At the Kilns: Oxford

I just returned home from a 12 day whirlwind tour of Britain, beginning on the West Highland Way of Scotland and ending on the crowded streets of metropolitan London. Along the way, I had an opportunity to visit Oxford, the long-time home of my beloved C.S. Lewis.

The city has been dubbed the city of Dreaming Spires. From ground level, it is hard to see the spires, but from a higher vantage point (or on post cards), it is quite clearly a “spired” if not “dreaming” city. The first chance I had, I visited Magdalen College. Oxford University consists of 39 colleges, many of them beautifully and uniquely built and designed. One of my guide books, however, described Magdalen as the most striking of the colleges. It is situated on the edge of town along the River Cherwell. A number of picturesque walking paths run alongside the college grounds and a 300-year-old deer herd pastures around the buildings in The Grove. My interest in Magdalen College, however, was primarily a result of my great interest in the life and writing of C.S. Lewis, who taught for many years at this college.

I walked to High Street and entered Magdalen College (pronounced Maudlin). I paid the entrance fee and navigated my way to “The New Building”. The building is called “new” even though it was built in 1733; relatively speaking, it is significantly newer than the Gothic buildings that make up the rest of the college. In this building, C.S. Lewis had his “rooms” while serving as a Don and Tutor for thirty years. As a salaried teacher, he was given a suite of rooms (room 3, on staircase 3). In these rooms, Lewis wrote many of his books, essays, lectures and sermons; it is also where he made his conversion from atheism to a belief in God in 1929. The rooms are currently occupied by a professor and are inaccessible.

After enjoying the exterior of New Building, I made my way to Addison’s Walk, where C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and Hugo Dyson had their “long night talk” in 1931. The three argued and discussed religion and mythology, after which Lewis concluded that Christianity is a “true myth”. At this point, Lewis only believed in God, not in Christ. Eight days later, by the grace of God, C.S. Lewis became a Christian on route to the zoo in his brother Warnie’s motorcycle sidecar. Having read so much about Jack Lewis, I almost considered Addison’s Walk to be a mythological place, not a place where mythology was debated. I strolled down this beautiful walkway, enjoying the solitude and calmness of early spring in Oxford.

Along the wall near the beginning of Addison’s Walk, there is a plaque with a poem by C.S. Lewis inscribed on it. It was installed on the centenary of Lewis’s birth in1998. The poem is entitled, “What the bird said early in the year”. It is about the hopeful coming of Spring experienced along Addison’s Walk. I suspect the poem was written before Lewis’s conversion, but it seems to express his yearning for lasting joy and his sense of the eternal.

After enjoying the tranquil setting, with its birds chirping and bees humming, I returned to the centre of town at St. Giles street to rejoin my group of students. Later that evening, I caught a bus from my hotel to the famous watering hole of the Inklings---“The Eagle and Child”. The pub is situated on St. Giles and appeared exactly as I had seen it in numerous photographs. The pub, which is also alliteratively dubbed, “The Bird and Baby”, was founded in 1650. The name of the pub is taken from Greek mythology, with Zeus as an eagle stealing the infant child Ganymede. From 1939 to 1962, the “Inklings” met here on Tuesday for lunch and literary discussion. The Inklings consisted of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Warnie Lewis, Charles Williams, Neville Coghill and many others. The Inklings also frequented many other pubs during their time meeting together. When I went into the pub, I was aware that the “back room” used by the Inklings (called the Rabbit room), was no longer a back room. While the Inklings were meeting at the Bird, a new owner decided to add an extension into what was then a pony yard behind the pub. The Rabbit room became a room leading to the extension. With the loss of privacy, the Inklings sought another venue for reading and critiquing each other’s works in progress.

When I entered the pub, the Rabbit room was just opposite the bar counter and was occupied by seven patrons. Slightly disappointed, I retreated to the back extension and wrote in my journal. After sometime had passed, the Rabbit room opened up and I sat down where the great literary figures met. I didn’t enjoy the experience as much as I had hoped. What I needed was some good fellowship with dear friends. After enjoying my second pint, I asked the waiter to snap a picture of me in this famous corner of literary history.

The next day, we packed up our luggage, loaded the bus and drove a short four miles to Headington Quarry. We unloaded on Kiln Lane and I walked (quite anxiously) up Lewis Close at the end of which I found Lewis’s home, The Kilns. Originally, the property was nine acres and included a small orchard, greenhouse, brick kilns, a tennis court and a small pond. After Jack’s death and his brother’s death ten years later, the property was parcelled off to developers. The home itself became a residence for students. Only recently has The Kilns been restored by the C.S. Lewis Foundation to replicate the time the Lewis brothers et al lived at the home. It is not a museum and is only open for tours via appointment. The Foundation restored the home to function as a research centre for serious scholars of Lewis. I made an appointment and we had a wonderful tour of the house. The Foundation has done a marvellous job restoring the house to its former glory (in fact, Douglas Gresham, stepson of Lewis, claims that it is in better condition then when they lived there). Over a hundred volunteers from the US worked to make the Kilns functional in the style and décor of the time Jack lived there. I have never seen such care and attention to detail. If you are in Oxford, then I urge you to make an appointment and visit the Kilns.

The house is decorated with period furniture, although none of it is original to The Kilns. The advantage of this is that visitors can actually sit down and touch things. There are also pictures of Lewis and other residents of the Kilns spread around the home. Several of the photos I have never seen before, which was a splendid treat.

The only original pieces are Warnie’s typewriter, which he used to type out Jack’s manuscripts, and an original pub sign for the Bird. The latter was purchased by Walter Hooper several years ago and is on display at The Kilns.

Below are a picture from Lewis’s bedroom and a picture of me standing outside the staircase Jack used to get in and out of his room.

