C.S. Lewis on socialism

A prophetic voice for our time

C.S. Lewis speaks:

Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victim may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated, but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

Consider these words in an age when the national deficit gets tripled+ in two months, and moral language is used to force even worse fiscal abuses and future indebtedness on the nation... it's urgent, it must happen, "it's for the good of the people." Note: When politicians start talking about the good of the people meanwhile excluding themselves from the mandated 'good,' it's not good -- benevolence is not the point.

It's the worst kind of hypocrisy and the point is not benevolent. This mind-boggling dept is going somewhere... and the blatant hypocrisy of the leaders should be a neon sign, to those with eyes to see and ears to hear.



All honest Americans should be asking incisively, what is the unspoken chain behind these all these initiatives, in the forms now forced upon us:

• cap-and-trade
• government takeover of industry
• government takeover of finance
• health care 'reform'
• deficit spending
• stimulus

Selah.

The divinity of your task

A mystery of calling

“Come here,” said the Lion. And she had to. She was almost between its paws now, looking straight into its face. But she couldn’t stand that for long; she dropped her eyes.

“Human Child,” said the Lion, “Where is the Boy?”

“He fell over the cliff,” said Jill, and added, “Sir.” She didn’t know what else to call him, and it sounded cheek to call him nothing.

“How did he come to do that, Human Child?”

“He was trying to stop me from falling, Sir.”

“Why were you so near the edge, Human Child?”

“I was showing off, Sir.”

“That is a very good answer, Human Child. Do so no more (and here, for the first time, the Lion’s face became a little less stern) “The Boy is safe. I have blown him to Narnia. But your task will be harder because of what you have done.”

“Please, what task, Sir?” said Jill.

“The task for which I called you and him here, out of your own world.”

This puzzled Jill very much. “It’s mistaking me for someone else,” she thought. She didn’t dare tell the Lion this, though she felt things would get into a dreadful muddle unless she did.

“Speak your thought, Human Child,” said the Lion.

“I was wondering – I mean – could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to – to Somebody – it was a name I wouldn’t know – and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the door open.”

“You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you,” said the Lion.

“Then you are Somebody, Sir?” said Jill.

“I am,” said He. “And now hear your task…”

Selah.

C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair, 18-19.

The life of the warrior

Courteous words or else hard knocks are a warrior’s only language.

The impossibility of the warrior

C.S. Lewis

His journey to Perelandra was not a moral exercise, nor a sham fight. If the issue lay in Maleldil's hands, Ransom and the Lady were those hands. The fate of a world really depended on how they behaved in the next few hours…

The voluble self protested, wildly, swiftly, like the propeller of a ship racing when it is out of the water. The imprudence, the unfairness, the absurdity of it! Did Maleldil want to lose worlds? What was the sense of so arranging things that anything really important should finally and absolutely depend on such a man of straw as himself? And at that moment, far away on Earth, as he now could not help remembering, men were at war, and white-faced subalterns and freckled corporals who had but lately begun to shave, stood in horrible gaps or crawled forward in deadly darkness, awaking, like him, to the preposterous truth that all really depended on their actions; and far away in time, Horatious stood on the bridge, and Constantine settled in his mind whether he would or would not embrace the new religion, and Eve herself stood looking upon the forbidden fruit and the Heaven of Heavens waited for her decision. He writhed and ground his teeth, but could not help seeing. Thus and not otherwise, the world was made. Either something or nothing must depend on individual choices. And if something, who could set bounds to it? A stone may determine the course of a river. He was that stone at this horrible moment which had become the centre of the whole universe. The eldila of all worlds, the sinless organisms of everlasting light, were silent in Deep Heaven to see what Elwin Ransom of Cambridge would do…

Truths like terrible jewels

It was fortunate that something so horrible [as physical combat with the un-man] should be so obviously out of the question. Almost, but not quite, Ransom decreed that whatever the Silence and the Darkness seemed to be saying about this, no such crude, materialistic struggle could possibly be what Maleldil really intended. Any suggestion to the contrary must be only his own morbid fancy. It would degrade the spiritual warfare to the condition of mere mythology. But here he got another check.

