Dances with Words

CS Lewis was a genius. I’ve also been reading a biography written by his stepson which talks more about the man that CS Lewis was, and I’m very impressed with his life as well as his works. More on that book another time – I want to write about Mere Christianity, by CS Lewis.

Lewis covers a lot of ground in this book, which is based on a series of radio talks he gave in Britain during the second world war. His aim with the talks was to explain the basic concepts of Christianity and why he believed them. He does an excellent job.

The most striking thing is Lewis’ easy command of language. The whole book feels like a chat with the author, with him presenting his arguments in a friendly and accessible way, always justifying what he believes with anecdotes and scripture references where appropriate. This makes it read more like a talk with a learned friend than a textbook, and I think this is where the strength of the work lies.

The first few chapters go through a couple of relatively simple reasons why Lewis believes that there is a God at all, mainly focused on the idea that we as humans have an innate sense of right and wrong that transcends what could be provided by evolution, and which therefore must have come from a creator god. He moves from this to the Christian God, through several ideas and doctrines central to Christian belief, and ends with a couple of relatively complex ideas like the trinity and God-outside-time.

Very good for a beginner Christian, or even someone who simply wants to hear a wise account of the bases of our faith, I recommend this book heartily. Lewis takes the reader by the hand and leads you through the concepts in a passionate and entertaining way. I’m reading for the second time at the moment – it’s not very often a book this accessible has such powerful content.

It’s Elicia’s brithday on Tuesday so we went for a drive last night and came home with a little present for her. She’s an 8-week-old Beagle pup, named Gabby, and she’s gorgeous, already won the hearts of everyone who’s met her.

Everyone who’s met her and didn’t have to try and sleep in the same house as her last night while she was (very vocally) missing her family, anyway.

We went to a deb on the weekend. It’s the second deb I’ve been to, the first being my youngest sister’s last year. Again this time I was suprised at how vocal the audience is, chanting and shouting and clapping and yelling each time a couple came out to be presented. Granted, there was alcohol involved – which I understand isn’t always the case and without which the ceremony would no doubt be more, well, ceremonious – but it still suprises me that young people get so excited about something that is at its core as traditional and old-fashioned as a debutante ball.

Then on Sunday we watched a bit of the logies. And the deb behaviour made sense. As I’m watching the starlets strutting up the red carpet, crowds cheering and taking photos, it reminded me enormously of the deb we’d been to a couple of nights before. I think the young people are using the deb scene to imitate their tv roll models. Certainly some of the blokes behave like they do at the brownlows, getting quite plastered and loud and stupid. And some of the girls aren’t much better, shaking their assets on the dance floor. We saw one girl pull her skirt above her ears as part of her “dancing”. Thank goodness she was wearing at least a little bit of underwear.

It also makes me sad sometimes going to events like that with lots of young people I don’t know. It makes me realise how sheltered I really was growing up. There is no question that a large number of them get drunk and have sex with whoever’s around and that it’s not even an unusual or particularly special event for them (not all the kids, but a large number). It makes me sad. I want to sort of shake them, say Don’t you understand! You’re getting it all wrong! There’s more to life than this!

But then I think – is there? Is there really? For some people, the answer is no, there’s no more. That is life. Fair enough. But I think even if I wasn’t a Christian I’d want more than that. I’d believe in more than that. And it’s too bad anyway, because I am a Christian.

Times like this I remember a verse from John (can’t remember exactly where). After the feeding the 5000 Jesus brings a particularly hard word to his followers, and many can’t accept it and leave him. But when he asks the twelve if they’re going to leave, Peter (I think) says “Where would we go?”

Where would I go? After knowing God there is no way I could find peace with anything else, even if I wanted to.

No way.

And that brings me a sort of assurance. Like maybe, even if I can never tell anyone else in the world that there’s a better way of doing things, even if I occasionally want something that I just can’t have, I still can’t escape who I am.