Douglas Wilson has been writing about Reformed theology for decades. He is such a prolific writer that one person quipped that he had “no unpublished thoughts.” As Wilson continues to demonstrate his love of writing, he readily acknowledges that he has owed much to C. S. Lewis. He has also commented on Lewis through the years, and his new book, The Light From Behind the Sun, is a collection, or “miscellany,” of these compositions: articles, a Desiring God conference talk, a forward to a book, blog posts, etc.

The subtitle of the book is “A Reformed and Evangelical Appreciation of C. S. Lewis.” Much of the book is a critique of Lewis from that perspective, though a very friendly one. The author being Reformed and evangelical, the reader can expect Wilson to address questions that like-minded people have often had about Lewis themselves. A sampling of questions he answers:

Was Lewis really a Calvinist after all?

What should we expect to happen to Susan Pevensie (one of the best things I’ve read on the subject)?

Does including Emeth in Aslan’s Country make Lewis a universalist?

Did Lewis believe in hell?

Was Lewis right to dismiss the imprecatory psalms?

Was Lewis presuppositional or evidentialist in his apologetics?

And so forth.

Wilson attempts a fair answer to such questions, referring broadly to both the Bible and Lewis’s writings. I especially enjoyed his references to Lewis’s Oxford History of English Literature – a work not often quoted, though it is full of valuable gems. He engagingly writes for the general reader, with helpful, practical observations along the way.

While the book is of interest for those concerned particularly with theological questions (e.g., did Lewis hold to all five points of TULIP?), it is a good read for anyone who profits from Lewis’s “religious” writing. If a person wants a more in-depth analysis of what is “reformed” about Lewis’s writing, the best place to go would be Donald William’s book, Deeper Magic (ISBN: 978-1941106051).

ISBN-13: 978-1-954887-15-2, canonpress.com/products/light-from-behind-the-sun

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Please note that the content and viewpoints of Rev. Beckmann are his own and are not necessarily those of the C.S. Lewis Foundation. We have not edited his writing in any substantial way and have permission from him to post his content.

The Rev. David Beckmann has for many years been involved in both the Church and education. He helped to start a Christian school in South Carolina, tutored homeschoolers, and has been adjunct faculty for both Covenant College and the University of Tennessee, Chattanooga. He founded the C.S. Lewis Society of Chattanooga in 2005. He has spoken extensively on C.S Lewis, and was the Director of the C.S Lewis Study Centre at The Kilns from 2014-2015. He is currently a Regional Representative for the C.S. Lewis Foundation in Chattanooga.

The post Review: The Light from Behind the Sun by Wilson appeared first on Living the Legacy of C.S. Lewis.

Frontispiece to The Antiquary by Walter Scott, 1893, Public Domain

I have for some time wanted to write a blog post on a quaint and encouraging passage in one of Lewis’s letters about the way he read books – in particular, non-fiction.  One might be disappointed with my timing, as I post this in the first days of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.  It may seem trivial to do so.  Yet, I do so in the spirit of Lewis’s essay, “Learning in War Time,” and, indeed, in the spirit of the letter to which I refer.  The letter was written to Arthur Greeves during February, 1932, while Japan was wrapping up an invasion of Manchuria, and Lewis expresses his worry about his brother Warnie because he was not far from the conflict, being stationed in Shanghai.  Indeed, his worry forced him to read the newspapers – something he normally would not do!  Of Warnie, he says, “I wish to goodness he had never gone out there.”  If Lewis writes about the reading of books while worrying about his brother in a troubled part of the world, I think he would think it a fit thing for us to reflect on what he writes, while we have concerns in our own time about the peace of the nations and the safety of people for whom we care.

There is another aspect of this letter that may have a personal relevance to us these days: Lewis had been laid up for over a fortnight with the flu.  He refers to his illness as the reason  why he had been so slow to respond to the last letter of his good friend.  Apparently, Arthur had asked Lewis if he had read any of the works by Naomi Mitchison.  Ms. Mitchison was a prolific contemporary writer of historical fiction with a universally acknowledged talent for engaging the reader with her characters while maintaining a high degree of historic accuracy.  Lewis says he had only read her Black Sparta and gives his opinion, which echoes that of many: “she is a wonderful writer.”

Next, Lewis is glad that Arthur has started to read the Chroniques of Jean Froissart – a history of 14th century Europe, written by a contemporary.  Lewis is famous for his ability to remember what he had read, and he had read Froissart.  But Lewis, much to our surprise, when trying to recall the name of a character in Froissart, calls him “Sir Thing-um-a-bob” and then says “(you see you are not the only one who forgets things).”  

It is here that Lewis tells us how he goes about reading such a book as Froissart.  It is classic Mortimer Adler – reading with a pencil:  

To enjoy a book like that thoroughly I find I have to treat it as a sort of hobby and set about it seriously.  I begin by making a map on one of the end leafs: then I put in a genealogical tree or two.  Then I put a running headline at the top of each page; finally I index at the end all the passages I have for any reason underlined.  I often wonder-considering people enjoy themselves developing  photos or making scrap-books-why so few people make a hobby of their reading in this way.  Many an otherwise dull book which I had to read have I enjoyed in this way, with a fine-nibbed pen in my hand: one is making something all the time and a book so read acquires the charm of a toy without losing that of a book.

People will often refer to Lewis’s marginalia in his books, but this is more than simply noting reactions to a text or associated thoughts.  This is a method of mastering the content of the book.  The book is turned into a project with a view to producing one’s own secondary work, to which one may refer in the future for reference or recall of its contents.  Of course, for a book-lover, this kind of thing is just fun to do.  It makes the book doubly satisfying – or perhaps, in the case of a bad book, just satisfying; some good has been gained out of it after all, if only some practice.  Such projects can vary depending on the genre of the book.  Taking The Screwtape Letters for example, I have found it profitable to give each letter a short title – using words from the chapter – and then on a leaf in the front or back of the book, list the letters with their titles and starting page numbers, thus creating a very helpful index.  I have used this index often to help me find a particular letter to which I want to return.