Long since on Mars, and more strongly since he came to Perelandra, Ransom had been perceiving that the triple distinction of truth from myth and of both from fact was purely terrestrial - was part and parcel of that unhappy division between soul and body which resulted from the Fall. Even on earth the sacraments existed as a permanent reminder that the division was neither wholesome nor final. The Incarnation had been the beginning of its disappearance. In Perelandra it would have no meaning at all. Whatever happened here would be of such a nature that earth-men would call it mythological. All this he had thought before. Now he knew it. The Presence in the darkness, never before so formidable, was putting these truths into his hands, like terrible jewels.

The divine plan in little details...

"It is not for nothing that you are named Ransom," said the Voice.

And he knew that this was no fancy of his own. He knew it for a very curious reason – because he had known for many years that his surname was derived not from ransom but from Ranolf's son. It would never have occurred to him thus to associate the two words. To connect the name Ransom with the act of ransoming would have been for him a mere pun. But even his voluble self did not now dare to suggest that the Voice was making a play upon words. All in a moment of time he perceived that what was, to human philologists, a merely accidental resemblance of two sounds, was in truth no accident.

The whole distinction between things accidental and things designed, like the distinction between fact and myth, was purely terrestrial. The pattern is so large that within the little frame of earthly experience there appear pieces of it between which we can see no connection, and other pieces between which we can. Hence we rightly, for our use, distinguish the accidental from the essential. But step outside that frame and the distinction drops down into the void, fluttering useless wings. He had been forced out of the frame, caught up into the larger pattern...

"My name also is Ransom," said the Voice.

The nature of the enemy

[Ransom] had full opportunity to learn the falsity of the maxim that the Prince of Darkness is a gentleman. Again and again he felt that a suave and subtle Mephistopheles with red cloak and rapier and a feather in his cap, or even the somber tragic Satan out of Paradise Lost, would have been a welcome release from the thing he was actually doomed to watch. It was not like dealing with a wicked politician at all: it was much more like being set to guard an imbecile or a monkey or a very nasty child… It showed plenty of subtlety and intelligence when talking to the Lady; but Ransom soon perceived that it regarded intelligence simply and solely as a weapon, which it had no more wish to employ in its off-duty hours than a soldier has to do bayonet practice when he is on leave. Thought was for it a device necessary to certain ends, but thought in itself did not interest it. It assumed reason as externally and inorganically as it had assumed Weston's body…

A victory in the impossible

"Mercy," he groaned; and then, "Lord, why me?" But there was no answer.

The thing still seemed impossible. But gradually something happened to him which had happened to him only twice before in his life. It had happened once while he was trying to make up his mind to do a very dangerous job in the last war. It had happened again while he was screwing his resolution to go and see a certain man in London and make to him an excessively embarrassing confession which justice demanded. In both cases the thing had seemed a sheer impossibility: he had not thought but known that, being what he was, he was psychologically incapable of doing it; and then, without any apparent movement of the will, as objective and unemotional as the reading on a dial, there had arisen before him, with perfect certitude, the knowledge “about this time tomorrow you will have done the impossible.”

The same thing happened now…

Selah.

He who loves, sees

The maxim is doubtful, that to know all is to forgive all, but it is an unshakeable truth that to forgive is to know.

He who loves, sees.

C. S. Lewis

Choosing this day to be a stone of glory

At the centre of the universe

C. S. Lewis

His journey to Perelandra was not a moral exercise, nor a sham fight. If the issue lay in Maleldil's hands, Ransom and the Lady were those hands. The fate of a world really depended on how they behaved in the next few hours. ...

The voluble self protested, wildly, swiftly, like the propeller of a ship racing when it is out of the water. The imprudence, the unfairness, the absurdity of it! Did Maleldil want to lose worlds? What was the sense of so arranging things that anything really important should finally and absolutely depend on such a man of straw as himself? And at that moment, far away on Earth, as he now could not help remembering, men were at war, and white-faced subalterns and freckled corporals who had but lately begun to shave, stood in horrible gaps or crawled forward in deadly darkness, awaking, like him, to the preposterous truth that all really depended on their actions; and far away in time, Horatious stood on the bridge, and Constantine settled in his mind whether he would or would not embrace the new religion, and Eve herself stood looking upon the forbidden fruit and the Heaven of Heavens waited for her decision. He writhed and ground his teeth, but could not help seeing. Thus and not otherwise, the world was made. Either something or nothing must depend on individual choices. And if something, who could set bounds to it? A stone may determine the course of a river. He was that stone at this horrible moment which had become the centre of the whole universe...

