This past week we read Till We Have Faces, and even though this book was completely different than anything else I’ve read by CS Lewis, I picked up on some familiar themes.  One that I really noticed was types of love.  Orual “loved” Psyche so much that she didn’t want her to be happy with her new God/husband; she only wanted her to be happy if she was the one making her happy, and she would rather her die than be happy in this new “world”.  Her love was a selfish, prideful love, to the point where it really wasn’t love at all.  A lot of Orual’s thoughts and dialogue sounded very familiar to the mother in The Great Divorce who refused to love God because He “took” her son Michael from her.  She wanted to love him on her own terms and would have dragged him back down to hell if it meant they could be together.  This diseased love blinded her from the reality that was right in front of her—if she could learn to love God more than her son, she would then be able to love her son on an entirely new level and both of them could be happy in God’s love.  Orual’s situation is different, but still similar to the mother in the type of selfish love she possesses.  She doesn’t want what is best for Psyche, and is blind to what Psyche tries to explain to her about the gods.  Stabbing her arm in order to blackmail Psyche was not love, only manipulation and selfishness.  When Psyche refused to listen to Orual, Orual interpreted this as betrayal and thought her sister didn’t love her anymore.  She learn in the end of the book, however, that Psyche truly loved her all along, just in a different and higher way than she was familiar with.

       This week, we read The Four Loves, which discusses four types of love: Affection, Friendship, Eros, and Charity.  I found it really interesting to think about how all of these types of love work together and complement each other in a relationship.  For example, you can’t have a romantic relationship solely based off of lust, yet you need more than mere friendship.  The four loves work in harmony with each other.

        In the introduction, Lewis also discussed two larger categories of love: Need-love and Gift-love.  The ideal exemplar of Gift-love would be our Heavenly Father—He gives all He has to us, and is the embodiment of love itself.  There is nothing He stands in need of, but pours out blessings upon us.  We, on the other hand, exemplify Need-love.  There is nothing we can ever do to be able to begin to pay back God, and we do not need to.  Our love is a different kind of love, one of dependence and gratitude, like a child to its mother.  We not only have an innate need for God, but for love from those around us.  Beyond our constant physical needs, we need companionship, empathy, self-assurance, and intellectual stimulation.  We need comfort from those around us, and we need to feel important, we need to fulfill others’ needs in some way.  The list goes on and on, and it’s interesting to see how those four loves all revolve around the needs that innate to human nature.  The way we interact and form meaningful relationships with one another is through meeting one another’s needs.  And through recognizing others’ needs, we begin to learn about Gift-love—though we will never fully exemplify Gift-love in this life, I think we can come closer by learning how God loves us.

       This week, we read excerpts from The Problem of Pain, which answers an important question in Christianity: why must we suffer?  Lewis begins by pointing out that people who are stuck in their sins often need pain to come to the realization that everything is not well in their life.  They will later realize that their life is not their own, and the false happiness and pleasure that they have experienced in their sins are contrary to God’s will and in fact preventing them from experiencing true joy.  It is often those that achieve worldly success, not the poor and downtrodden, that reject or forget God because they don’t need Him, and we are quick to forget that He was the one who granted us our success.

       He also asserts that although many associate pain with the negative things of the world—violence, depression, and immorality—it is more common that pain brings out the best in people.  Pain is like the refiner’s fire—it’s not enjoyable, but you come out of it purer and humbler than before, more submissive to God.  When we can overcome the concept of being a “self”, we can let God into our lives and follow His guidance, which will ultimately lead us to real happiness and joy.

       This past week in class we read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which is the story of Edmund, Lucy, and their cousin Eustace going to Narnia and journeying to the “utter East”, which is the edge of the Narnian world and the beginning of Aslan’s world.  The symbolism throughout this book was interesting—the journey itself represented the journey that we all take through mortality, towards Christ.  There were countless temptations and dangers along the way, but Aslan was always there as a comfort and a reminder to stay on the right course.  And within almost all of the characters you could see a transformation brought about through the mercy and love of Aslan.

       What really stood out to me throughout the book was the personal relationship Aslan had with each of the main characters, shown at various points in the story.  Eustace was the first to experience the change that came through his love—when he accidentally turned himself into a dragon, the process of “undragoning” was only possible through Aslan.  He could not peel back the layers of skin on his own, Aslan had to do it for him.  Furthermore, he was in a sense “baptized” in the healing waters after being stripped of his sinful disposition.  Lucy also had a personal experience with Aslan as he helped her resist the temptation to make herself beautiful by magic.  He also lovingly makes her aware of her mistake in spying on her friends, but forgives her and welcomes her back into his arms.  Caspian and Edmund were at the brink of a fight over the goldwater, but Aslan appeared in the distance as a reminder to not fall into that trap, and later Aslan appeared to Caspian when he wanted to abandon his country.  He appeared to the entire crew as a white albatross when they were lost in the mists of darkness—very symbolic of sin and despair.  And at the edge of Narnia, he appeared to Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace as a lamb who fed them fish, clearly symbolic of the “lamb of God”.

