Posted by richieg
on January 24, 2014
When troubles come along-illness, money troubles, new kinds of temptation–he is disappointed. These things, he feels, might have been necessary to rouse him and make him repent in his bad old days; but why now? Because God is forcing him on, or up, to a higher level: putting him into situations where he will have to be very much braver, or more patient, or more loving, than he ever dreamed of being before. It seems to us all unnecessary: but that is because we have not yet had the slighest notion of the tremendous thing He means to make of us.
Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not suprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of–throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.
The command Be ye perfect is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said that we were ‘gods’ and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him–for we can prevent Him, if we choose–He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzaling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful, but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said.
C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
Posted by richieg
on January 16, 2014
Can anyone feel a breeze blowing, ever be it so gentle? It’s got a uniqueness about it as though it’s not going to get stronger in terms of danger of physical harm or property damage. It’s ever present as a whisper with a message to be told and we long to grasp it’s origins. We stand in God’s harvest field and can see a reflection in someone’s eye, that for some reason, reminds us of that gentle breeze; their eyes telling of a yearning of hope, we’re drawn to come close to tell what we know.
We are reminded somewhere inside our being that this yearning is good and soft as a sunset, only to ponder that a sunset will linger long enough to tell of it’s majesty and then suddenly be gone in the twinkling of an eye. We have no control to bring such majesty back each day and know that the justice of our Creator will decide the next day.
Could this gentle breeze and that look of hope be the calling of our Creator to tell His story this day? God’s spirit reminds us that we are appointed to be in this place at this time. But then there is an intruder who battles us to believe this sudden meeting was not planned from above. We have no control to bring such encounters to return each day and know that the love of our Creator has planned our day.
Posted by richieg
on January 01, 2014
In his writing, C.S. Lewis makes clear that he hopes no reader will suppose that ‘Mere Christianity’ is put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions – as if man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. “If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals. The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable. It is true that some people may find they have to wait in the hall for a considerable time, others feel certain almost at once which door they must knock at. I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait.”
“When you get into your room you will find that the long wait had done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping. You must keep on praying for light; and, of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not what pleases you best by its paint and panelling. In plain language, the question should never be: ‘Do I like this kind of service?’ but ‘Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?”
“When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house. And when a person accepts the Christian doctrine but lives unworthily of it, it is much clearer to say this person is a bad Christian than to say they are not a Christian.”
2014: As we start this new year will we quarrel about right and wrong or debate religions? Instead may we bring many into the hallway of hope knowing that they have a conscious that is urging them to do right, its their choice to choose the door they will enter to hear the case for what we believe. It is not what we think people should be but what God intended them to be when He created them.