Angle of Approach: C. S. Lewis

A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. . . . God is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous.C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

Here's how I begin my new book on C. S. Lewis and his crises...

I am writing this book for one primary purpose. This is not a biography of C. S. Lewis, a critical denunciation of his theology, nor a piece of hagiography. Instead I am addressing the question of why Lewis remains so popular, selling more books today than when he died in 1963, and why, after decades of reading his work, he still speaks to me. Here’s my answer: Lewis’s voice still resonates because his crises and their resolutions in his work reflect our own crises and guide us toward resolution.

Though not writing a biography, I will begin by telling the story of Lewis’s life through the troubles and complexities that shaped him. I will then pursue his thought through his writings—which is what he’s best known for—and the way his books, articles, and published addresses offer us access to his wisdom. I approach it this way because Lewis’s crises informed his writing, and they give it the power that still resonates today for his readers.

A Brief, Fragmentary Post (Or Maybe Riposte) From and On C. S. Lewis

Continuing in my series of blogs with excerpts from my new book on C. S. Lewis. This one is a bit of a fragment...

C. S. Lewis once remarked that the contemporary atheists of his day made him embarrassed for atheism, especially as he remembered his beloved tutor, William “Kirk” Kirkpatrick. “The anonymous donor who now sends me anti-God magazines hopes, no

WWCS? What Would Clive Say?

doubt, to hurt the Christian in me; he really hurts the ex-Atheist. I am ashamed that my old mates (which matters much more) Kirk’s old mates should have sunk to what they are now.” (Surprised by Joy, 139). 

Would this atheist turned apologist have some rejoinders for the atheism we find today? I think I know where he’d begin. 

In Lewis’s primary works (particularly from the ‘40s), I have discerned a four-part apologetic structure. First of all, in order to even begin steps toward belief, we have to see that there is more to the world than just material stuff. Lewis argues that naturalism or materialism, which is the idea that there is just brute matter, is self-defeating because rational thinking is impossible if we are pure materialists. Secondly, having established that there is more than nature, Lewis proceeded to something more personal or existential—by which I mean ideas that relate to our existence. Human beings seek something that this world cannot satisfy, which points to a God beyond this world. (Lewis established what he called the numinous and later identified with his own quest for joy.) Next, if there is something more than this world has to offer, Lewis moved toward the argument that, like the laws of nature, there exists a law or rule about right and wrong (or the law of nature). It is perceived in the conscience of all human beings and points to the God who created that law within us. Put another way, joy and beauty are tied to morality. Finally, his argument becomes specifically Christian: Jesus Christ is, not only the fulfillment of human myths, but also of our human quest for joy and moral truth. Lewis argues that Jesus must be one of three options: liar, Lord, or lunatic. Lewis concludes that the only reasonable answer is that he is Lord.

Why I Like C.S. Lewis's Writings

The new book, C. S. Lewis and the Crisis of a Christian, is about to drop into the hands of the waiting world (I obviously say that tongue in cheek), and that occasion brought to mind one of the characteristics of Lewis's writings that make his books land--that make them speak to us. Here's an excerpt from chapter 7.

C. S. Lewis always maintained a healthy and sustained understanding of life as it is lived by all human beings: marked by disappointment and depression, suffering and trials, as well as the prospect of death, which we can all see and which none of us will escape. I suspect his setting in life—his teaching at two secular universities, Oxford and Cambridge—kept him mindful of those that never walked inside Magdalen College’s chapel or read the pages of the King James Bible as a devotional practice.

Here was a man who relished a good walk, a pint of beer with his friends, and reading exceptional books. Here was a man who also described personal crises not limited to believers in Christ, like sorrow over the death of a friend in battle and disappointment over never achieving recognition as a poet. Indeed, the Bible itself recognizes the destiny of all humankind and its sorrows: “Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7). For this reason, I continue to turn to Lewis because, frankly, I’m not always drawn to people that display their spirituality too boldly in their writing or who seem to think that all of life consists of praying, reading Scripture, and singing hymns. Writers who resonate with me acknowledge the mundane things of life, like filling the car with gas; having keys copied at the hardware store; and buying butter, flour, and orange juice at the grocery store. They also acknowledge the hard things in life, like watching your children grow up, realizing your time on earth is also passing, seeing parents age and die, or grasping that dreams you once held will never come to pass.

A Few More Reflections on SinC

I spent three and half years working on Scientists in Congregations (or SinC), and after it was over, I naturally wondered if it made any difference. Was there anything that would continue? And does it matter?