C. S. Lewis, Perelandra

Good Friday: The Straight meets the Crooked

by C.S. Lewis

Note: Lewis received complaints for his use of the word “damned.” He understood the criticism as he was opposed to swear words in principle, but he responded to the effect that he did not use frivolous swearing; he rather used the word as it was intended: if something was truly of the damned, then it was not swearing to call it what it was.

When the Straight meets the Crooked

Meanwhile, in the Objective Room, something like a crisis had developed between Mark and Professor Frost. As soon as they arrived there Mark saw that the table had been drawn back. On the floor lay a large crucifix, almost life size, a work of art in the Spanish tradition, ghastly and realistic. “We have half an hour to pursue our exercises,” said Frost looking his watch. Then he instructed Mark to trample on it and insult it in other ways.

Now whereas Jane had abandoned Christianity in early childhood, along with her belief in fairies and Santa Claus, Mark had never believed in it at all. At this moment, therefore, it crossed his mind for the very first time that there might conceivably be something in it…

“But, look here,” said Mark.

“What is it?” said Frost. “Pray be quick. We have only a limited time at our disposal.”

“This,” said Mark, pointing with an undefined reluctance at the horrible white figure on the cross. “This is all surely pure superstition.”

“Well?”

“Well, if so, what is there objective about stamping on the face? Isn’t it just as subjective to spit on a thing like this as to worship it? I mean – damn it all – if it’s only a bit of wood, why do anything about it?”

“That is superficial. If you had been brought up in a non-Christian society, you would not be asked to do this. Of course it is a superstition; but it is that particular superstition which has pressed upon our society for a great many centuries. It can be experimentally shown that it still forms a dominant stem in the subconscious of many individuals whose conscious thought appears to be wholly liberated. An explicit action in the reverse direction is therefore a necessary step towards complete objectivity. It is not a question for a priori discussion. We find it in practice that it cannot be dispensed with.”

Mark himself was surprised at the emotions he was undergoing. He did not regard the image with anything at all like religious feeling. Most emphatically it did not belong to that Idea of the Straight or Normal or Wholesome which had, for the last few days, been his support against what he now knew of the innermost circle at Belbury. The horrible vigor of its realism was, indeed, in its own way as remote from that Idea as anything else in the room. That was one source of his reluctance. To insult even a carved image of such agony seemed an abominable act. But it was not the only source. With the introduction of this Christian symbol the whole situation had somehow altered. The thing was becoming unbearable. His simple antithesis of the Normal and the Diseased had obviously failed to take something into account. Why was the crucifix there? Why were more than half the poison-pictures religious? He had the sense of new parties to the conflict – potential allies and enemies which he had not suspected before. “If I take a step in any direction,” he thought, “I may step over a precipice.” A donkey-like determination to plant hoofs and stay still at all costs arose in his mind.

“Pray make haste,” said Frost.

The quiet urgency of the voice, and the fact that he had so often obeyed it before, almost conquered him. He was on the verge of obeying, and getting the whole silly business over, when the defenselessness of the figure deterred him. The feeling was a very illogical one. Not because its hands were nailed and helpless, but because they were only made of wood and therefore even more helpless, because the thing, for all its realism, was inanimate and could not in any way hit back, he paused. The unretaliating face of a doll – one of Myrtle’s dolls – which he had pulled to pieces in boyhood, had affected him in the same way and the memory, even now, was tender to the touch.

“What are you waiting for, Mr. Studdock?” said Frost.