After visiting the Kilns, we made our way to the CS Lewis Community Nature Reserve which used to be part of the Kilns property. The small pond was created when the property actually was a working brick kilns. The operators excavated the clay from the ground and the hole they left was filled by a spring. Jack and his brother, along with Paxford the gardener, maintained this pond during their time living there. They had a punt to float about on and they used to swim there. It is now a pleasant nature reserve for a variety of flora and fauna.

Just under a mile away is the church where Jack and his brother worshipped---Holy Trinity Church, Headington Quarry.

In the cemetery surrounding the quaint old church, I found the burial marker of the two brothers C.S. Lewis and Major W.H. Lewis.

I cannot begin to describe the pleasure it was to visit so many sights related to C.S. Lewis, a man who I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude. It was through Lewis’s imaginary wardrobe into Narnia that I began my serious life-long love for “story”. Jack has shaped my thinking about literature, my philosophy of education, my spirituality and my life. I thank God for using this man for His glory and for the building up of His church. I am but one of millions who have been blessed by Jack’s writing and his life.

At the Kilns: Best laid plans...

Perhaps the cause of my non-existent blogging as of late is because I have not fulfilled any of my “At the Kilns” goals from year end 2008.

What have I been doing? I am still reading the Iliad… My “almost finished” in the previous post was a bit hasty. I am still enjoying the masterfully written epic poem, even though it is incredibly gruesome, especially now that Achilles has entered the battle field. I am truly “almost finished” now.

Another delightful diversion from my reading goals is a UK travel book by Bill Bryson. A dear friend and colleague---also a Brit---gave me this “assigned reading” in order to prepare me for my March Break tour of Britain. The book is entitled, Notes from a Small Island. It is a hilarious and interesting read, peppered with the occasional expletive. Officially, I do NOT recommend the book.

My wife and I have also started reading Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice together. This was an idea that emerged during a particularly cozy and delightful tea time. She has read the Austen books countless times. I have watched the A&E Pride & Prejudice countless times. Now that we are reading P&P together, I can’t believe I settled this long with the mini-series. Oh, what I have been missing!

For school, I am re-reading Old School by Tobias Wolff. A student has "accidentally" picked up my clearly marked and personally annotated copy of the novel. There are no online aids or literary guides available, so I suspect a student settled for Mr. Johnston's notes... I also re-read Euripides' play The Bacchae for my Classical Civilization course. I should really blog about this play sometime. I also saw another Greek play, Medea, by Euripides at the Canon Theatre in Toronto. I should blog about that too... sometime...

My “At the Kilns” reading has been moved to “In the Loo” reading… Christian Reflections… “almost finished”… One thing I have learned from Lewis is that I still have a lot to learn from Lewis. Reading a paragraph of C.S. Lewis is like opening a trans-dimensional worm-hole to another galaxy populated by stars of illuminating insight and planets of "down-to-earth" wisdom. What a gift to Christendom he is. I am really looking forward to visiting Oxford in March; hopefully I will be able to be---literally---“At the Kilns” .

As I near March Break, I need to decide what travel reading I will bring... if I will take a Lewis book or two to wrap up my foray "At the Kilns" or if I am going to begin foraging "At L'Abri"... Perhaps I should be more concerned about what I should pack for clothes... but in the advice of Erasmus, who once wrote (loosely translated from Latin), "When I travel, I first pack my books, and if I have any room left over, I pack underwear and clothes." Wise words.

At the Kilns: Reading C.S. Lewis

Back in March, I started a blog series entitled, “At the Kilns”. The mantra of this series was “Learning from C.S. Lewis”; the plan was to immerse myself in the writings of C.S. Lewis. As this year draws to a close, I would like to review what I have read and what I still need to read before my yearlong endeavour concludes in March 2009.

At the Kilns: Learning form the Writings of C.S. Lewis
Books read in 2008

Fiction:
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Prince Caspian
The Great Divorce

Lectures/Sermons/Apologetics:
The Weight of Glory
God in the Dock
Christian Reflections (nearly finished)

Christian Life:
The Four Loves
A Grief Observed

Letters:
selections from They Stand Together: C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves
Letters to an American Lady

Biography:
C.S. Lewis Remembered by H.L. Poe and R. W. Poe
Seeking the Secret Place: The Spiritual Formation of C.S. Lewis by Lyle Dorsett

Books unrelated to C.S. Lewis
Old School by Tobias Wolff
Glory and Honour: The Musical and Artistic Legacy of J.S. Bach by Gregory Wilbur
Iliad by Homer (nearly finished)

On the list for the next three months, I propose the following (based on the recommendations of a well-read Lewis fan):

That Hideous Strength (from The Cosmic Trilogy)
Till We Have Faces

This will take me to March. I may also be able to fit in The Abolition of Man. There is still a sizable corpus of Lewis’ writings I have yet to explore. Most of the books I read this year are among Lewis' shorter texts; nonetheless, I will have a lifetime, Lord willing, to read and re-read more of C.S. Lewis. After March break, however, I will leave the Kilns and begin a series on Francis Schaeffer… “At L’Abri”. The Kilns won't be left behind completely, mind you. Lewis has a way of appearing on my reading list every year.

At the Kilns: Letters to an American Lady, grading papers and rediscovering Horatio

One of the things I have learned while reading C.S. Lewis is that grading papers is always a burden, no matter how much of a genius or master teacher one is. Perhaps, it is more of a burden for those who are geniuses and master teachers…

This point became clear after reading a short little book called Letters to an American Lady. It is a collection of letters C.S. Lewis wrote to an American woman over the course of a decade. She wrote to Lewis---at times incessantly---and Lewis responded faithfully to almost every single letter she wrote to him. During the course of years, academic terms and increasing illness on both their parts, Lewis recounts the demands on his time. Most prominent is grading papers.

