C.S.Lewis on the cover of Time Magazine, 8th September 1947 |
A sermon given during the Sung Eucharist at St George’s Bloomsbury on Sunday 15th December 2024 (the Third Sunday in Advent, Year C). Based on readings from Philippians 4.4-7 and Luke 3.7-18.
“You snakes”!
Not the most polite way of greeting a
whole bunch of people enquiring about baptism, is it?
But that’s exactly how John the Baptist
addresses the crowds who approach him in the wilderness.
His shock-tactics seem part of a strategy
to get these would-be converts to really think. To challenge their worldview;
the fundamental basis of their outlook on and posture in life. To question
rather than blindly follow the position and practices they’ve inherited through
culture and tradition from their ancestors. To work out what they believe and
why it matters, for themselves.
One of the most famous and erudite
accounts of someone who did just that can be found in the writings of Clive
Staples Lewis.
Max McLean, the Panamanian born American
Actor who has spent the best part of his life portraying the author on stage
and screen has said that Lewis went from being the most “vigorous debunker of
religion to the most respected Christian writer apologist of the 20th
century”.
McLean stars in the short film “The Most Reluctant Convert” directed by
Norman Stone. An adaptation of a one-man play, it charts the twists and turns
as Lewis’ worldview changed. His emotional and intellectual journey from
atheism to Christianity. It’s captivating viewing - and well worth looking up.
The film opens by explaining Lewis’
ardent atheism as being rooted in the philosophy of materialism. The belief
that all life - including conscious thought - is the product of the interaction
between material things.
Lewis challenges the notion that God
created the universe by highlighting how utterly dreadful it appears to be.
Devoid of life for the most part. A cold, sterile vacuum - and the microscopic
proportion of the universe that can sustain life is characterised by one life
form preying on another. Nature, red in tooth and claw, he said, is a sinking
ship.
How could humans attribute this pitiful
existence to a wise and benevolent creator? He asked.
Lewis’ melancholy was deeply engrained.
His father, he said, had ‘no talent for happiness’ - unlike his mother, who
died when he was a young boy.
Perhaps this loss - and later the
recurring nightmares of life on the frontline during the First World War (a
period he described as a ghastly interruption to rational life) - contributed
to this outlook of unyielding despair as a young adult?
Whatever the reasons, since school days,
Lewis had sought solace in literature. Here he escaped from what he saw as the
darkness of reality and revelled in truth, goodness and beauty in the
thought-worlds of classical sagas and medieval heroic legends.
“Nearly all I loved I believed to be
imaginary; nearly all that I believed to be real, I thought grim and
meaningless” he said.
On a long train journey, one book in particular
“baptised his imagination”. While he couldn’t express it at the time, he later
described the effect as the realisation of the existence of holiness.
Lewis came to understand that if God is
to be rejected because there is so much evil in the universe, to what state is
the universe being compared? Where do the ideals of what life ought to be like
come from?
He began to reject the binary worldview
of materialism - which freed him to see the expanse of the dark night sky not
as cold and lifeless but as a manifestation of the immense scale of God’s
creative act.
Lewis describes this period as a
conversion to Theism rather than Christianity. He was able to conceive of God
as a spirit or force but unable to accept what we call the incarnation – when God
took human flesh. He began to attend his local parish church - not because he
believed - but because he felt he ought to fly the flag for monotheistic
belief.
At Oxford, a late night conversation
with Hugo Dyson and J.R.R. Tolkien - both members of the “Inklings” group who
met to review and critique each other’s works - proved formative. Like Lewis,
both Dyson and Tolkien shared a reverence for Greek myths, Nordic sagas and
Irish legends. They helped Lewis to make a connection between this literature
that he so admired and the biblical account of the incarnation, which, they
argued, was the one true mythology to which all the others pointed; the birth
of Christ being the moment when that mythology became historical reality.
No longer was Lewis’ worldview one that
focussed on the inward - the material, the atomic - but on the outward; towards
the divine and the cosmic. No longer did he retreat to the imagined worlds of
literature to find truth - but looked to a person beyond himself. “To believe
and to pray were the beginning of extroversion.” He said. “I had been…. ‘taken
out of myself.’”
This had a noticeable and transformative
effect. Lewis’ need to find beauty and peace in literature had been driven by a
void that had existed since childhood; “an unsatisfied desire which is itself
more desirable than any other satisfaction.”
Once he had embraced a life in Christ he
realised that what he had been yearning to find - and calling joy - was not the
end in itself, but a sign pointing toward the end. “Joy itself” he wrote,
“turned out to be of no value at all. All the value lay in that of which Joy
was the desiring”.
The film ends showing Lewis in church
again, receiving communion - this time as a believer.
The most reluctant convert had finally
found where joy had been leading him all along.
Like the young C.S.Lewis, the crowds who
followed John out into the wilderness were searching. Driven by unfulfilled desire.
When they heard about the Baptist they thought they had found the lasting joy
they were looking for.
In blunt terms the John tells this
“brood of vipers” that their world-view needs to change.
Baptism is not a tick box exercise on
the road to personal salvation. They’re not on a fast-track to future salvation
because of who they are - and the promises made to their ancestor Abraham in
the past.
Instead, like C.S.Lewis, they need to learn
to seek it beyond themselves. They need to “bear fruits worthy of repentance”
in the present.
He points them to a way of using their
status, money and possessions not to buy moments of fleeting happiness for
themselves - but investing in the loving, compassionate and just relationships
with others.
The key to this about-turn in the way they look at the world is different for
each of them - but, like C.S.Lewis, is to be found hidden in plain sight. Just
as the escapist literature he had spent a lifetime studying proved crucial in
embracing the reality of the incarnation, for tax-collectors and soldiers and
the others in the crowd, John points them towards their own everyday experience
to help them to discover the same truth - and learn to see the face of Christ
into those around us. Like Lewis, John the Baptist knew that next to Christ,
“our neighbour is the holiest object presented to our senses.”
Living such a life of gentleness and
supplication, as the letter to the Philippians puts it, will lead us to a peace
that passes all understanding. When we align ourselves with the worldview of
the incarnation - by being brought out of our imaginary worlds and coming face
to face with the person of Christ - we will rejoice always. Because, like
C.S.Lewis, our search for joy will be over.
We don’t know how many of the crowd
heeded John’s advice.
We do know that in the case of C.S.Lewis
over thirty Christmasses passed by before his worldview aligned with that of
the incarnation. He attended scores of services of Holy Communion before the
barriers to true faith arising from his own life experience could be overcome.
Before he found a way to embrace the person of Christ – the Word made flesh - and
tell the story of the great gift of his sacrificial love in his own
words.
Words which offer great comfort to those
of us who continue to watch and wait for the same transformation in ourselves, this
Advent.
Image : C.S.Lewis
on the cover of Time Magazine 8th September 1947
Links : Download,or Stream ‘The Most Reluctant Convert’
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