Thankfully, there were several ways that SinC extended its reach beyond the grant period. 96% of our congregations confirmed that they would continue with religion and science ministries. And so it became part of the public face and outreach strategy. For example, I can’t help but recall the Facebook outreach of GC Science at Grace Chapel in Massachusetts, long-term bastion of evangelicalism combined with powerhouse scientists from nearby institutions like MIT and Harvard. Their goal? To have a larger presence than the leading atheists’ Facebook pages. In a couple of years, they expanded an outreach through Facebook into the hundreds of thousands. Specifically, GC Science today has over

535,000 “likes.” (Not to be overly obvious, but a "like" is a very powerful thing on Facebook because whenever GC Science posts, it goes to the Facebook newsfeed of over half million people.) All this adds up to technology in the service of science—somehow that seems right. 

I can’t help ending without a final thought for the ongoing importance of integrating science and faith. Sarah attended one of Bidwell Presbyterian's religion and science conference. After hearing me talk on how Genesis and evolutionary biology can work together, she rushed forward with great enthusiasm and posed a question that still rings in my ears, "Why don't I hear more of this in the pulpit?" As a twenty-something, Sarah's represents demographic in which 30% of her friends have left the church and checked the box “None” in response to the question “What religious affiliation are you?” When asked further, one of the top reasons for these “Nones” is the church’s lack of engagement with science. As a result, most (like 70%) see science clashing with belief. 

I just finished a very careful, scholarly article on “Beliefs About Religion and Science Among Emerging Young Adults in the United States,” by the eminently qualified team of Kyle Longest and Christian Smith. They offered this sobering conclusion, “The most definitive overall trend is that emerging adults tend to believe religion and science conflict, that the two are not compatible.” (For this reason, I'm now engaged in a companion grant project—Science for Emerging, Young Adults—that analyzes attitudes on faith and science among 18-30 year olds and what creates change.) If the church seeks a vibrant future, it must engage science. Indeed, for there to be a future Christian church that can connect with science, it seems to me this topic can’t wait

A Few Reflections on Scientists in Congregations

Just a few months ago, I wrapped up my work as co-director of a three and half year, $2 million grant project, Scientists in Congregations (or SinC). This project funded 37 congregations with over 6,000 members in 25 states (and two other countries) to create programs that catalyzed the engagement of science and faith. 

Time offers the opportunity to reflect. So I've started to meditate on what I've learned. Here's the beginning of those thoughts...

Where did SinC discover an impasse or gaps in understanding science? The facts of science can be daunting. Celebrated MIT historian of science Thomas Kuhn noted 50 years ago that part of being involved in science is to learn its dominant paradigms and procedures. And those are complicated. So few outside of the community “get it.” And conversely, most scientists are neither taught, nor rewarded to communicate to the wider public.

And the reverse is true: few churches asked scientists to reveal their discoveries. SinC also had some discoveries about the task before us, and here I cite the noted Rice sociologist, Elaine Ecklund from Sciencevs. Religion: What Scientists Really Think

Dispelling stereotypes of atheists, reaching out to the spiritual-but-not-religious scientists, and mentoring and involving scientists within faith communities would mean that leaders within houses of worship would need to do a better job of integrating science and scientists within congregational life.

And I repeat: "integrating science and scientists within congregational life" since most scientists don’t feel all that integrated. Fascinating to me were the scientists who declared that the SinC project let them “come out of the closet” (their words). I mean, when over half of church youth are destined for a science-related field and only 1% of youth ministries offer one science-related topic per year, it’s no wonder that becoming a scientist as a churchgoer sometimes seems as supported as starting a career as pawn shop owner. One solution would be for the church to invite scientists to tell us more about their discoveries of this glorious world that God has created.

I’m reminded of my brilliant pastor-theologian colleague at First Presbyterian Church in Boulder Colorado, Carl Hofmann, who pastors in a town that has more PhDs (I’m told) per capita than anywhere else in the country. That presumably means more doctorates in science. We put together a dinner with their planning team in beautiful downtown Boulder nestled just below stunning mountains (but I’m beginning to digress), and the scientists kept telling us, “This feels so confirming to everything I do as a Christian.”

And so it does. And so it should. It would to Nicholas Copernicus, Galileo Galilei, and James Clerk Maxwell. And to John Calvin too, who wrote of insights from authors outside the Biblical texts, 

If we regard the Spirit of God as the sole fountain of truth, we shall neither reject the truth itself, nor despise it wherever it shall appear, unless we wish to dishonor the Spirit of God.

I also discovered that few parishioners had a means of interpreting the Bible as instructive as Calvin’s—one that integrates truth from other fields effectively. The idea that Scripture may not ever be intended, or read through the centuries, as a scientific text—but instead one that radiates profounder meaning—escapes many parishioners. So the people in the pews either leave aside the text as irrelevant or reject science as antithetical to faith. 

SinC worked to provide something beyond these two dismal options. And I'm glad to say it did--it has to be a primary reason that 96% of our congregations told us they would continue programs in science and faith after their grant money ran out.