I've been reading C. S. Lewis'
Surprised by Joy recently, and several quotes have gotten my attention in this account of his conversion from atheism to Christ. So, with some comments, here are the quotes.
"In reading Chesterton, as in reading MacDonald, I did not know what I was letting myself in for. A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. There are traps everywhere--'Bibles laid open, millions of surprises,' as Herbert says, 'fine nets and strategems.' God is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous." (p. 191)
I love the image painted here. Lewis is trying his best to maintain a reasonable atheism as his philosophy of life, but even in the realm of literature he seems to butt up against the idea of God constantly. He cannot escape the divine person he calls "the Adversary." In fact, I think this image is appropriate. God, the creator of the universe, is constantly trying to "trap" us in the net of his grace. He wants a relationship with us so much that he is willing to be (in Lewis' words) unscrupulous in his pursuit of us. Atheists be warned, God has laid a trap for you. He is on the hunt, and reason will not keep you safe from him. In fact, as Lewis describes it, reason itself is one of the traps God uses to catch us.
"Really, a young Atheist cannot guard his faith too carefully. Dangers lie in wait for him on every side. . . . For the first time I examined myself with a seriously practical purpose. . . . Idealism can be talked, and even felt; it cannot be lived. It became patently absurd to go on thinking of 'Spirit' as either ignorant of, or passive to, my approaches. Even if my own philosophy were true, how could the initiative lie on my side? My own analogy, as I now first perceived, suggested the opposite: if Shakespeare and Hamlet could ever meet, it must be Shakespeare's doing. Hamlet could initiate nothing. . . . The real terror was that if you seriously believed in even such a 'God' or 'Spirit' as I admitted, a wholly new situation developed. . . . I was to be allowed to play at philosophy no longer. It might, as I say, still be true that my 'Spirit' differed in some way from 'the God of popular religion.' My Adversary waived the point. It sank into utter unimportance. He would not argue about it. He only said, 'I amd the Lord'; 'I am that I am'; 'I am.' . . . . People who are naturally religious find difficulty in understanding the horror of such a revelation. Amiable agnostics will talk cheerfully about 'man's search for God.' To me, as I then was, they might as well have talked about the mouse's search for the cat." (pp. 226-227)
Lewis had come to the philosophical conclusion that a "Spirit" existed beyond mere natural existence, and now that very "Spirit" was interfering with Lewis' life and thought. The very idea unnerved him. He did not want such an interference, he wanted his soul to remain his own personal possession. Now, however, he was coming to the reasonable conclusion that such a wish is practically impossible. He could not live without interference from the divine. Lewis continues:
"Doubtless, by definition, God was Reason itself. But would he also be 'reasonable' in that other, more comfortable, sense? Not the slightest assurance on that score was offered me. Total surrender, the absolute leap in the dark was demanded. . . . The demand was not even 'All or nothing.' I think that stage had been passed, . . . Now the demand was simply 'All.'" (p. 228)
Given his own thoughts and attempts to live his rational philosophy, Lewis ended in one of God's traps. He could not find a way around the practical conclusion that if a divine "Spirit" existed, he/she/it had the right to demand something of humans. At least, that is how it reads to me. This realization of God's all encompassing claim on humanity caused a crisis for Lewis. What to do? He even uses the words "That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me." His response?
"I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. . . . who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance to escape? The words . . . compel them to come in, . . .properly understood, . . . plumb the depth of Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation." (pp. 228-229)
I love the way Lewis expresses himself here, and I am inclined to agree with him. Lewis the atheist has come face-to-face with the realization that Someone may be there, Someone who has a prior claim on humanity. It subsequently frightens him and concerns him, but he sees no recourse but surrender. Is he right?
What do you think?
I encourage you to get this frank book and read a description of a conversion that is quite unlike that of St. Augustine.
Thanks for reading!