Mark was well aware of the rising danger. Obviously, if he disobeyed, his last chance of getting out of Belbury alive might be gone. Even of getting out of this room. The smothering sensation once again attacked him. He was himself, he felt, as helpless as the wooden Christ. As he thought, he found himself looking at the crucifix in a new way – neither as a piece of wood nor as a monument of superstition but as a bit of history. Christianity was nonsense, but one did not doubt that the man had lived and had been executed thus by the Belbury of those days. And that, as he suddenly saw, explained why this image, though not itself an image of Straight or Normal, was yet in opposition to crooked Belbury. It was a picture of what happened when the Straight met the Crooked, a picture of what the Crooked did to the Straight – what it would do to him if he remained straight. It was, in a more emphatic sense than he had yet understood, a cross.

“Do you intend to go on with the training or not?” said Frost. His eye was on the time…

“Do you not hear what I am saying?” he asked Mark again.

Mark made no reply. He was thinking, and thinking hard because he knew, that if he stopped even for a moment, mere terror of death would take the decision out of his hands. Christianity was a fable. It would be ridiculous to die for a religion one did not believe. This Man himself, on that very cross, had discovered it to be a fable. And had died complaining that the God in whom he trusted had forsaken him, in fact, found the universe a cheat. But this raised a question that Mark had never thought of before. Was that the moment at which to turn against the Man? If the universe was a cheat, was that a good reason for joining its side? Supposing the Straight was utterly powerless, always and everywhere certain to be mocked, tortured, and finally killed by the Crooked, what then? Why not go down with the ship? Here Mark began to be frightened by the very fact that his fears seemed have momentarily vanished. They had been a safeguard…they had prevented him, all his life, from making mad decisions like that which he was now making as he turned to Frost and said,

“It’s all bloody nonsense, and I’m damned if I do any such thing.”

C. S. Lewis, The Descent of the Gods, That Hideous Strength (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., 1976), 334ff.

The world’s Objectivity Room

We live in a world which, in its own powerful and seductive way, requires *objectivity training* for those who would be feted and successful. Look at the manicured and gelded news anchors – look at their “objective” references to religion and Christ, which gradually trample His person with subtle mockery and suspended disdain.

Listen to the NPR-like sotto voce when referencing Christ; look at the chosen caricatures of media and Christ; look at the breathless embracement of Jesus Seminar pseudo-scholarship, or the revisionist DaVinci Code: raw Gnostic fiction embraced as new truth.

It’s what happens when the Straight meets the Crooked.

Or, look at how the “objective” media flee the storyline of 2,500 orphans threatened for their faith, because their caregivers stand against a racist caste system – now victims of its unjust court system.

Look at how this militant Indian state can pass an anti-conversion law which specifically makes it a crime for Christians to care for orphans – humanitarian goodness hanged on a cross –, yet ignored with a yawn by those with media power!

Look at how sacrificial caregivers can be imprisoned without investigation or formal charges in court, without due process or bail, held and tortured until their assets are gone and bodies broken…all because they gave care to orphans in an old-caste culture which feeds on those orphans’ de facto slavery, and not a word said!

This is where the Straight meets the Crooked.

The world has its Objectivity Room, and one either accepts its training or Christ: Good Friday shows us the results of choosing Christ. Kota, Rajasthan is no accident.

But we still must stand with Christ, and with those who embrace the Straight. The Crooked may always and everywhere marginalize or torture the Straight, but something tells me the Straight will have the last word…

For the Straight is the Word and is of the Word: the Beginning will have the End.

Selah.

Discipleship transcends comprehension

Discipleship not limited to understanding

Martin Luther presents a high view of discipleship, through the eyes of Jesus, as if Jesus is talking to all of us. Jesus speaks to us:

Child, discipleship is not limited to what you can understand – it must transcend all comprehension. Plunge into the deep waters beyond your own understanding, and I will help you to comprehend...

Not to know where you are going is the true knowledge. In this way Abraham went forth from his father, not knowing where he was going. That is the way of the cross. You cannot find it in yourself, so you must let Me lead you as though you were a blind man.

