Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Book 3, Chapter 2: The “Cardinal Virtues"

Do you have to be a great defensive player to steal the football from Brett Favre's hand? During an unsuccessful Packer attempt to defeat Cincinnati on October 30, 2005, the Bengals defense picked off Brett five times. In the Packers’ final drive a fan rushed the field, prompting officials’ whistles and the unwitting number four to hand the ball over to a crazed Bengals fan (Brett thinking he was a referee). The guy danced toward the endzone with the ball and a confidence that would make Al Harris envious.
The difference between this athlete wannabee and a real football player illustrates the difference between someone who can act virtuous and a virtuous person. I think this is what C. S. Lewis is saying in this chapter. The question at hand is: are you virtuous or merely offering a cheap, public imitation of virtue? Take a look at the four virtues:
· Prudence tells even the mass murderer to take his finger off the trigger and run for cover. It is not morally neutral. You need not have advanced intelligence in order to be prudent, but you cannot be prudent without thinking good thoughts.
· Temperance calls the drunk to be "responsible," step away from the bar and call for a designated driver. Even pagans recognize the need to say no to yourself. Lewis's comments may disturb you if you are a "teetotaler," but you cannot argue with him as he compares intemperance with alcohol to intemperance with golf or your dog (or Halo or the next episode of 24).
· Justice moves crackheads and other criminals to take to the streets and riot when a jury fails to condemn an officer accused of racial profiling and using excessive force.
· Fortitude allows a basketball star who cannot control his gambling habit to lead his team to victory, scoring 38 points even though he is terribly sick with the flu.
Maybe the real issue in all of this is that recognizing the virtues and having the capacity to display them are two different things. Our sinfulness moves us to muster enough flesh to display one or two of the virtues so we can condemn others who haven't arrived. Condemnation serves as camouflage for the lack of virtue in other areas.
· Prudence tells even the mass murderer to take his finger off the trigger and run for cover. It is not morally neutral. You need not have advanced intelligence in order to be prudent, but you cannot be prudent without thinking good thoughts.
· Temperance calls the drunk to be "responsible," step away from the bar and call for a designated driver. Even pagans recognize the need to say no to yourself. Lewis's comments may disturb you if you are a "teetotaler," but you cannot argue with him as he compares intemperance with alcohol to intemperance with golf or your dog (or Halo or the next episode of 24).
· Justice moves crackheads and other criminals to take to the streets and riot when a jury fails to condemn an officer accused of racial profiling and using excessive force.
· Fortitude allows a basketball star who cannot control his gambling habit to lead his team to victory, scoring 38 points even though he is terribly sick with the flu.
Maybe the real issue in all of this is that recognizing the virtues and having the capacity to display them are two different things. Our sinfulness moves us to muster enough flesh to display one or two of the virtues so we can condemn others who haven't arrived. Condemnation serves as camouflage for the lack of virtue in other areas.
What do you think? How does a person know whether he or she is in the “game” and not just putting on a show?
Friday, December 07, 2007
Book 3, Chapter 1: The Three Parts of Morality

C.S. Lewis compares directing human behavior to directing a fleet of ships. In the first place, the ships must get along with one another. In the second place, the ships must be mechanically operable. Finally, they must be directed by a noble commander.
We see how profound this illustration is when we apply it to our lives in God's world. The civilized world spends most of its time trying to get the first part in order. We point the ships in the direction we want them to go and assume all is well. For instance, organizations like the United Nations would have us lay down our arms and just be nice. Since most of us do not like killing, this purpose seems noble. Lining the ships up so they don't collide seems sufficient until we see that people continue to kill each other even after they have promised not to. This is what takes us to the second part of Lewis's illustration.
People get along well with each other when they share a common purpose—that is—the internal driving force is a shared one. If you want the ships in your fleet to stop running into each other, their engine rooms and steering mechanisms must be properly tuned. When working with people we might agree with Paul and say that they need to be "one in spirit and purpose."
But more information shows us why this stool needs a third leg. What if you successfully keep the ships from colliding by uniting them in purpose (parts one and two) but find that their purpose is directed by an evil leader intent on destroying every other fleet of ships in the ocean? It really does make a difference who owns the ships. We wrongly assume that our vessels are independent of all the others and that our own behavior makes no difference as long as we allow the other ships to stay afloat. But this is not the case if we are owned by another. Lewis puts it this way: "If somebody else made me, for his own purposes, then I shall have a lot of duties which I should not have if I simply belonged to myself."
Here is why I think this chapter is very relevant you. You are at the point in your life when you are making decisions about relationships with the opposite sex, establishing standards for your personal entertainment and setting priorities for the use of your time, treasure and talents. It is very difficult to have other people tell you what kind of standards to set, but you must remember that you are not your own. Be patient with parents and institutions who apparently want to control your life. Is it possible that they have a better picture than you of where the Admiral wants his ships to go (or not go)? Our Great Commander designed the ships and not only knows how they should run, he knows where the mission will take them. As I told a friend who was destroying his life: "You were built for better purposes."