I bring this paragraph to our attention, not only because it is instructive and encouraging for readers generally, but because there is a bit of insight into Lewis here.  I have already referred to Lewis’s ability to remember what he had read.  Yes, indeed, he had a remarkable memory, but is it not evident here that he worked on the books he read?  May we not conclude that such effort would have gone a long way toward his recollection of the work?  He had expended some sweat on the book and made its contents his own.  That had to be a boost to an already strong – although imperfect [thing-um-a-bob!] – memory.  I think there is an example here for us to follow.

I cannot leave this letter without mentioning two last things.  First, he recommends more reading of Sir Walter Scott, and how he would read The Antiquary over and over again because he loved it so much.  If you will read The Antiquary, with Lewis in mind, you will understand why.  Secondly, Lewis mentions a principle of Christian prayer.  He says he cannot pray for any change to be made in Arthur without realizing that the same change needs to be made in himself.  This helps Lewis to see himself “in the same boat” with all other Christians and helps him keep a humble attitude.  With Lewis, as we seek to be better readers, let us seek to be better Christians – and especially in this hour remember those who are in the same boat with us.

C. S. Lewis’s February, 1932, letter to Arthur Greeves may be found in The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume II (New York, HarperCollins Publishers, 2004).

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Please note that the content and viewpoints of Rev. Beckmann are his own and are not necessarily those of the C.S. Lewis Foundation. We have not edited his writing in any substantial way and have permission from him to post his content.
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The Rev. David Beckmann has for many years been involved in both the Church and education. He helped to start a Christian school in South Carolina, tutored homeschoolers, and has been adjunct faculty for both Covenant College and the University of Tennessee, Chattanooga. He founded the C.S. Lewis Society of Chattanooga in 2005. He has spoken extensively on C.S Lewis, and was the Director of the C.S Lewis Study Centre at The Kilns from 2014-2015. He is currently a Regional Representative for the C.S. Lewis Foundation in Chattanooga.

The post A Letter on Reading – In War Time appeared first on Living the Legacy of C.S. Lewis.

For many summers, I served at C.S. Lewis’s home, “The Kilns,” during our C.S. Lewis Summer Seminars with three wonderful women. Kate Simcoe died of brain cancer in 2012. Debbie Haney died of dementia a few years ago. And, this morning, I learned the last of our beloved troop, Tammy Rowan Cox, bravely passed away yesterday from cancer. 

Sadly, each of them were much younger than me. They were such dear and loving souls. At The Kilns, they shared the room upstairs that the evacuee children shared during  WWII. I always had my own room downstairs. I would often, in the evening, before heading out to the pub, hear them laughing and enjoying each other’s company after a day of hard work.

And, it was hard work. For more than ten years we would leave our understanding spouses and gather each summer to spend over a month sharing The Kilns with a growing number of Lewis pilgrims. It was our special call to ministry. And they doted on me. Each was a sister in a way I can’t completely explain. We loved each other. 

Kate was Greek Orthodox, Debbie was Baptist, Tammy was Roman Catholic, and I am Anglican. We were unified in our life in Christ. And, we loved each other in a special way that only unity in Christ can bring.

We share a bond that will continue in eternity. 

God bless them.

Kim Gilnett

The post In Memory of Tammy Rowan Cox, Kate Simcoe, and Debbie Haney appeared first on Living the Legacy of C.S. Lewis.

When we as believers speak of spiritual formation, we are, of course, talking about our sanctification, viz., how we are transformed by God’s grace from sinners to saints in the totality of our lives. This transformation of necessity includes an ongoing repentance from all that is still presently sinful about us.

While repentance is a good work, it only gets us so far. Soon, I hope to have my house painted. The painter is going to begin the job by cleaning up the outside of the house: hosing and scraping and getting rid of the old stuff on it. But cleaning the house is only the preparatory work. The goal is to get the house newly painted. And so it is, our focus in sanctification is not so much getting rid of our sin as it is putting on the new man as Paul speaks in Ephesians 3:24.

A morbid preoccupation with what’s wrong with us will short-circuit our sanctification. Rather, as we read in Hebrews 12, our habit is to lay aside our weights and our sins that beset us and run with patience the race before us, – not looking at our sins and weaknesses, but – looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith (vs. 1,2). Paul says the same kind of thing in Philippians 3, ” … this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (vs. 13-14).

In the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, when Aslan finishes confronting Edmund privately about his sin, he introduces Edmund to the rest of his family with the words, “Here is your brother … and – there is no need to talk to him about what is past” (p. 118; The Complete Chronicles of Narnia, Harper, 1998). No, the job now was to learn to become good kings and queens of Narnia and get rid of that witch.

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Please note that the content and viewpoints of Rev. Beckmann are his own and are not necessarily those of the C.S. Lewis Foundation. We have not edited his writing in any substantial way and have permission from him to post his content.

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The Rev. David Beckmann has for many years been involved in both the Church and education. He helped to start a Christian school in South Carolina, tutored homeschoolers, and has been adjunct faculty for both Covenant College and the University of Tennessee, Chattanooga. He founded the C.S. Lewis Society of Chattanooga in 2005. He has spoken extensively on C.S Lewis, and was the Director of the C.S Lewis Study Centre at The Kilns from 2014-2015. He is currently a Regional Representative for the C.S. Lewis Foundation in Chattanooga.

The post Laying the Past Aside appeared first on Living the Legacy of C.S. Lewis.