       He also told them that they would know him in their own world by a different name, which we know to be Jesus Christ.  This applies to the characters in the book, but I think also to readers of the Narnie series.  By coming to know Aslan’s character in the book and learning to love Aslan, we learn how to love our Savior Jesus Christ.  While he is not an exact representation of him, reading of the power, mercy, and love he embodies in the book can bring us closer to Christ.

       This week in class, we read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which I hadn’t read since elementary school.  It was interesting to read it again not that I’m older and also more familiar with Lewis’ other works because I picked up on so much religious symbolism that I completely missed as a child.  The most meaningful part of the book to me was when Aslan, who represents Christ, gave himself to the Witch for death so that Edmund would be saved.  The way the Witch and her followers mocked Aslan was so similar to Christ’s crucifixion—they shaved Aslan’s mane, bound him, and put a muzzle over his jaw.  Yet he remained calm, submissive, and even sad for the evil choices they were making.

       When Susan and Lucy found the Stone Table broken and Aslan gone, it resembled the empty tomb of Christ.  I also think the Stone Table was a symbol of the lower law, the Law of Moses, and the “deeper magic” Aslan spoke of was the higher law that Christ brought forth.  Aslan defeated death and brought forth a sort of resurrection in Narnia.  He breathed life back into the creatures that had been turned to stone, and the gates of Cair Paravel, or hell, were trodden down.  The power of the Witch, who symbolizes the devil, was nothing up against Aslan, and the battle was quickly won by Aslan and the good creatures of Narnia.

       What was also interesting was the way that the Witch tempted Edmund with hunger and with the promise of power.  Once he had given in and was under her spell, he could no longer see things clearly and was terrified and uncomfortable at the mention of Aslan.  However, once he realized his great mistake and tried to return to Aslan, he was welcomed with open arms and forgiven of his sins.  Aslan was willing to die for him alone, despite the fact that he had betrayed them all.  I thought this was a beautiful symbol of the Atonement—Christ was perfect, yet He gave himself to death so that we could be saved from our sins, so that He could overthrow death itself.  And He would have done it for just one of us.

       This past week, we read Perelandra, which gives almost an allegory of Adam and Eve, except it occurs on Venus, which is called Perelandra.  The Green Lady, who is similar to Eve, is able to withstand the temptations of the devil and he is ultimately cast out.  She and Tor, the Adam-like figure, learn good and evil not by falling but through Maleldil, or God.  It is interesting to see in this how CS Lewis’ views conflict with the LDS view on the Fall.  Lewis believes that the Fall was not necessary, but that God will still make everything work for the best.  Christ’s descent and crucifixion were only a response to the Fall, to fix a mistake, a second option instead of the cornerstone of eternity.  In Perelandra, Tor speaks of how he was able to learn of good and evil, but not as the Evil One wished them to learn.  He asserts that those on Thulcandra, or Earth, are in a deeper ignorance than they were before the Fall since they are immersed in evil.  “Men by sleeping lose the knowledge of sleep,” he points out.  This is an interesting viewpoint, and it is true that there are many on Earth today that do not understand evil because they are being fooled by the devil into thinking it is good, but I think overall we are able to understand the distinction clearly between good and evil when we are able to choose good over evil.  Of course, it seems that it would be easier if men had never fallen, but I think one must experience evil in order to truly understand and value good.  That is what we learn in the Book of Mormon—there must be opposition in all things.  We not only need the knowledge of good and evil, but we need to sin and have trials in order to progress and become like God.  In was in God’s plan for man to fall, and as far as we fell, we will ascend that much higher through the Atonement.  We will be able to truly taste of good.  While Lewis’ views are similar to LDS views on many aspects, this is one area where he doesn’t quite hit the mark.

       In class, we’ve read a lot of different shorter excerpts by Lewis lately, but one that stuck out to me was Christianity and Literature.  It talked about the difference between Christian writers and other writers, claiming that the main difference is the purpose for which they write.  Christian writers are not writing trying to be original, or to increase their personal stature, but for God.  Lewis says that the Christian “knows that the salvation of a single soul is more important than the production of preservation of all the epics and tragedies in the world” (10). 