I was encouraged, not by the fact that Lewis felt burdened by grading, but that I was not the only one who seemed to be feeling the pangs of poorly written prose. There is no easy way out of marking. It simply has to be waded through. During each stint of examinations, Lewis faithful trudged on despite his time being far more precious and valuable than mine. The other encouraging thing for me is that since Lewis inevitably finishes grading and is able to move on to other things he enjoys, so can I.

All this being said, I recently read a student essay that brought me some delight. I am currently wading through 80 essays on Hamlet… and I have encountered the usual themes of death, revenge and death-resulting-from-revenge and death-resulting-in-revenge sort of essays… This essay stood out because it focused on Horatio. My student writes, “readers have a tendency to direct much of their energy towards the main characters. However, secondary characters in a work should never be overlooked…” True enough. He goes on to write, “In a play full of deception, betrayal, revenge and strong passion, it is very important for the audience to be able to rely on a voice of reason and truth.” Very true. He continues, “In Hamlet, Horatio is this truth teller; he is an observer of action and a commentator. Horatio is the one character in the play who can be trusted not only by Hamlet but by the audience.” I was gripped. In teaching Hamlet, I address Horatio’s importance only in relation to how he functions in advancing the plot shedding certain light on Hamlet. I had never really considered Horatio for Horatio’s sake. When all other human beings in the play betray all forms of human relationships, Horatio is the steadfast and faithful one. He is the hope that remains after Pandora’s Box is opened and a torrent of death and mayhem are unleashed in the closing scene of the play.

Anyway, it was great to read something inspiring. Although it is making the rest of my marking more challenging. Revenge and death, death and revenge. Oh, the carnage of words, paper and Shakespeare. As I tread through the battlefields of intellectual promise and academic potential, I long for a truth teller, someone who can be trusted… I need another dose of Horatio.

At the Kilns: Letters to a Friend

Arthur Greeves

I recently borrowed from the library a collection of letters by C.S. Lewis called They Stand Together: The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves (1914-1963). Arthur Greeves was one of C.S. Lewis oldest and most cherished of friends. Next to his brother W.H. Lewis or his wife Joy Davidman, I do not think C.S. Lewis had a closer friend in his life. The book contains the nearly all Lewis’s correspondence with Greeves during the course of his lifetime. The book, which is currently out-of-print, runs over 500 pages.

I am sporadically reading through the weighty tome, and I am utterly amazed at Lewis’s intimacy, candidacy, and his fluidity of writing. His gift for communication is clearly evident in even his earliest letters to Greeves.

One of the biographical aspects that struck me was the impression I get that Lewis liked the “look of books” almost as much as the content of the books he read. It seems that he and Arthur purchased and repurchased books in various editions based on their aesthetically pleasing binding (I must admit that I have done the same thing myself...). Most people who are familiar with Lewis are aware that he read copiously. However, it is still astonishing how much Lewis read. He frequently comments to Greeves about his reading such-and-such a book or re-reading such-and-such an author. He read classical literature, he read widely in English literature and European literature, and he read a considerable amount of contemporary literature.

In one letter to Arthur, Lewis describes his present enjoyment while reading Tolstoy’s War and Peace. He recommends that Arthur read the book himself. He writes,

I strongly advise you to try it. Its length, which deters some people, will not frighten you: you will only rejoice, when the right time comes, —say after tea some day next autumn when fires are still a novelty—at that old, delicious feeling of embarkation on a long voyage, which one seldom gets now.

After reading these words, I was struck with a longing for a cool autumn night in order to begin my own “embarkation” into the world of Tolstoy's War and Peace.

All of the letters I have read are compelling reading. It is particularly striking to read about his thoughts on Christianity as they develop from atheism to unshakable faith in Jesus Christ. In one particularly famous letter, we learn about Lewis’s late night “memorable talk” about Christianity while strolling Addison’s walk with Tolkien and Hugo Dyson. In the letter, dated October 1st, 1931, Lewis writes to Greeves,

How deep I am just now beginning to see: for I have just passed on from believing in God to definitely believing in Christ—in Christianity. I will try to explain another time. My long night talk with Dyson and Tolkien had a good deal to do with it.

Hopefully this most fascinating and incredibly valuable collection of letters will find its way back into print. For my present copy of the book, well, it is due back to the library today.

At the Kilns: The need to be needed

The first of the “four loves” C.S. Lewis writes about in his book The Four Loves is “Affection”. Affection is the broadest and most inclusive of loves, the sort of love between parents and children, teachers and students, masters and pets, so on and so forth. In his discussion of this sort of love, he details the associated pitfalls. And, like all beautiful gifts of God, given to fallen man, there are many pitfalls.

One pitfall in particular struck me. He described the “terrible need to be needed” and he cited, as example, the over-protective mother, who labours to ensure an ever-dependent mindset in her children. Lewis describes the “ravenous need to be needed” that will “gratify itself either by keeping its objects needy or by inventing for them imaginary needs”. This abuse of affection, however, is not limited to mothers. Lewis goes on to cite a literary example from Jane Austen’s Emma. I have not read the book, but I have watched the film version. I recall Emma’s controlling affection for Harriet Smith.

What struck me in all this was not that I am an over-protective mother (or father…) nor am I the sort of sort person who interferes with the happiness of my friends. What struck me was Lewis third example—the teacher. He writes,

My own profession—that of a university teacher—is in this way dangerous. If we are any good we must always be working towards the moment at which our pupils are fit to become our critics and rivals. We should be delighted when it arrives, as a fencing master is delighted when his pupil can pink and disarm him.

