John Piper on C.S. Lewis: “I shall never cease to thank God for this remarkable man…”
Here is a small excerpt from John Piper’s excellent book Don’t Waste Your Life (which you can read here for free, or buy here for a pittance) wherein he expresses thankfulness for Clive Staples Lewis and details some of the ways he has cleared a path for us all. I’ll only add that I vigorously concur, and that JP is among the very few men who rank with CSL for impact in my own life. -sam
Someone introduced me to Lewis my freshman year with the book, Mere Christianity. For the next five or six years I was almost never without a Lewis book near at hand. I think that without his influence I would not have lived my life with as much joy or usefulness as I have. There are reasons for this.
He has made me wary of chronological snobbery. That is, he showed me that newness is no virtue and oldness is no vice. Truth and beauty and goodness are not determined by when they exist. Nothing is inferior for being old, and nothing is valu¬able for being modern. This has freed me from the tyranny of novelty and opened for me the wisdom of the ages. To this day I get most of my soul-food from centuries ago. I thank God for Lewis’s compelling demonstration of the obvious.
He demonstrated for me and convinced me that rigorous, precise, penetrating logic is not opposed to deep, soul-stirring feeling and vivid, lively—even playful—imagination. He was a “romantic rationalist.” He combined things that almost every¬body today assumes are mutually exclusive: rationalism and poetry, cool logic and warm feeling, disciplined prose and free imagination. In shattering these old stereotypes, he freed me to think hard and to write poetry, to argue for the resurrection and compose hymns to Christ, to smash an argument and hug a friend, to demand a definition and use a metaphor.
Lewis gave me an intense sense of the “realness” of things. The preciousness of this is hard to communicate. To wake up in the morning and be aware of the firmness of the mattress, the warmth of the sun’s rays, the sound of the clock ticking, the sheer being of things (“quiddity” as he calls it). He helped me become alive to life. He helped me see what is there in the world—things that, if we didn’t have, we would pay a million dollars to have, but having them, ignore. He made me more alive to beauty. He put my soul on notice that there are daily wonders that will waken worship if I open my eyes. He shook my dozing soul and threw the cold water of reality in my face, so that life and God and heaven and hell broke into my world with glory and horror.
He exposed the sophisticated intellectual opposition to objective being and objective value for the naked folly that it was. The philosophical king of my generation had no clothes on, and the writer of children’s books from Oxford had the courage to say so.
You can’t go on “seeing through” things forever. The whole point of seeing through something is to see something through it. It is good that the window should be transpar¬ent, because the street or garden beyond it is opaque. How if you saw through the garden too? It is no use trying to “see through” first principles. If you see through everything, then everything is transparent. But a wholly transparent world is an invisible world. To “see through” all things is the same as not to see. (CSL)
Oh, how much more could be said about the world as C. S. Lewis saw it and the way he spoke. He has his flaws, some of them serious. But I will never cease to thank God for this remark¬able man who came onto my path at the perfect moment.
A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
I just finished a book that upon closing it, I felt like it finished me in a sense. A quiet meditative book that reached down and stirred the deep waters in me. It’s Marilynne Robinson’s 2005 Pulitzer prize winner Gilead, given to me by my friend Andrew Peterson.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
It’s true he was a gift. Lewis has left his footprints in my journey. He remains my favorite author, and I find myself wishing I thought so well. He did have some major theological flaws, but proves that Jesus uses us where we are.
also Piper is really good, and worth a read.
I’ve never read anything by Piper, but it’s obvious I need to. Thanks Mr. Smith.
Lewis is also my favourite writer and one of the strongest inlfuences on my life, I do not know where I would be now if I had not read “Out of the Silent Planet”. Everytime I get confused about theology and have doubts about the faith, I always go back to the basics he established in “Mere Christianity” and it calms my soul. I guess the serious deficiencies in Lewis are attributed to the fact that he was an Anglican and not evangelical, his view of Scripture and justification by faith is far different from the evangelical norm. It’s funny that his influence seems to be strongest among evangelicals though.
