C.S. Lewis

Today is the anniversary of Lewis’s death (November 29, 1898 – November 22, 1963), he didn’t quite make it to 65 years old. I can’t recall just how long I’ve been acquainted with Lewis, one’s memory begins to fade, but I’m pretty sure I first read him as a teenager.

While I am drawn to Lewis the writer, to his understanding of the world, of God, of the Church, of the cosmos, as communicated through the written word; I am perhaps more drawn to Lewis the man – to his life, his journey, his passions, his friendships. Can I separate the one from the other? Not really. But I make the distinction because I don’t pretend to be a Lewis scholar, nor do I pretend to be able to marshal Lewis’s apologetic arguments in a finely tuned intellectual array.

But I do so enjoy Lewis’s company – even when I can’t keep up with him. I do enjoy his simple faith, simple in the sense of Mere Christianity (both the book and more importantly the concept). I love visiting Narnia and look forward to being there. I stumble through Till We Have Faces and keep thinking that the next time I read it that the light will go on inside of my understanding. The Great Divorce continues to be a pleasant daytrip, and his essays are good companions. The Weight of Glory is something I think we should all read once a year, and the Space Trilogy is well worth the ride (in terms of stretching what can still be stretched of my thinking and imagination Perelandra is right behind Till We Have Faces). That Hideous Strength is being played out today – I’m sure there are elements that offend sensitivities, perhaps Lewis pushed some stereotypes too far.

As with all of us, Lewis had his flat spots, there are some in Mere Christianity and some more in The Four Loves, and I think in That Hideous Strength. Well, hopefully Lewis and the rest of us do the best we can in the light we have in the grace of Jesus Christ.

The best thing I ever did in terms of Lewis was to invest two or three years reading his letters – ranging from childhood to his final week in November 1963 – I felt as if I had traversed the decades with him and when I came to his last few letters I sensed that I had lost a friend…but of course he is still with me.

I look forward to seeing Lewis in Cair Paravel .