I must confess that—at times—I delight too much in the reciprocated affection from my pupils. I must remind myself that educators “must aim” at making ourselves “superfluous…” It is a stern warning for all educators. C.S. Lewis writes, “The hour when we can say, ‘They need me no longer’ should be our reward”. A truly great reward indeed.

At the Kilns: On Reading Lewis and Watching Star Wars

I am reading C.S. Lewis’s The Four Loves. It is an unparalleled example of Lewis’s insightful and ingenious way of writing; he makes many poignant and perceptive observations about human nature and the world. The commentary he offers is rooted in a well-considered and broad perspective of all reality. Real truth for a real world, a world that includes the physical and spiritual.

As I was considering my plan to immerse myself in the writings of C.S. Lewis this year, it has occurred to me that I should have mapped out my reading list chronologically. That is, according to the order that Lewis wrote/published his works. I have already begun to see parallels in the ideas Lewis presents as I read his works. It would have been profitable to discover Lewis’s train of thought as it surfaces through his publications. No one ever arrives at all knowledge and wisdom, and then proceeds to write it all down. There is a process of growing and gathering. By reading his works in the order that he wrote them would give me a better idea of how Lewis fostered his worldview. I am not talking about fundamental changes in his thinking; I am interested in minor advancements in his thinking, shifts in perspective, refinement, new discoveries and so on. How did he envision life as a 35 year old (say in, Pilgrim’s Regress 1933) as opposed to a 58 year old (say in, Till We Have Faces 1956)?

If I ever do this sort of thing again, then I will certainly begin at the beginning. As I look ahead to future reading, I am becoming increasingly interested in Francis Schaeffer. I may start reading his works in the order of publication.

On a related note, I also recommend that new readers coming to “Narnia” enjoy the books as they were published, not according to Narnian chronology. Lewis recommends---albeit whimsically---that people should read the Chronicles of Narnia chronologically. This is why the publishers number the books beginning with The Magician’s Nephew. This book was actually the sixth book he wrote. In spite of Lewis’s recommendation, I must disagree with him on this point. I am convinced that readers should begin with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The main reason is the fact that The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is a much better book than The Magician’s Nephew. It is a better story. I have heard many people confess that they started to read the Chronicles of Narnia but “never got into the series…” I proceed to ask what book they started with: the answer, The Magician’s Nephew. It is the “Genesis” of Narnia, it explains the origin of the Narnian world. However, I believe this book’s value to readers comes only after readers have fallen in love with the world Lewis created. How did the lamp post get into Narnia? We only ask that question once we come to cherish that first magical image of the lamp post on the other of the wardrobe… along with an umbrella wielding Faun carrying packages on a snowy day. I am so glad I began my own personal journey into Narnia with the snow covered lamp post. For me, this image is unforgettable. My brother, who gave me the books as a gift many years ago, recommended that order of reading. Thanks, bro.

The order Lewis actually wrote the books is as follows (the publishers numbering according to Narnian chronology is in parentheses):

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2)
Prince Caspian (4)
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (5)
The Silver Chair (6)
The Horse and his boy (3)
The Magician’s Nephew (1)
The Last Battle (7)

On a (mostly) unrelated note, I also recommend that first-time viewers of the Star Wars franchise watch the films in order of production, not in order of Star Wars chronology.

Star Wars IV: A New Hope (1977)
Star Wars V: Empire Strikes Back (1980)
Star Wars VI: Return of the Jedi (1983)
Star Wars I: Phantom Menace (1999)
Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones (2002)
Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)

I just hope Lucas doesn’t get any more “pre-quel” ideas with the Indiana Jones franchise…

At the Kilns: On Death

I recently read C.S. Lewis’s book The Great Divorce. It tells the story of the narrator’s journey from Hell to Heaven on a magic bus. The work is entirely imaginative in that Lewis does not make any attempts to seriously speculate what Hell or Heaven is really like. What he does accomplish, though, is a powerful allegory of salvation and humanity’s determined resistance to the gift of JOY found only in Christ.

It is a strange tale, I must admit. Nevertheless, I found it powerful, especially in portraying our folly as humans. Visitors from Hell encounter--in the “foothills” of Heaven---redeemed saints who they once knew in life. These redeemed saints seek to persuade the condemned--one last time--to turn to Christ. The petty and self-centred sinful nature of humanity is revealed to be so ridiculous and so pathetic (at times) when contrasted with the setting of Heaven, which is vividly portrayed as a fantastical and imaginative landscape. In light of eternity, in light of Heaven, in light of the God of all creation, anything and everything that separates us from Christ should be immediately discarded. Lewis portrays this plainly and forcefully. Frequently during the short read, I pondered my own life and wondered how much I valued Christ and the salvation of souls over my career, my family, my life, my possessions, my “anything” and “everything.”

The book also caused me to ponder death. This became especially potent in light of my Opa’s recent passing. In Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet is told by his mother that death is common.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity. (Act I Scene 2)

Death afflicts us all, but it is not “common” in the colloquial sense of the word, that is, mundane or ordinary. We were not created to endure death or the separation that death brings. The fact that we do manage to endure the passing of our loved ones is due to the grace of God. Death itself is not natural, in that we were not created to die. We were created to live eternally in fellowship with God and man.

In A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis writes candidly about his own grief after the death of his wife, Joy Davidman. It is an incredibly revealing account of Lewis’s private thoughts and his pain. Lewis had experienced the death of his mother (when he was 10 years old), the death of his father, the death of fellow soldier Paddy Moore, and the death of his close friend, Charles Williams. Yet, he never seemed to fully accept the “commonness” of death. Originally, A Grief Observed was published under the pseudonym, N.W. Clerk, to hide the fact that the great apologist C.S. Lewis doubted the goodness of God while he was in mourning (N.W. Clerk is short for “I know not what scholar” in Old English). On death, C.S. Lewis writes,

It is hard to have patience with people who say ‘There is no death’ or ‘Death doesn’t matter.’ There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn’t matter. I look up at the night sky. Is anything more certain than that in all those vast times and spaces, if I were allowed to search them, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch? She died. She is dead. Is the word so difficult to learn?