“Til We Have Faces” is the one I keep coming back to.
I read it when I was 19 and thought, “This seems true to me. But I don’t understand it. I need to read this again in ten years.”
Just have never had any book of fiction or philosophy (even ones I’ve loved and grown with and from) hit me in such a sublime sort of way.
E, that’s a much more mature response than I would have had at that age
Not sure why, but Lewis’ fiction has always caught me and moved me in a way that his essays never did. Perhaps I need a more dedicated attention span.
Peter,
No, I think with fiction Lewis is able to slip past our theological dragons. He articulates his philosophical positions in his fiction, but in a more subtle way. So much so that as I read the Narnia stories to the kids I would sometimes choke up at the beauty of it. –which the kids probably thought “Dad’s losing it!” (Little did they know I never had it to lose.)
Another cool thing about the Narnia stories, he anticipated my kids questions. That always tickled me. They would ask something and a paragraph or two later he’d answer.
Sam,
Nice post. Lewis is a gem. I remember being a wee lad sitting with the adults on Sunday night as one of the local doctors opined on Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, A Grief Observed and Problem of Pain. I didn’t catch much during those lessons other than the awe the adults had for these works.
Like you, it was “Mere Christianity” that gripped me next. In college and beyond I played the prodigal to the hilt. Lewis was one the writers calling me back home. I’m with you on the chronological snobbery. That has always been a favorite ”Lewis-ism.”
Have you read Sayer’s bio on Lewis yet (“Jack”)? His reflections on Lewis are very moving. As for his flaws, after reading this book I found Lewis to be more orthodox or conservative than he sometimes is portrayed. Perfect? By no means. He was just another sinner like the rest of us. Real? Absolutely. Truly a beautiful mind.
I agree with you guys about the impact CSL has had. And Till We Have Faces is my favorite CSL book, I think. Definitely my favorite of his fiction.
Tony,
I think you’re answering JP’s comments, but I have similar feelings for sure. Mere Christianity has lost a little of its power on me, but it was huge in my life the first time I read it.
I have read Jack and I thought it was outstanding. I came to the same conclusion you did, that Lewis was more “on target” than I had previously thought. He was a normal man and grew and changed his mind, so many of his quotes may have been early opinions that matured.
He was no flake, that’s for certain. He was kind, and considerate, but was revealed in that book as a man with clarity, in contrast to the nebulous pseudo-moralism that was popular (and still is).
Thanks, Tony.
I remember with great fondness sitting in my room in South Africa reading Surprised by Joy and just feeling this sense of connection (even though so much was over my head) that was transcendent. This was my sort of man. I would grow up loving these words and loving the God who overwhelmed this man’s mind and soul.
Sam,
Oops!
Piper and Lewis are in my top 5 favorite authors. Every Christian should devote their lives to reading everything these men have written (and in the case of Piper, everything he will write in years to come).
I thank God for these men.
C.S. Lewis, as much as any author, defined Christianity for me. If Lewis says it, I sit down and grapple hard with his viewpoint. For instance, Lewis’ view of Scripture forced me to sit down and really flesh out my own and not just parrot cliches. Lewis’ mind is the clearest I have ever encountered, and it was remarkably free from arrogance and presumption. Of course, he learned from the best. That “quiddity” is the very essence of George MacDonald that Lewis extols in his introduction to his Anthology. Theologically speaking MacDonald would pose the question (as he often did), “Is it the man who is permeated with the Spirit of God who is more likely to be correct in his thinking, or the man who is not?” MacDonald himself is perhaps the greatest example of this. How can anyone say they have the right opinion unless they have first experienced the right kind of Life?
Sam,
I’ve probably read Lewis more than any other author. Not even probably - without question. I’ve read a little of John Piper. I do love how Lewis combined logical thought and poetry, hard-nosed realism and a sense of romance about the universe.
Lewis is breathtakingly logical and very emotive at the same time. I would go as far as to call him the greatest Christian author. It is odd, though, that Piper is such a fan, since Lewis strongly and logically refutes Calvinism in Mere Christianity.