We see how profound this illustration is when we apply it to our lives in God's world. The civilized world spends most of its time trying to get the first part in order. We point the ships in the direction we want them to go and assume all is well. For instance, organizations like the United Nations would have us lay down our arms and just be nice. Since most of us do not like killing, this purpose seems noble. Lining the ships up so they don't collide seems sufficient until we see that people continue to kill each other even after they have promised not to. This is what takes us to the second part of Lewis's illustration.
People get along well with each other when they share a common purpose—that is—the internal driving force is a shared one. If you want the ships in your fleet to stop running into each other, their engine rooms and steering mechanisms must be properly tuned. When working with people we might agree with Paul and say that they need to be "one in spirit and purpose."
But more information shows us why this stool needs a third leg. What if you successfully keep the ships from colliding by uniting them in purpose (parts one and two) but find that their purpose is directed by an evil leader intent on destroying every other fleet of ships in the ocean? It really does make a difference who owns the ships. We wrongly assume that our vessels are independent of all the others and that our own behavior makes no difference as long as we allow the other ships to stay afloat. But this is not the case if we are owned by another. Lewis puts it this way: "If somebody else made me, for his own purposes, then I shall have a lot of duties which I should not have if I simply belonged to myself."
Here is why I think this chapter is very relevant you. You are at the point in your life when you are making decisions about relationships with the opposite sex, establishing standards for your personal entertainment and setting priorities for the use of your time, treasure and talents. It is very difficult to have other people tell you what kind of standards to set, but you must remember that you are not your own. Be patient with parents and institutions who apparently want to control your life. Is it possible that they have a better picture than you of where the Admiral wants his ships to go (or not go)? Our Great Commander designed the ships and not only knows how they should run, he knows where the mission will take them. As I told a friend who was destroying his life: "You were built for better purposes."
What do you think?
Monday, November 05, 2007
Book 2, Chapter 5: The Practical Conclusion
This may be one chapter in which you will find disagreement with C. S. Lewis (sacramental view of baptism and communion). Please don't throw the rest of the chapter out, however. He roars back like a fiery, Calvinistic evangelist and says this: "[The Christian] does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us; just as the roof of a greenhouse does not attract the sun because it is bright, but becomes bright because the sun shines on it." Notice the warning Lewis gives at the end of the chapter: "When the author walks on to the stage the play is over. God is going to invade, all right: but what is the good of saying you're on His side then, when you see the whole natural universe melting away like a dream..." The question for discussion: When, in our desire to win a person to Christ, does it become necessary to warn them about hell?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Book 2, Chapter 4: The Perfect Penitent
In this chapter Lewis is answering the two crucial questions answered first in the Gospels: "Who is Jesus Christ?" and "What did he do?" On the first reading it looks like Lewis is downplaying theology. Quite the opposite is true. While he is hesitant to dig deep (remember his target audience), his bare-bones presentation calls the reader to embrace the death of Christ on his own behalf. That is theology. A chapter summary would have to be what Lewis calls "the catch." He says: "Only a bad person needs to repent: only a good person can repent perfectly. The worse you are the more you need it and the less you can do it. The only person who could do it perfectly would be a perfect person—and he would not need it.” Two questions for you: First, how does this knowledge that we are calling sinners to do what they have no power to do affect our theology? And, second, how does this affect our attitude when we seek to evangelize lost people?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Mere Christianity, Book 2, Chapter 3: "The Shocking Alternative"
I forgot to blog this last week for all of you non-Facebook people. Sorry. Here it goes:
Lewis gets to the heart of idolatry: men trying to "invent some sort of happiness for themselves outside God, apart from God." It is easy to throw stones at the list of consequences Lewis gives that result from trying to find substitutes to happiness in God: "money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery." I think I should be more concerned about the consequences of my own God substitutes. When I think happiness is bound up in people liking me, I am controlled (and often crushed) by the opinions of others. When I seek joy in things I am convinced I am "way good at," I get depressed when people fall asleep during the sermon or when my Hebrew instructor humbles me with my own ignorance. The answer, then, is found in the "shocking alternative." If I merely admire his teachings I can add Jesus to my shelf full of idols. If he is Lord and God, my joy in him is complete no matter how I perform in the pulpit, the classroom or in front of my peers.
I will try to post Facebook or e-mail comments.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Book 2, Chapter 1: The Rival Conceptions of God
Something I like about this chapter is that, in classic Mere Christianity form, Lewis makes "good" the standard and "bad" the perversion. In other words, even the unspeakable evil around us points us to redemption. God is in the process of making everything right. Be humbled if you are part of the army God is using to rescue captives from the kingdom of darkness. Be humbled if you are having a hard week because your Redeemer is faithful and true. He is going to straighten it out—perhaps using your uncomfortable week as his hammer. "If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning." What do you think?
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