Death IS difficult to handle and impossible to truly understand. Even though death has lost its sting, it still hurts. Coping with death does not come naturally. So much else in life does come naturally… Take for example a mother loving her wrinkly, purplish, alien-like newborn baby. She even calls it beautiful! But maternal love is natural. God made fathers and mothers to love their children. But accepting death... that is not natural nor easily done, despite the obvious and universally known fact that "all that lives must die." As Lewis puts it, one gets “over” the death of a loved one the same way a one-legged man gets “over” loosing his leg. He gets “by” not “over.”

Death is a consequence of sin. Christians have hope in death, but Christians also have hurt in death. Death has no sting for the departed in Christ, but for those left behind, death stings like any other consequence of the great fall of man.

At the Kilns: Lewis on Predestination

In Doug Wilson’s article, “Was C.S. Lewis Reformed?” he addresses C.S. Lewis’s understanding of the seemingly contradictory tension between “predestination” and “man’s responsibility” apparent in the Scriptures. Wilson writes that “[C.S. Lewis] refused to set one truth against another.” Wilson goes on, quoting Lewis on the subject: “Of course reality must be self-consistent; but till (if ever) we can see the consistency it is better to hold two inconsistent views than to ignore one side of the evidence . . . It is plain from Scripture that, in whatever sense the Pauline doctrine is true, it is not true in any sense which excludes its (apparent) opposite.” Although Lewis wasn't "reformed" per se, Doug Wilson comments, “It is important here to note how Lewis named the doctrine of predestination under discussion—the ‘Pauline doctrine.’ And he assumed it was true in some sense which would make people think it might exclude its apparent opposite—the genuine freedom of men and women. But of course, because God cannot lie, no truths contradict at the ultimate level. God is sovereign and the creature is free.”

At the Kilns: a grief experienced

Tonight, my Opa went home to be with his Lord and Saviour.

"Therefore, being always of good courage, and knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord---for we walk by faith, not by sight---we are of good courage, I say, and prefer rather to be absent from the body and to be at home with the Lord." (2 Co 5:6-8)

My heart lept for joy.

At the Kilns: A Defense of C.S. Lewis

When I was at Bible college in Alberta, a dear friend of mine saw me reading Mere Christianity. Even though C.S. Lewis was not on any of the course reading lists for that year, I was simply reading it for the edification of my soul. The effect Lewis’s writing had on me was nothing short of transforming. So, like anyone who enjoys something, I enthusiastically told my friend what I was learning. To my surprise, my friend responded that I should be cautious reading C.S. Lewis. Apparently Lewis held some strange beliefs. Well, I kept reading Lewis… for the edification of my soul. And, I later discovered, Lewis did hold to some strange beliefs, which become apparent when scrutinizing his lesser known works and the occasional private correspondence. Nevertheless, I have (and continue to be) tremendously blessed through the writings of C.S. Lewis… and so have millions of people around the world.

Without doubt, Lewis was a born-again believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. Did he have all his theological ducks in a row? No. Do I? Probably not. Do you?

The fact that Lewis’s life has undergone so much scrutiny, I am surprised there is not more so called “dirt” that is discovered. On the contrary, the testimony of those who knew him is consistent with his public confession as a believer in Jesus Christ. The resounding affirmation of real and sincere Christianity lived out in his life comes from fellow believers and unbelievers alike—close friends, acquaintances, students, colleagues and correspondents (Lewis wrote over 3400 personal letters to people around the world).

Part of the alarm and concern about Lewis is the overwhelming acceptance and popularity of his writings among evangelicals and non-evangelicals, Papists and Mormons. The problem with this line of argument is that we would have to disregard the Apostle Paul's writings as well.

Some critics accuse Lewis of going too far in his orthodox convictions. When C.S. Lewis was featured on the cover of Time magazine in 1947, the accompanying article records that Lewis “is one of a growing band of 'heretics' among modern intellectuals: an intellectual who believes in God… not a mild and vague belief, for he accepts ‘all the articles of the Christian faith.’” On the otherhand, some "hardliners" accuse Lewis of not going far enough is expounding Christian orthodoxy. However, I think what they really mean is, Lewis does not expound their preferrential doctrinal nuances as gospel truth. Explaining his role as an apologist, Lewis states: “We are defending Christianity; not ‘my religion.’ When we mention our personal opinions we must always make quite clear the difference between them and the Faith itself.” The proof is in the pudding. The simple fact is that Lewis's writing has pointed many to Christ, not the Church of England.

Recently when I came across harsh criticism and condemnation of Lewis, I felt a pang of hurt in my soul. Here is an excerpt of what I read: Mary Van Nattan, who, in her article, “C.S. Lewis: The Devil’s Wisest Fool,” writes, “John F. Kennedy, C.S. Lewis, and Aldous Huxley all died on the same day. They all went to the same place”—i.e., “hell.”

Reflecting on this sensation of hurt, I wondered why I would react to criticism of Lewis. The answer, in Lewis’s words, is “The Church is the Bride of Christ. We are members of one another.” We are members of one body, Christ’s body. To read a “damning” article or hearing a harshly critical report about a fellow believer in Christ should cause all of us who believe in Christ to feel a sense of pain and disappointment. We are called to “build one another up” (1 Th 5:11) and we are warned not to “judge” (cf. Mt 7:1ff, Ro 14:4-10ff).