Not the work which you choose, not the suffering you devise, but the road which is contrary to all that you choose or contrive or desire – that is the road you must take. It is to this path that I call you, and in this sense that you must be my disciple. [1]

Not uti, but frui

When religious professionals tried to put God in a box, Jesus replied, “God is not the God of the dead, but the living.” He is the ever living God, transcending our categories of thought and even our rote religious observance. He will not be put in a coffin of human control. We try to contain God, to manage God, but God ever and always breaks our categories: God will not be managed. As Augustine said, ‘God can never be uti [utilized] but must always be frui [enjoyed and related].’ Uti brings despair and self power, eventual emptiness. Frui brings abiding fruition.

Why? The ever living God shatters our little preconceptions and worlds: He is infinitely more than we would contain ‘in freezing coats of mail’ [Theilicke].

God can only be experienced and related to, not grasped.

He calls us, like Abraham and Sarah, to a land which we know not of: It is here that following God gets uncomfortable. But when we embrace it, as a child, we enter such beauty and such meaning as the world cannot comprehend...

Ever Living God

Perhaps it is best expressed in art form, this dance with the Living God! Tonight I praise Him, with Darlene Zschech and Hillsong:

Ever Living God
Maker of all the earth…
Everlasting King
Our eternal praise belongs to You!

All of the honor
All of the glory to You!

You are wonderful, marvelous, forever
Beautiful, Prince of Peace, Faithful One, forever…


Ever Living God
Maker of all the earth…
Everlasting King
Our eternal praise belongs to You!

All of the honor
All of the glory to You!

You are wonderful, marvelous, forever
Beautiful, Prince of Peace, Faithful One, forever…

Take the place of all honor,
Take the place above all thrones,
Take the place of all power:
You are the One
Glorious!

You are wonderful, marvelous, forever
Beautiful, Prince of Peace, Faithful One, forever…

Take the place of all honor,
Take the place above all thrones,
Take the place of all power:
You are the One
Glorious!

Jesus!

In worship and obedience

There is a place, by the seashore of life, to dance in grace, to release constriction, to release the need to manage God, the need to control Him in safety, to release the false categories of comprehension and social wisdom that we put on Him...and just embrace His greatness, worshiping Him in utter freedom.

In Perelandra, C.S. Lewis presents human temptation as a choice between a fixed land or a life-land that moves with the waves, at the will of Creator. The Tempter tempts the lady to choose the fixed land, where she can manage her next day, her person and wished and wants. But in her spirit she knows that she is called to the wave, to cast herself on the waves and let her Maker bring her to the king, her chosen. And after great battle, she wins out…to the wave and calling…to her intended, great glory!

We can only know God [and destiny] in worship and obedience: two sides of the coin of divine relation.

Thus, the Living God calls each of us to the dance, the wave, with Him. And yes, Jesus still speaks in 21st century calling!

Child, discipleship is not limited to what you can understand – it must transcend all comprehension. Plunge into the deep waters beyond your own understanding, and I will help you to comprehend.

May we join Him there…on the waves, to destiny! Further in and higher up...

Alleluia!

Truth in the union of silence and action

Silence as the basis of true friendship

We live...in a world starved for solitude, silence, and private: and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship.

C. S. Lewis talks about true friendship as stemming from the deepest part of a person, from the secret place of the soul, the inner chambers of true self. True friendship is enabled when two people step into the silent place, face their innermost selves, and then bring that deep internal honesty into face to face connections. Paradoxically, true silence is a basis of high, true friendship.

But, alas! even though our world talks a lot about friendship, it knows nothing of this true silence. We live in a world of non-stop relationships, but where each person in the relation is starved in his or her inner self. And the relationships – even supposed intimate relations – are far less than true. "We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and private: and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship."

It is a fascinating concept. The paradox of true friendship is true silence! I thought of this, and realized that those persons I’ve called true friends …in some degree, through silence, brought the reality of these sacred, inner chambers to the friendship, blessing me.

Then, it struck me: we are asked to do the same with God, and others.

Jesus said something very similar. He said, “When you pray, go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you in open.”

It sounds as if this principle of silence funding true friendship applies even to the divine/human relation! Those whom God would call true friends…are those willing to open to the secret place, in self and before Him, in the sacred chambers of their spirit.

The collectivist temptation

If this is true, we would expect the world to counteract it.