There are nuances in C S Lewis’ theological flaws.
For instance, he shouldn’t have said that the Bible has errors in it, but it’s not enough for us to just say that. There are details. He came to that conclusion by trying to reconcile the imprecatory Psalms with Jesus’ commands to love and pray for our enemies (see ‘Reflections on the Psalms’). He used Scripture to judge Scripture, however wrong his conclusion.
Many of us have orthodox views about Scriptures, but we haven’t fought for them (unlike @Benjamin Wolaver or the weeping prophet). If prophet Jeremiah had orthodox views he fought for them, first through unorthodoxy - accusing God of deceiving him (Jeremiah 20:7)
Throughout high school I could be depended on to begin my sentences with “C.S. Lewis once wrote/said.” To my taste, his poetry is lackluster, but his prose, both scholarly and narrative, is fantastic.
Piper seems dry in comparison, but my experience of him is rather limited. I did enjoy A Hunger for God.
Lewis (particularly his Mere Christianity and God in the Dock) was also a major part of my early Christian walk - I became a believer my senior year of high school, and was fortunate enough to be among a group of Lewis fans.
I still remember the actual chills that went through me when I first read the scene in Perelandra where Ransom finally realized “that there was a proper object for hate”, and that he’d have to contend physically with Weston/Satan as well as rhetorically. It was one of the first times I recall a piece of literature affecting me that way.
I still find myself quoting him (or at least referring to him) every couple of weeks.
I will say that I think it is a curious irony that those of Piper’s religious persuasion continually laud people like Lewis, Chesterton, Tolkien, and even Buechner, and yet draw a line at their theology.
Now, by any standard, the way a man thinks about God (theology) is a core tenet of his mind and belief. When C.S. Lewis describes the “good infection” in Mere Christianity, or Chesterton defends Catholicism, or MacDonald goes after penal substitution, they are not have “a moment of insanity” and jumping off the reservation. They are expressing a pillar of their worldview.
What strikes me about all these thinkers is that they have a spirit about them, an excellence of mind and soul that many Christian writers today would give their left arm to have. I went to a class once named after Chesterton’s book Orthodoxy. The class instructor lauded Chesterton and hearkened to his spirit as the guiding light of the class. He then proceeded to introduce us to a variety of “correct” authors who totally disagreed with everything Chesterton stood for.
So, whether or not these men are 100% right, I find generally speaking that they hold far more wit, clarity, reason, grace, insight, and dare I say it, spiritual weight than those who have dotted all their theological i’s and crossed all their t’s. Which begs the question: just who should guide our thinking about Christianity anyway? The ones who are “always correct” or the ones who, by their own admission, sometimes got it wrong?
Benjamin,
Great points! I love this part…
So, whether or not these men are 100% right, I find generally speaking that they hold far more wit, clarity, reason, grace, insight, and dare I say it, spiritual weight than those who have dotted all their theological i’s and crossed all their t’s. Which begs the question: just who should guide our thinking about Christianity anyway? The ones who are “always correct” or the ones who, by their own admission, sometimes got it wrong?
I’d say both filtered through the lens of Scripture empowered by the Spirit. He leads us into all truth and because of that I can listen to many different voices and yet still hear Jesus speaking. As Rich Mullins used to say “God spoke through Balaam’s ass and He’s been speaking through asses ever since.”
Love,
Eeyore
What Toneeyore said.
[...] betydd mye for min forståelse av mange ting og åpnet øynene mine gjennom skrivingen hans. Fra rabbitroom: He demonstrated for me and convinced me that rigorous, precise, penetrating logic is not opposed [...]
Thanks, Sam! This is a shot in the arm of the world’s infections.
I read everything I can get my hands on from Lewis… and I hold such a high regard for Piper that reading this review was delightful!
Thank you!
My favorite Lewis is Perelandra, with A Grief Observed making a close second. Piper is fantastic at times and less so at others. His preaching is probably better than his writing.