The BBC described to Lewis “the sharp division [he produces in his] audience: they either regard [him] as the cat’s whiskers, or as beneath contempt.” C.S. Lewis’s response was simple: “The two views you report aren’t very illuminating about me perhaps. About my subject matter it is an old story, isn’t it? They love or hate.”

The Apostle Paul writes in 2 Timothy 4:8, “In the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing.” I thank God for being the righteous Judge and I thank God for C.S. Lewis, who sincerely and wholeheartedly loved “His appearing.”

At the Kilns: "The Spirituality of C.S. Lewis"

This past Sunday night saw the conclusion of the four part series, "The Christian and Literature." The last instalment is entitled "The Spirituality of C. S. Lewis." I disuss four areas of Lewis's life that set him as an example to the church of a sincere and effective life for Christ.

I. C.S. Lewis understood his calling and gifts and he used them imaginatively for the Glory of God.

II. C.S. Lewis understood his calling and gifts and he used them sacrificially for the Glory of God.

III. C.S. Lewis had a burden for the lost and a sincere love for fellow man.

IV. C.S. Lewis sought to glorify God sincerely in his daily life and work.

In spite of his fame during his lifetime, he remained an ordinary Christian man. He never quit his day job; he never became a full time theologian, apologist or pastor. However, he laboured for the Kingdom of Christ, building up the church and drawing the lost to Jesus.

Without a doubt, C.S. Lewis used his original and creative imagination powerfully to advance the kingdom of God and glorify Christ. The church can learn much from his example.

The last message, "The Spirituality of C.S. Lewis," is available on Sermon Audio.

At the Kilns: Still Learning from Lewis

I have taken a brief hiatus from my blogging series "At the Kilns." Things are very hectic at home: my wife is pregnant, my children are finishing their home schooling year, my school year wraps up and I am finishing my speaking series “The Christian and Literature” at my home church. Nevertheless, C.S. Lewis has been a staple for me during this speaking series and he is the subject of my last message, “C.S. Lewis and the Christian Imagination.”

As for my most recent Lewis reading… my children and I are on to Prince Caspian having finished The L., W. & W.. My plan is to take the boys to see the new film (if it turns out to be suitable for my young lads). I am also reading Lewis’s The Great Divorce, which is a fascinating (albeit unusual) similitude of the after life. I also plan to read a recent spiritual biography of Lewis called Seeking the Secret Place: The Spiritual Formation of C.S. Lewis by Dr. Lyle Dorsett. Dorsett is the former director of the Marion E. Wade Centre (an archive housing the world's largest collection of “Lewisania” and the premiere C. S. Lewis research hub in the world) and he is notably one of the foremost experts on the life and writings of Lewis. I have already begun perusing the book in preparation for this Sunday’s message. Dorsett focuses on the journey of sanctification and spiritual growth of C.S. Lewis after his conversion. In the introduction, Dorsett comments on the vast amount of excellent biographies that focus on Lewis’s conversion to Christianity or his mature years with Joy Davidman. Very little addresses Lewis’s growth from early convert to the colossal giant of the faith he is known as. This book is Dorsett's attempt to rectify this gap in Lewis scholarship and, most importantly, to edify and encourage the saints in their own spiritual formation.

Also over the course of the next month, I hope to read Lewis’s The Four Loves, which was the first C. S. Lewis book I ever read (12 years ago!). I still have a lot more Lewis books I would like to read this year and I am nearly five months in! Where did the time go?

At the Kilns: Learning from C.S. Lewis

This series on galumphing called “At the Kilns” is devoted to learning from the writings of C.S. Lewis. I thought it might be appropriate to explain what The Kilns actually is.

C.S. Lewis lived and worked for over thirty years at his home in Oxford called “The Kilns.” (See the photo on the sidebar). He also died there on November 22, 1963, the same day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. The house was named after the brick kilns that stood nearby. A kiln is an “oven” for hardening or drying bricks (or pottery, or whatever you intend to harden and dry). The main intent of the title, “At the Kilns” is simple to describe my “experience reading Lewis”—I suppose a double meaning may be that I am “hardening” my faith, or perhaps making bricks to build my faith…? Or perhaps that is cheesy. I am not getting “baked” or “drying up”…

The Kilns has been purchased and refurbished by the C.S. Lewis Foundation to be used for sabbaticals and research, although tours can be arranged by appointment. I am planning on visiting Oxford (Lord willing) next March; the Kilns is top on the list of places to see (that, and Lewis’s favourite pub, the “Bird and Baby”).

Lewis on The Kilns
On Sunday, July 6th, 1930, C.S. Lewis and his brother Warren view The Kilns with the intention to purchase the home. Upon viewing the property, Lewis records, “The eight-acre garden is such stuff dreams are made on… The house… stands at the entrance to its own grounds at the northern foot of Shotover [Hill] at the end of a narrow lane… To the left of the house are the two brick kilns from which it takes its name—in front, a lawn and hard tennis court—then a large bathing pool, beautifully wooded, and with a delightful circular brick seat overlooking it. After that a steep wilderness broken with ravines and nooks of all kinds runs up to a little cliff topped by a thistly meadow, and then the property ends in a thick belt of fir trees, almost a wood. The view from the cliff over the dim blue distance is simply glorious.”

At the Kilns: A Blessing from War

Today in History

Ninety years ago today, on March 24, 1918, Edward “Paddy” Moore, Lewis’s friend and army roommate, is reported missing in action. It is later learned that Paddy had been killed three days prior resisting a German offensive at Pargny, France.

C.S. Lewis fought in one of history’s worst and costliest wars. He lost many comrades-in -arms, he won a medal for bravery and he was wounded by shrapnel from a nearby explosion that killed a soldier next to Lewis. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, Lewis describes his impressions from the front lines: “the horrible smashed men still moving like half crushed beetles, the sitting or standing corpses, the landscape of sheer earth without a blade of grass, the boots worn day and night until they seemed to grow to your feet.”