And that is precisely the case.

Lewis goes on to talk about two temptations offered to us in the modern world, regarding spirituality. The first is where the world says, ‘Religion is a private matter, you know!’ And then, through culture, creates a context where the individual – even the good Christian – has no real private life.

When the modern world says to us aloud, 'You may be religious when you are alone', it adds under its breath, 'and I will see to it that you never are alone.' To make Christianity a private affair while banishing all privacy is to relegate it to the rainbow's end or the Greek Calends.

Many good people that I know and admire, are caught right here. They love the Lord and the Lord loves them, but their private lives are under attack, and many of them surrendered long ago…and now create a faith life/language that has no real need for solitude.

The second failure follows up the first. For those who know that faith is exercised in private and private faith must be acted on in order to be true, this temptation then says that true faith is a collective affair: the only real faith is what we do for others; the only true actions are what others bless!

In the second place, there is the danger that real Christians who know that Christianity is not a solitary affair may react against that error by simply transporting into our spiritual life that same collectivism which has already conquered our secular life.

See the great temptation? The spiritual person is thus set up for a highjack in his or her life: only the collectivist action is approved, true calling then can be derailed in religious or family terms…

Truth in union of silence and action

True life, of course, is in the balance of both realities: communal and private.

God calls us to the secret place, but then takes us to the open place in this great inner power. And this is true friendship…for God, and the other humans we love!

Here, Kierkegaard's understanding of silence and the Word is salient. Louise Carroll Keeley artistically rephrases his thoughts on the startling power of true silence:

Silence is not the artificiality of deliberate wordlessness; it is rather attentive listening to the eternal Word amidst the world's noise. Predated by the Word, silence injects into the present its "beneficent power," and because [it is] pregnant with the Word, silence orients one to the future by directing one's action. Silence alone can render one aware that one is constituted by Another. And since what one hears in silence one subsequently does, so far from isolating one from others silence connects one to them.

“Word-soaked silence renders a house a spiritual home, and...Word-fostered joy sheds temptation as joy overcomes the divided mind that temptation always exploits.”

True friendship, and true Christianity, is born and carried on from silence: Word-soaked solitude! And thus, for Kierkegaard, the healing of our modern world begins here in silence. The relation for which we are starved, is here.

The present state of the world and the whole of life is diseased. If I were a doctor and were asked for my advice, I should reply: Create silence.

All will be acquired in stillness and made divine in silence. It is true not only of Psyche's expected child that its future depended on her silence...

Truly it is said that “Christendom has done away with Christianity without being quite aware of it.” Christendom has replaced silence with superficial advice, and exchanged sacred solitude for the oppressive “rightness” of social structure, church or family...

Yet somewhere, the Word calls our names…in silence, offering us the relation and power of that secret place.

Alleluia!

A theology of ghosts

My posts on Gettysburg ghosts have raised some interest and questions. So, here I'll revisit the subject a little bit, encouraging theological dialogue. Do you have some thoughts or stories to add? If so, please do so in the comments section. If you don't want to put your name to them, that's fine...because some of these may be sensitive, surely. At any rate, enjoy!

Biblical ghost stories

Scripture treats at least one ghost sighting as objective, where Saul evidently talked with the spirit of Samuel. There are some troubling aspects to this story, as the spirit of Samuel was beckoned by a medium…so was this truly Samuel, or an entity posing as Samuel? God outlawed the practice of witchcraft in Israel -- so is this an instance where a prophet of God was contacted by a medium, against the law of God?

In spite of these issues, I think the larger point still stands: Scripture treats this spirit sighting in objective terms, as if it really happened. Secondly, it treats medium usage seriously, as if there is something really being contacted, against the will and law of God.

In considering the biblical texts, there is also the oblique reference to ghosts when the disciples sighted Jesus walking on the water of Galilee, at night. “It’s a ghost!” they cried, in mortal fear. Of course, Jesus calmly answered, “It is I,” or “I am.” Jesus did not correct their ‘ghost theology’ though, interestingly.