I am commenting on the above comment - I love CS Lewis and hope to read everything he has written. I have not read A Grief Observed but look forward to it.
Tony Herringer/Eeyore: I could not have said it better myself! (I have repeated that Mullins’ quote daily for years!)
In the same way we are describing Lewis and his strengths/failings, Rich Mullins led me in the development of my theology—opening doors I never would have thought to walk through, explaining concepts I would later find elaborated on but not necessarily improved in my textbooks, and challenging me to fuse an awareness of God’s mystery/transcendence and nearness/immanence in everything that I do, no matter where I find it or what age it comes from. All impossible without the work of the Spirit, guided by the Word. We humans need both—fallible human working with infallible God—what a mystery and a gift!
Which IS funny, because Rich himself was appalled that we should consider a musician to have authority on faith and practice (”I know a lot of us, and we don’t know jack about anything”) but that didn’t stop him from using the gifts God gave him to educate us. I think it’s the same whether one is an author, teacher, artist, accountant, professor, or shoe-shiner. We give it our best go wherever we are at…and God, as He sees fit, takes care of the rest. Lewis just had a lot more of it down than most of us! The important part was he was faithful in sharing what he had learned. We’re all learning.
Thank you, God, for MacDonald, Chesterton, Tolkien, Lewis, Mullins, Piper, Balaam’s ass…and the rest of us that don’t have it down but are still trying…
____________
Rich Mullins—”It always scares me when I talk to you guys and you think so highly of Christian music, contemporary Christian music especially. Because I kinda go, I know a lot of us, and we don’t know jack about anything. Not that I don’t want you to buy our records and come to our concerts. I sure do. But you should come for entertainment. If you really want spiritual nourishment, you should go to church. Those people care about you, and you don’t have to buy a ticket. If you really want spiritual nourishment, you should read the Scriptures. It’ll confuse you to death practically, but you’re gonna die anyway, so why not go out doing something good?”
Thistlefur,
Great name! Thanks. That last Mullins quote was partially quoted by my wife the other day. He is another person that has had a big influence on my life.
I love how our conversations on some of these topics continue to linger. I’ve not had as much time to visit of late, but this is still my favorite Internet destination.
I have enjoyed reading the comments, and am glad to have stumbled upon this site today. On any other subject I might have been content to just read what others have written, but I must add my voice to this subject. Having come to Christ at a very lonely time of my life over 30 years ago, when I had just moved and made a major life transition, C.S. Lewis truly discipled me in the faith through his writings. I find the allusions herein to his not being theologically up to the mark amusing. In the decades of my faith journey, it is my personal (and admittedly subjective) experience that those who put the most emphasis on ‘correct’ doctrine or theology have a shaky grasp of grace - at least in a practical sense (or towards those with whom they disagree). Upon the publication of the edition of Mere Christianity that I read those many years ago, CSL addressed critics who were upset with him for not endorsing or condemning various denominational doctrines. His response gave me the image that has sustained my willingness to keep trying to play my part in the Body of Christ despite some of the just plain nonsense I have heard or seen folks engage in over their doctrinal differences (don’t even get me started on political differences!). Speaking of the church, Lewis wrote:
“It is at her centre, where her truest children dwell, that each communion is really closest to every other in spirit, if not in doctrine. And this suggests that at the centre of each there is something, or a Someone, who against all divergences of belief, all differences of temperament, all memories of mutual persecution, speaks with the same voice.”
In my mind’s eye, it portrays the Body of Christ like a wheel (an image I think I got from Lewis as well - not sure where). Christ is the hub, the center, and various denominations, etc. are like spokes. On each spoke, those closest to the center are divided from other spokes by a very small distance. It is only as individuals on the different spokes get further from the center - and less focused on Christ - that their differences become worth noting. And unfortunately, more visible to those outside. You see where this is going….
BTW - If you haven’t yet read Lewis’s various books of letters, they are well worth your time. In fact, I plan to start on a long overdue re-reading of some of my favorites. Thanks for stirring the pot!