Being a Canadian and a Lover of Peace

As a Canadian, I have cherished our global role as peacekeepers, even though some missions ended disasterously. Growing up during the Cold War and during a time when Canada was primarily engaged in "peace-keeping" I am only now—slowly—awakening to the reality of Canada's current war in Afghanistan. The question of pacifism is floating around in both Christian and non-Christian circles. What about war? To help answer the question, I turn to my mentor, C.S. Lewis.

Lewis on War

Despite loosing a friend and enduring such horrible experiences, Lewis ardently rejected pacifism. During the Second World War, although too old for active duty, Lewis volunteered to serve on home front duties. I recently read two lectures given by Lewis on the subject of war, “Learning in War-time” and “Why I am not a Pacifist.” The latter lecture is a model of Lewis's impeccably logical mind, and offers a powerful and persuasive case against pacifism. I have been mulling over for a few weeks as to how I would blog about this lecture. In the end, I must resort to simply refer you, if you are interested, to read the essay for yourself. What I will blog about is an excerpt from the former lecture, "Learning in War-time."

In "Learning in War-time," Lewis asks what war does to death? He first explains what is does not do: war does not increase deaths, “since 100 percent of us die;” it does not increase our “chances of a painful death.” He states that on the battlefield we have a better chance of a quick, painless death; “what we call a natural death is usually preceded by suffering.” He goes on to say that war does not “decrease our chances of dying at peace with God.” What other circumstance, Lewis argues, would “better persuade a man to prepare for death”?

“Yet war does do something to death. It forces us to remember it. The only reason why the cancer at sixty or the paralysis at seventy-five do not bother us is that we forget them. War makes death real to us, and that would have been regarded as one of its blessings by most of the great Christians of the past. They thought it good for us to be always aware of our mortality. I am inclined to think they were right.”

At the Kilns: The Dangerous Lion

As I continue my tutelage under the writings of C. S. Lewis, I am also reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to my children. We recently read the wonderful scene in the home of the Beavers, where the tired, cold and bedraggled Pevensie children have a hot meal of fresh trout, potatoes, creamy butter, “gloriously sticky” marmalade rolls and tea (Mr. Beaver imbibed beer, or at least one frothy pint) . After a satisfying meal, Mr. Beaver reclines with his pipe and proceeds to tell the children about Narnia and Aslan.

When asked who—or what—is Aslan, Mr. Beaver states: “Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.” Both Susan and Lucy ask, “Is he—quite safe?”

Mr. Beaver candidly replies, “Safe? Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

“I’m longing to see him,” said Peter.

What a beautiful portrait of God; He is not safe, but He is good. How I long to see Him!

At the Kilns: Digging moles, cocking crows and doing what we were meant to do

A dear family friend, bestsister, posted a comment on a previous post of mine, where I cited C.S. Lewis stating that “A mole must dig to the glory of God and a cock must crow”---in other words, we must do what we were created to do. Bestsister goes on to ask, “How does one know exactly what it is they were created to do?” We know that we were “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Ps. 139:14) and that “we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.” (Eph. 2:10). But the question remains, “What are we supposed to do?”

On her blog, she recently took a personality test and discovered that she was an “encourager”---an apt designation, as she has been a blogging encourager, especially in light of my sometimes slack blogging habits. I took the same test, but I came up as a “person in transition.” Apparently, I am neither here nor there. Fortunately, I did not despair, and I took a personality test I participated in last year. You can take it by clicking here.

Fortunately, the test did not leave me in limbo. I am an ENFJ, which stands for Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging, also known as the Teacher Idealist. According to Joe Butt, I am among “the benevolent ‘pedagogues’ of humanity.” I was surprised by the descriptions of the Teacher Idealist, much of which I recognized as depicting my personality. On the Keirsey Temperament webpage, Teacher Idealists make up less than 2% or 3% of a population. I am a rare fellow, it seems. The top recommended job for people like me is, of course, teacher.

My wife took the same test, and she is an ISTJ, which stands for Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging, also known as Inspector Guardian (or as I like to say, affectionately, Inspector General). Fictional ISTJs are Puddleglum, the marshwiggle (from C.S. Lewis’s The Silver Chair) and Eeyore. Funny thing is, my favourite character in Winnie the Pooh is Eeyore and Puddleglum is unabashedly my favourite hero of The Silver Chair.

Whatever one may think of these sort of tests, I found it tremendously illuminating; especially illuminating is the reality that not everyone thinks the same way I do or is motivated by the same things that motivate me. This has been helpful in my marriage as well; it’s good to know I am married to Mrs. Puddleglum.

Having a better idea of who we are still doesn't completely answer the question of what we should do. In his excellent essay on “Membership”, C.S. Lewis describes the role of Christians within the body of Christ. One of the central points is the fact that we determine our role in relation to others in the church. The Apostle Paul’s metaphor of the “body” for describing Christian fellowship is powerful in that it defies both collectivism and individualism. An “eye” is distinct from the “heart” but neither the eye nor the heart is any good on its own.

The Apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:16-20, “For the body is not one member, but many. If the foot says, ‘Because I am not a hand, I am not a part of the body,’ it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. And if the ear says, ‘Because I am not an eye, I am not a part of the body,’ it is not for this reason any the less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired. If they were all one member, where would the body be? But now there are many members, but one body.”

Who we are and what we were created for is, in part, revealed when we associate with the body of Christ. In a candid moment (or perhaps a moment of flippancy), I lamented to a friend of mine (the Interim Pastor at my church), that there was no need for my service at this church. He immediately listed off five roles in need of immediate attention, all of which were suited to my gifts and temperament.