Also, the passage of the Transfiguration is powerful: the shining link between worlds, where the presence of Christ called forth Moses and Elijah, and they sat talking on the Mountain, to the awe of the disciples…so overwhelmed they wanted to build shrines to the event.

The hermeneutic of revelation

The church fathers treat ghost issues seriously, but not univocally [as on most theological issues, there is variance of opinion]. One thing mentioned, however, was the treatment of ghosts as malevolent, interested in possessing or controlling [live] human subjects. This is interesting…and should be a word of caution to those dabbling in ghost seeking.

I found a corollary story from Gettysburg, related to this. There are a lot of ‘spiritual junkies’ that go to Gettysburg seeking ghosts, seeking contact, both visual and auditory, with the other side. Some of these people, very unwisely, call out to things they cannot see, asking these things to reveal themselves, or to ‘come home’ with them. Very unwise. As this person found out: you have to be careful what you call on…you never know what you are opening up.

I think perhaps the wisest stance, dealing with this whole subject, is to treat it from a standpoint of a close relationship to God through Jesus Christ, the Son, and also from a standpoint of revelation, where God’s revelation informs the phenomenon, and not the phenomena informing one’s spiritual life or beliefs.

The freedom of God

We must also allow for the freedom of God to use people, places and events, both living and dead, for His good purposes. And, ever realize that the veil between worlds is limited, for our good. There is a connection, though…which we would be foolish to deny. The Book of Hebrews presents the saints of the ages, filling the cosmic grandstands, cheering us on as we run the circle track of life.

In this freedom of God, is there ever a ‘good’ ghost encounter?

I would say a potential yes, but only if it is not sought against God’s law, and only if it reflects back into the relation with God, through Christ.

J.B. Phillips and the ghost of Lewis

C.S. Lewis had some fascinating thoughts on this, and he himself appeared in one of the most celebrated and redemptive recorded ghost sightings ever: Moments after his death at Cambridge, he appeared in the bedroom of J.B. Phillips at Oxford [a dear friend of his, the one who translated the Bible in the Phillips translation. Phillips also wrote the fabulous little book, Your God is Too Small].

At the time, J. B. Phillips was in a deep depression that threatened his life. He refused to leave his chambers, refused proper food or exercise, and seriously questioned the love and election of God [in his life]. It was in this state of detachment and depression, leading to his early death…that suddenly, a ruddy and glowing Lewis stood before him, entering his room through closed doors -- a “healthy Lewis, hearty and glowing” as Phillips was later to record.

In this vision, Lewis only spoke only one sentence to Phillips: ‘J.B., it’s not as hard as you think.’ One solitary sentence, the meaning of which is debated! But what is not debated is the effect of that sentence. It snapped Phillips out of his depression, and set him again following God. After Lewis spoke that cryptic sentence, he disappeared.

Phillips came out of his chambers only to find that Lewis had died moments before the appearance, miles away. He pondered this in his heart, with wonder, and never returned to his depression. Now, was this a case of God giving a detour of a soul on the way to heaven to a special friend, to save him? Who knows? But again, it is recorded evidence of the highest order, by persons of the highest order: Lewis and Phillips. It is a ghost story, a benevolent one, to all appearances – actually, not only benevolent, but redemptive [which I would take as an element of authenticity].

Again, we must allow for the freedom of God. This is His world, after all. He set up the physical and moral laws, and yet rules over these sovereignly, in love. What is needed for His children, He spares no expense.

He granted David the very showbread of the Tabernacle, to sustain his body and soul.

Will He grant us less, according to His laws and love?

I think not!

God is not boring!

I recently remarked to a friend that following God is never boring. And she agreed: kingdom life is a wild and wonderful dance, challenging, yes! -- utterly challenging sometimes -- but never boring!

However, many people live between inner anxiety and boredom, anxiety and boredom… and attendant escapism. Most people spend their lives running from their true self, not knowing why.

Humans are instinctively afraid of God breaking into their lives. For when God breaks in, we see not only God, but our true self… and that is disturbing. In seeing true self, we are not happy serving serve false self. And, in such acceptance of God, we lose false control. And we are most comfortable with control!

So we flee the divine encounter. But we then live in unstated boredom, disconnected from vital life… and unconsciously anxious over the lack.