       I think this concept rings true for everything else we do—art, athletics, academics, or even leisurely activities.  All these activities could be considered “good on their own terms, but if we have the ultimate goal in mind of doing God’s will and serving our fellow man, it heightens the entire experience to a whole new level.  Not only will our life take on new significance, but I believe God will strengthen our abilities when we seek to serve Him.  This goes along with another point Lewis has made—that the most insignificant of activities can become divine if you have God as your motive, while the most noble of activities can become evil if God you are turned away from God.  Basically, through God everything is good, and the absence of God in our lives turns everything sour.

        This past week we finished up Miracles, and the point of a lot of our discussion revolved around Lewis’ idea of nature and reality.  He refutes the idea that heaven is less real than our current state—some people have a false image of heaven as this misty, empty state which Lewis calls “negative spirituality”.  However, he claims that heaven is even more real than our world now; spirituality is more real than nature.  Our experiences now only reflect the ultimate reality, and in comparison we are just a metaphor of the divine.

        It goes back to the symbolism Lewis illustrated in The Great Divorce.  Those who came unto God, “Spirits”, became glowing, solid creatures with a whole new level of physical reality, while those unwilling to submit were stuck as “Ghosts”, miniscule and unsubstantive compared to the Spirits, almost empty. This was a physical symbol of a divine truth—we will become something through Christ, and we are nothing on our own.  We gain glory and light when we submit our will unto God, and we become real beings.  Now, we are like two-dimensional figures—we know some reality but there are entirely more substantive aspects of reality that we can’t begin to perceive or comprehend right now.

        However, that is not saying that we are nothing, or that our reality now is meaningless.  Lewis asserts that nature contains smaller versions of eternal patterns.  Eventually, nature and spirituality will be “fully harmonized”, and “every state of affairs in the new nature will be the perfect expression of a spiritual state.”  Through Christ, we will become fully real, and enjoy the real, substantial joy that God has prepared for us. 

       This week, we began reading Miracles, which is a lot less accessible than some of the other books we’ve been reading.  It approaches the concept of miracles from a philosophical standpoint, reasoning that miracles not only fit into our idea of nature, but that they are inherent to it.  I loved the connections drawn between nature and miracles.  Of course, nature is in itself a miracle, but there is so much symbolism built into the laws of nature. 

       For example, reincarnation plays a huge role in nature—Lewis gives the example of vegetables becoming seeds and buried into the ground, in a sense “dying” so that they may be “born” again.  But on a much grander scale, Christ died so we may live.  This beautiful concept is echoed in so many minute aspects of nature that we likely don’t connect it with the Resurrection.  But if we take notice, these tiny miracles all point to a bigger Miracle.

       Vicariousness is another connection to the divine.  Nature is filled with dependent relationships—we depend on animals for food, plants for oxygen, rain to quench our thirst.  Likewise, animals depend on other animals, plants depend on the sun, and the list goes on.  However, we are all dependent upon a higher source of life—Christ.  On our own, we would have nothing and we would be nothing.  This dependence is of a completely different magnitude than our dependence on cows for milk, but the concepts are definitely connected.  The examples we are given in nature all echo the miracle of the Atonement.

       I think sometimes we forget that nature is only a made-up system by the divine, it does not define reality—it is only a shadow of it.  Nature is inherently divine, but there is so much more beyond nature.  I loved what CS Lewis said about miracles “breaking” the rules of nature.  God is like an artist who can see the whole painting—He might break a few of the little rules that beginning artists wouldn’t dare break, but He plays by a higher set of rules that override the others.  That is what makes miracles not only possible, but essential to nature and to God’s design.

       So I want to discuss a little more on my topic from last week—loving God.  As I read more of Mere Christianity, my exact question was actually addressed.  Lewis acknowledges that we are told we ought to love God, but many of us can’t find those feelings within us.  His response was that we should “act as if [we] did.  Do not sit trying to manufacture feelings.  Ask yourself, ‘If I were sure that I loved God, what would I do?’  When you have found the answer, go and do it.”  Our works are the best indicator of our love for Him, I think they are what matters most to Him.  And when we do His will, I think He will bless us with the ability to love more fully, as He does.