There is no easy answer to the question “What does God want me to do?” A good place to start is to toil right where God has placed you---at work, at home and at church---and see what opportunities arise. Secondly, ask your church---friends, elders, pastor. It is powerful when the ear says to the eye, “Although I can hear the waves, I need you to see the ocean.”

On personality, C.S. Lewis writes, “True personality lies ahead… and the key to it does not lie in ourselves. It will not be attained by development from within outwards. It will come to us when we occupy those places in the structure of the eternal cosmos for which we were designed or invented. As a colour first reveals its true quality when placed by an excellent artist in its pre-elected spot between certain others, as a spice reveals its true flavour when inserted just where a good cook wishes among the other ingredients… so we shall then first be true prsons when we have suffered ourselves to be fitted into our places. We are marble waiting to be shaped, metal waiting to be run into a mould.” (from “Membership” first read in Oxford on February 10, 1945)

At the Kilns: Learning from C.S. Lewis (I)

As I mentioned earlier this week, I am investing time to learn from the teaching of C.S. Lewis for the course of this year. Over the next few months, I hope to post what I am gleaning from this intellectual and spiritual giant.

At the Kilns: Learning from C.S. Lewis

I recently read “Learning in War-Time” which was a message C.S. Lewis preached at Oxford on October 22 1939. He had been asked to speak on the question whether students should continue with their studies while Great Britain was engaged in an all-encompassing war. He argues, simply, "yes." In the process of his argument on that subject, he makes a comparison to Christians studying, or doing anything, during the ongoing spiritual war.

When thinking about the secular and sacred aspects of life, Christians always end up wrestling with the question C.S. Lewis poses: “How can you be so frivolous and selfish as to think about anything but the salvation of human souls?” There are Christians who ask this question of themselves and others. I wrestle with this question sometimes when I invest energy and time into teaching students about the writings of Shakespeare rather than the writings of the Apostle Paul. It is a worthy question to consider, given the fact that everything this side of glory will pass away. However, this sort of question, adds Lewis, “implies that our life can, and ought, to become exclusively and explicitly religious.” In one sense, our lives do become transformed and all-consumed by Christ. But Lewis distinguishes an exclusive divide between sacred and secular. He writes, “Before I became a Christian I do not think I fully realised hat one’s life, after conversion, would inevitably consist in doing most of the same things one had been doing before, one hopes, in a new spirit, but still the same things.” The reality, Lewis points out, is that we spend most of our time doing the mundane, secular things in life. The solution to this question, then, that Lewis presents is this: “Whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Co 10:31) Lewis goes on to say, “All our merely natural activities will be accepted, if they are offered to God, even the humblest, and all of them, even the noblest, will be sinful if they are not.” This truth can be an encouragement or a sobering rebuke.

Below are some particularly meritous excerpts from the same sermon:

We must do what we were created to do

“The work of Beethoven and the work of a charwoman become spiritual on precisely the same condition, that of being offered to God, of being done humbly ‘as the Lord.’ This does not, of course, mean that it is a mere toss-up whether he should sweep rooms or compose symphonies. A mole must dig to the glory of God and a cock must crow.”

Why we need educated Christians
“A cultural life will exist outside the Church whether it exists inside or not. To be ignorant and simple now---not to be able to meet the enemies on their own ground---would be to throw down our weapons, and to betray our uneducated brethren who have, under God, no defence but us against the intellectual attacks of the heathen.”

“Good philosophy must exist, if for no other reason, because bad philosophy needs to be answered.”

Study history
“Most of all, perhaps, we need an intimate knowledge of the past. Not that the past has anything magical about it, but we cannot study the future, and yet need something to set against the present, to remind us that the basic assumptions have been quite different in different periods and that much which seems certain to the uneducated is merely temporary fashion.”

“A man who has lived in many places is not likely to be deceived by the local errors of his native village; the scholar has lived in many times, and is therefore in some degree immune from the great cataract of nonsense that pouts from the press and the microphone of his own age.”

The quotes from C.S. Lewis are taken from “Learning in War-Time” in The Weight of Glory, edited by Walter Hooper (HarperCollins, 2001)

Speaking of C.S. Lewis...

I recently “confessed” to a friend that each year I find myself reading a couple C. S. Lewis books of one kind or another. I owned up to the fact that I needed to diversify in my reading. However, my friend said that maybe I should sit at the feet of Lewis for a time; learn all that I could from this spiritual giant. He encouraged me to allow Lewis to be my teacher.

I am a product of my culture; therefore, I feel the need to dabble in everything, master nothing. To camp out with one writer for a period of time had never occurred to me. After thinking about this advice, I agreed to take up Lewis as my mentor for this upcoming year. The plan is to immerse myself in the body of his writings. I have no delusions about “mastering” Lewis. I only hope to learn.

Right now, I am reading The Weight of Glory, which is a compilation of Lewis’s sermons and lectures. The thing about Lewis is that he begins writing about an incredibly mind-blowing topic; he then breaks off onto a tangent about another incredibly mind-blowing topic, followed by an incredibly mind-blowing topic to be used as an illustration for the first mind-blowing topic. After I scrape my brains off the ceiling, I will post a few nuggets of wisdom I am learning along the way.

I am also reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to the children. This is the second time for Joseph, and the first time for Nate and Katie. My favourite part (and perhaps one of my favourite scenes in all literature) is when Lucy first meets the Faun in the snow with the umbrella and the parcels. It’s magical and mysterious, the quintessential ingredients for good storytelling. Tonight we finished the chapter where Edmund meets the White Witch and he eats the enchanted Turkish Delight. While the three kids sat on the couch covered by a warm, cozy blanket, they ate a sliced up Big Turk chocolate bar---of the un-enchanted variety.