Of course we can’t admit boredom or anxiety!

But it can be seen in any number of ways that humans manage inner pain…calculated risk, adrenaline rush, masking behavior, numbing chemicals and endless activity.

Not far from my PA home is a bridge in WV, the [second] highest bridge in the US. It is an imposing sight, tucked between two mountain ranges, spanning vast height. People have died bungee/chute jumping from this bridge, but others are still compelled to make the jump. One girl from near my hometown usually made the pilgrimage to this bridge, to jump once a year. An intelligent girl, very beautiful… but driven to risk the jump: “Why?” I asked myself. I looked over the edge of that bridge and asked, “Why?” As I’ve grown in understanding, I think I see the answer.

It’s a human issue.

Without this dance of abundant life, without embracing God and our true self, we live our lives between boredom and anxiety. We have to risk our lives [moderately, of course!] to prove that we are alive. But after the jump, after the ride, after the scare, after the thrill, after the entertainment, when the money is spent and the adrenaline wears off, anxiety is still rooted deep within, and boredom creeps around the soul. The false self still lurks.

I’ve seen this even in religious ways, where Christians use such things as the Bible to hold God at arms length. Other good people use family, church, tradition and service of God to manage God: they can’t be ‘happy’ hearing of true self, and present reality, so they close off those voices any way they can – even if it takes ‘buying off’ God and conscience in good activity.

Brian Stoffregan tells a Jewish tale of stale life – how even learning, education and erudition can be used to ‘manage’ God.

A Jewish Story: Stale Ancestors -- Stale Learning

Usually the orthodox rabbis of Europe boasted distinguished rabbinical genealogies, but Rabbi Yechiel of Ostrowce was an exception. He was the son of a simple baker and he inherited some of the forthright qualities of a man of the people.

Once, when a number of rabbis had gathered at some festivity, each began to boast of his eminent rabbinical ancestors. When Rabbi Yechiel's turn came, he replied gravely, "In my family, I'm the first eminent ancestor."

His colleagues were shocked by this piece of impudence, but said nothing. Immediately after, the rabbis began to expound Torah. Each one was asked to hold forth on a text culled from the sayings of one of his distinguished rabbinical ancestors.

One after another the rabbis delivered their learned dissertations. At last it came time for Rabbi Yechiel to say something. He arose and said, "My masters, my father was a baker. He taught me that only fresh bread was appetizing and that I must avoid the stale. This can also apply to learning."

And with that Rabbi Yechiel sat down.

Thank you, Rabbi Yechiel!

To be true, we must flee the stale, the managed, the contrived: the false thrill of false self.

For God is not boring.

He is alive. He is here. He is making demands of our true self.

And we must respond.

C. S. Lewis makes the strong point that we are all about God if we can manage Him. But when it comes to the place where God manages us, finds us, reveals Himself and our true self, we turn away.

It is always shocking to meet life where we thought we were alone. "Look out!" we cry, "It’s alive." And therefore this is the very point at which so many draw back – I would have done so myself if I could – and proceed no further with Christianity. An "impersonal God" -- well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness, inside our own heads -- better still. A formless, life-force surging through us, a vast power which we can tap -- best of all. But God Himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, king, husband -- that is quite another matter. There comes a moment when the children who have been playing at burglars hush suddenly: was there a real footstep in the hall? There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion…suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us? [2]

Supposing He has found us?

All we can do is turn to face our divine Adversary, and find in the facing that He is not against our true self at all, but speaking death to our false self.

In facing Him we find ourselves, and gradually lose the urges of false control and false life.

In facing Him we risk all -- all we can conceive or imagine -- and yet find real thrill in return: distilled droplets of the Eternal that last forever.

For God is not boring!

God is Life!

Alleluia!

Amen.

Eagle over New River
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[1] A Jewish Story: Stale Ancestors -- Stale Learning [from A Treasury of Jewish Folklore: Stories, Traditions, Legends, Humor, Wisdom and Folk Songs of the Jewish People, Edited by Nathan Ausubel, p 51.]

[2] C. S. Lewis, Miracles, Chapter 11.