THE WANDERER, MAY 19, 2005

JOSEPH SOBRAN'S
WASHINGTON WATCH

C.S. Lewis versus the Church

     My return to the Church began when I read C.S. Lewis 
as a young man. I quickly became addicted to his writing 
and he has been a model for me ever since. In fact part 
of his attraction for me was that his style of thinking 
seemed so Catholic, Aristotelian, and even Thomistic; I'd 
(temporarily) ceased believing without ceasing to love 
the Church.

     Lewis's "mere Christianity," as he called it, was an 
attempt to walk a tightrope, sticking to central beliefs 
shared by virtually all Christians, Catholic, Protestant, 
and otherwise, while avoiding sensitive areas of 
disagreement. In his later books he even seemed to be 
edging toward Catholicism, as in his expressed belief in 
Purgatory. (See his LETTERS TO MALCOLM.) In his 
conservative way, he seemed almost "ecumenical," though 
without the tendency to dilute doctrine to suit the 
liberal temper of the times.

     So many Catholic admirers of Lewis (1898-1963) have 
responded the same way I did that it's often asked why he 
never joined the Church, which would seem the fulfillment 
of his early conversion to Christianity.

     The answer I gather from a pair of recent books is, 
in part, startlingly simple: Lewis was raised in the 
strongly anti-Catholic atmosphere of Protestant Northern 
Ireland, and he never really got over his youthful 
prejudices against Catholics, especially "bog-dwelling" 
Irish Catholics. 

     Yes, he was privately given to just such rude and 
derogatory language, which you'd never suspect from his 
books. His detestation of Catholicism was tempered by his 
historical awareness, but it remained strong enough to 
ruin his warm friendship with the Catholic J.R.R. Tolkien 
(though there appears to have been fault and provocation 
on both sides). Tolkien said he owed the immense success 
of his LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy to Lewis's generous 
encouragement; on the other hand, he was cruelly 
belittling toward Lewis's Narnia stories. 

     This sad story is told by Michael White in a new 
biography, C.S. LEWIS: A LIFE (Carroll & Graf). It's a 
small, highly readable book, though rather glib in its 
judgments and superficial in its summaries of Lewis's 
thinking.

     White admires Lewis without worshiping him, but he 
also avoids iconoclasm, and he's both frank and tactful 
in his treatment of Lewis's eyebrow-raising relations 
with Janie Moore, who shared Lewis's house with him for 
many years. (His father and brother both disapproved of 
this cohabitation.)

     Still, the book always leaves you wishing for more 
information and explanation, particularly about Lewis's 
World War II Broadcast Talks on the BBC (which later 
became the book MERE CHRISTIANITY).


Anglican Disarray

     More penetrating on the question of Lewis and 
Catholicism is Joseph Pearce's C.S. LEWIS AND THE 
CATHOLIC CHURCH (Ignatius). Pearce too deals with Lewis's 
inherited prejudices and his strained relations with 
Tolkien, but his chief concern remains with the 
intellectual reasons that prevented him from, as the 
English say, "poping."

     He has too much respect for Lewis's mind and honesty 
to settle for merely emotional explanations; if Lewis had 
once been (in his own later description) "perhaps the 
most dejected and reluctant [Christian] convert in all of 
England," yet fell on his knees to pray anyway, he might 
well have fallen on his knees as the most reluctant 
Catholic. Intellectual candor, Lewis always stressed, 
sometimes means accepting conclusions you hoped you 
wouldn't have to reach. 

     But with respect to Catholicism, Pearce thinks Lewis 
failed his own test by assuming, without argument, that 
the questions dividing Christians were questions "to 
which I do not think we have been told the answer." By 
saying this, Pearce observes, Lewis is implicitly 
rejecting the Catholic affirmation that we have been told 
the answer. 

     Lewis trusted that his "mere" Christianity was 
suitably realized in his own Anglican Church. But here, 
says Pearce, he was proved wildly wrong on his own 
ground. Anglicanism may have seemed, when Lewis was 
alive, to be firmly based on a solid core of beliefs 
shared by nearly all Christians; today that solid core no 
longer exists, as witness the disarray of the Anglican 
Church itself.