       I also loved Lewis’ words on the Atonement.  It is an amazing gift offered to all men, yet so many reject it for meaningless counterfeits of happiness.  When we honestly discover how helpless we are, that is when we can truly give our will to God and trust in His grace.  This brings up a problem for many though: if we stop trying, will we still be saved?  If we really can’t do anything to “earn” our salvation, is there a point in obeying God still?  To me, salvation is a state of eternal happiness where we can learn to become like God.  So why wouldn’t we still strive to obey Him?  It is the only way we can come closer to Him while still on this earth, and the closest we can come to true happiness in this life.  Of course the Atonement will make up for the rest if we allow it to, but why delay the process by wallowing in apathy?  Lewis gave beautiful insight into this topic:

       “To trust Him means, of course, trying to do all that He says. There would be no sense in saying you trusted a person if you would not take his advice. Thus if you have really handed yourself over to Him, it must follow that you are trying to obey Him. But trying in a new way, a less worried way. Not doing these things in order to be saved, but because He has begun to save you already. Not hoping to get to Heaven as a reward for your actions, but inevitably wanting to act in a certain way because a first faint gleam of Heaven is already inside you.”

       Grace is definitely important—it is what saves us.  But works are equally important because it is how we show our love for God.  Even if doing good to our neighbor or kneeling in prayer every night isn’t enough save us, it will bring us closer to God and bring a little Heaven into our lives.  A huge part of exaltation is gaining the ability to love as God does.  It is not a burden but a blessing.

       As I’ve been reading from CS Lewis’ works, the concept of truly loving God has been on my mind.  The only way to find real joy and return to our Father in Heaven is through loving him and submitting ourselves entirely unto Him, and so I’ve been looking at my own testimony a little more skeptically.  I know that God loves me with an amazing love that I am still trying to fully understand, and I see evidence of God’s love for me in all aspects of my life, but how do I truly love Him as deeply and as unconditionally as He loves me?  In Mere Christianity, there is a chapter on forgiveness that discusses how we are to love others.  It is often hard to look past a person’s actions and love them for who they are.  But if we look at how we love ourselves, we can understand this process a little better.  We all make mistakes and we never measure up to what we want to become, but even though we hate those mistakes we know that we can improve.  We pick ourselves back up.  We just keep loving ourselves (in a non-conceited way).  In pondering the way we love ourselves, we can understand how we are to love others and more importantly, how God loves us.  He is eager to forgive us and help us move forward, and he knows our divine potential.  He simply loves us for who we are.  If we can see others through a divine perspective and recognize that mistakes are part of mortality, we can learn to love as God does.  So how do we love God “with all our might, mind, and strength”? Through humble prayer, studying His word, and obeying His commandments, we can come to know of His love.  When we submit our will to His, we are immersed in His love, and He will in turn teach us how to love.  I still do not understand this concept completely, but I think that by learning how to love our fellow man, as well as ourselves, through His love, love will naturally become a part of who we are.

       The Great Divorce really echoed a concept that I have always believed to be true—whether you go to heaven or to hell is entirely up to you.  Any weakness or temptation you are faced with can be overcome when you give yourself over to God and His will.  I loved the episode about the dark oily man with a lizard on his shoulder, representing lust.  It took a lot of convincing for the man to give up his vice because he was afraid of what he’d be without it, but once he submitted his will to God’s, he was completely transformed.  What I found interesting was that after the red lizard was killed, its remains were also transformed into a brilliant white horse. If we come unto God with our weaknesses, and humble ourselves, He will “make weak things strong.”  However, what I found equally interesting was how close some people could come to heaven and then walk away from God’s love, often in pursuit of a counterfeit love.  For example, the mother “loved” her son so much that she would have dragged him back down to hell with her if given the chance, and she was so blinded by her own small idea of love that she failed to understand God’s all-encompassing love.  Even when we feel we are seeking the best things in life, if our focus is not on God, we are headed in exactly the wrong direction.  But what is also amazing about this concept is that if we do turn our hearts to God, no matter what roadblocks stand in our way, He will bring us home.  Ultimately, we will end up where we want to be.

       This past week I read The Screwtape Letters for my CS Lewis literature class and was amazed at how much spiritual insight its pages contained.  One thing I took from the book was how little power the devil really has over us in comparison to God.  Although the devils in the story found hundreds of sneaky ways to manipulate their “patients” into sin, they were constantly overcome by “the Enemy”.  In a few letters Screwtape complained about some of the unfair advantages that God had and how they couldn’t wrap their minds around the concept of love, and you just have to feel sorry for them.  They have absolutely no shot at finding any type of joy except through God, but they don’t realize how easy God makes it to return to Him and become like Him.  The devil can twist things and try to pull us off course, but we are never out of reach of the Atonement and loving guidance from Heaven.  No matter how many times we make the same mistake or push God out of our lives, He is always there to lead us back to safety.