Synod (my home synod),
• Bishop Harold Usgaard of the Southeastern Minnesota Synod, who in his first call was my high school youth pastor, and
• Presiding Bishop Hanson, as he handed me my scholarship award letter.

The winners from each seminary also had a group picture taken with their seminary president. I was told that I will be receiving copies of these photos–if I do, I’ll post them here.

During the social hour there was a slide show of our individual pictures taken that day with quotes from our information form. Material from that form was also used to create our introductions. During dinner I had the opportunity to speak with several bishops as well as the editor of The Lutheran, all of whom were seated at my table. The bishop sitting on the other side of me from Bishop Arends is on the Wartburg Board of Directors (Coincidence? I think not.) and he expressed a desire to meet with me and to meet Tami when he comes to campus for the board meeting in early November.

After dinner we went onstage one at a time, stood next to Bishop Hanson while our introduction was read, and then Bishop Hanson handed us our scholarship letter and shook our hand. During my introduction, the Director for the Fund for Leaders In Mission read my statement that “effective leaders listen more than they speak,” paused, then read that sentence again with exaggerated emphasis, to much laughter from the crowd. Bishop Hanson leaned over to me, smiled, and whispered “You’ll get over that.”

It was an interesting, wonderful day and evening, full of networking and a strange feeling that I was a child playing dress-up in adult clothing. It was also energizing and invigorating; the leaders of the ELCA are filled with energy, passion, and vision, and they make me excited to serve this church. I would like to publicly thank Bishops Arends and Usgaard for all of the names and other information they discretely fed me as I was meeting new people. The attention just reinforced my feeling that now big things are expected of me, so I’d better knuckle down and prepare myself to accomplish them.

Community

Most Wartburg students will tell you they were drawn to Wartburg at least in part by the sense of community. It’s almost as if Wartburg selects us as much as we select Wartburg, naturally attracting people who will thrive in this atmosphere. But that community has some interesting facets.

For starters, there’s the fact that, due to internship year, you’re only around people in other class years for a single year. This is quite different from college, or even from my other grad school experiences. This year, I am getting to know people in the middler (2nd year) and senior classes. At the end of this year, the seniors will graduate and move on to their calls. The middlers will go on internship. Next year, when I am a middler, there will be a new class of juniors, and the seniors will be those who are on internship this year–neither of which group I know. When this year’s middlers come back from internship, I will be on internship myself. When I come back from internship, there will be a new class of juniors, and a class of middlers who arrived while I was on internship.

This is both sad and exciting. It’s sad that wonderful relationships will come to an end much too soon. It’s exciting (at least, I think it will be) to see the community continually change and yet remain basically the same from one year to the next. I do feel that this turnover makes it especially important to establish solid connections and friendships within my own class.

There are also distinct sub-communities. Some sub-communities are a result of housing. The different groups of housing are not that far apart as the crow flies, but it’s far enough that I don’t often see people who live in the dorm, or the various campus apartment buildings, outside of classes. Yet I see my immediate neighbors almost daily, even if they are in another class year. Some sub-communities are a result of age or marital status, some involve specific interests. It reminds me of a square dance: people move about, come together for a time in a specific pattern, then swirl away to meet with someone else.

All of these varied expressions of community are tied together by caring. Love for one’s neighbor is strong here; Tami and I have felt that from the first time we visited. We each help others when we can, or none of us would survive. Caring is what re-forms the community each year, and caring keeps the community strong. When I sit in Chapel in the morning I feel lifted on a tide of love and support and well-wishes. I have a purpose, and a place, and a presence. God is at work here, and it is good.