     As Pearce says, Lewis "clearly believed that he had 
found his True Home in Anglicanism. Yet today, 
posthumously, he has been made homeless." 

     Ironically, it's chiefly the remaining traces of 
orthodoxy in Anglicanism's African branch that prevent 
the church in England itself from following the fads that 
have made the Episcopal Church in North America a 
theological zoo. Just as ironically, Lewis himself before 
he died had sensed the imminent chaos when he warned of 
the calamitous consequences that might ensue if women 
were ordained as "priestesses."

     But Lewis was concerned with more than pragmatic 
results; he believed that God Himself had created the 
differences between man and woman and that the 
distinction was "sacramental" as well as physical. The 
priesthood was for men only. This was the divine plan, 
which, far from being in the vulgar sense 
"discriminatory," respected the dignity of both sexes. 

     This is so close to the Catholic view that we must 
wonder if Lewis today might be driven by events to 
abandon the compromise of "mere" Christianity and join 
the Church at last. But we'll never know. Lewis, as 
Pearce notes, died just as Bishop John Robinson's 
modernist HONEST TO GOD was about to become a bestseller.


Rare Glimpses

     Meanwhile, most of Lewis's books remain available. 
To the ones he published during his lifetime must now be 
added a three-volume edition of his collected letters 
(HarperCollins), the first two of which, each over a 
thousand pages, have already appeared.

     I regret to say that these are surprisingly 
uninteresting. Lewis was a remarkably versatile writer; 
but his casual correspondence is all too casual. We get 
only rare glimpses of the Christian apologist, the superb 
literary critic, the trenchant observer who created 
Screwtape, the enchanting writer of children's stories, 
or any of the other Lewises whom so many readers have 
loved for so many reasons.

     It's as if he needed a specific challenge to spur 
him to write well; earlier selections of his letters have 
been far more satisfying. Nor do these offer intimate 
glimpses of the man himself; most of them have all the 
fascination of old weather reports (from drizzly England, 
at that). 

     Of course we can hardly blame an author for the 
shortcomings of things he never meant to publish; Lewis 
instructed his brother to destroy a huge cache of his 
papers after his death, perhaps because they might be all 
too interesting. Our age takes the view that an author's 
privacy rights (if he has any at all) end with his death, 
so Lewis probably took a wise precaution.

     Still, I can't help wishing that some of his more 
unguarded comments on religion had been preserved, though 
we should be content that he was able to tell us no more 
and no less than he wished to. 

                 +          +          +                  

     SOBRAN'S watches a movie about an Irish monastery in 
the aftermath of "Vatican Four." If you have not seen my
monthly newsletter yet, give my office a call at 
800-513-5053 and request a free sample, or better yet, 
subscribe for two years for just $85. New subscribers get 
two gifts with their subscription. More details can be 
found at the Subscription page of my website, 
www.sobran.com.

     Already a subscriber? Consider a gift subscription 
for a priest, friend, or relative.
                                        --- Joseph Sobran

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read this column on-line at 
"http://www.sobran.com/wanderer/w2005/w050519.shtml".

This column copyright (c) 2005 by THE WANDERER, the
National Catholic Weekly founded in 1867,
www.thewandererpress.com. Reprinted with permission.

This page copyright (c) 2005 by THE VERE COMPANY.

This column may not be published in print or Internet 
publications without express permission of THE WANDERER. 
You may forward it to interested individuals if you use 
this entire page, including the following disclaimer:

"THE WANDERER is available by subscription. Write
subscription@thewandererpress.com for information.
Subscription price: $50 per year; $30 for six months.
Checks can be sent to The WANDERER, 201 Ohio Street, 
Dept. JS, St. Paul, MN 55107.


"SOBRAN'S and Joe Sobran's syndicated columns are 
available by e-mail subscription. For details and 
samples, see http://www.sobran.com/e-mail.shtml, write 
PR@griffnews.com, or call 800-513-5053."

This page copyright (c) 2005 by THE VERE COMPANY.