Out of the Silent Planet

This post is part of the C.S. Lewis book club hosted at the Quiet Quill - stop by there to read other discussions on this book. Next month we'll be discussing the sequel, Perelandra.

Given that Out of the Silent Planet came out in the 1930's, I think it is a spectacular SF book. No one does descriptions like C.S. Lewis to make you feel as if you are actually there, on another planet; a masterful blend of up-close details and broad-scale views. His spaceship and description of space travel are fascinating, too.

Here's a quote that embodies Lewis' way of turning your pre-conceived, earth-bound views inside out - we conceive space as darkness and void but Lewis painted as them as brilliance and life:

He wondered how he ever could have thought of planets, even of the Earth, as islands of life and reality floating in a deadly void. Now, with a certainty which never after deserted him, he saw the planets - the 'earths' he called them in his thought - as mere holes or gaps in the living heaven - excluded and rejected wastes of heavy matter and murky air, formed not by addition to, but subtraction from, the surrounding brightness.


And yet, he thought, beyond the solar system the brightness ends. Is that the real void, the real death? Unless... he groped for the idea... unless visible light is also a hole or gap, a mere diminuation of something else. Something that is to bright unchanging heaven as heaven is to the dark, heavy earths.... Things do not always happen as a man would expect. The moment of his arrival in an unknown world found Ransom wholly absorbed in a philosophical speculation.

Let me pick out the crux of that last paragraph:


unless visible light is also a hole or gap, a mere diminuation of something else


Shivers up my spine! I think he's hinting about God.

The planet Malacandra has three very distinct intelligent species that live in peace under one all-powerful (but not tyrannical) ruler, a Christian allegory for the Kingdom of God. There's a little bit of subtle satire that pops up here and there in the book. For instance, here's Ransom trying to describe the alien culture before he really understands it - he's actually describing human culture:

It would be a strange but not an inconceivable world; herosim and poetry at the bottom, cold scientific intellect above it, and overtopping all some dark superstition which scientific intellect, helpless against the revenge of the emotional depths it had ignored, had neither will nor power to remove.

The height of satire is at the end of the book, the famous conversation where Ransom (who is a philologist, a studier of languages) acts as translator between the other two humans and the ruler of Malacandra. (Check out Wikipedia's article about the book for great discussion of that conversation).

The satire had me smiling, as well as other conversations between Ransom and the aliens where they are trying to figure each other out - both sides are respectful, but delightfully perplexed.

Here's a scene where one of the natives is trying to describe the eldil, a fleeting being that is allegorical to angels, to Ransom:

Ransom tried to give the sorn some idea of the terrestrial terminology of solids, liquids and gases. It listened with great attention.

"That is not the way to say it," it replied. "Body is movement. If it is at one speed, you smell somehting; if at another, you hear a sound; if at another you see a sight; if at another, you neither see nor hear nor smell, nor know the body in any way. But mark this, Small One, that the two ends meet."

"How do you mean?"

"If movement is faster, then that which moves is more nearly in two places at once.... But if the movement were faster still - it is difficult, for you do not know many words - you see that if you made it faster and faster, in the end the moving thng would be in all places at once, Small One.

"...The swiftest thing that touches our sense is light. We do not truly see light, we only see slower things lit by it, so that for us light is on the edge - the last thing we know before things become too swift for us. But the body of an eldil is a movement swift as light; you may say its body is made of light, but not that which is light for the eldil. His "light" is a swfter movement which for us is nothing at all; and what we call light is for him a thing like water, a visible thing, a thing he can touch and bathe in - even a dark thing when not illumined by the swifter. And what we call firm things - flesh and earth - seem to him thinner, and harder to see, than our light, and more like clouds, and nearly nothing.

"To us the eldil is a thin, half-real body that can go through walls and rocks: to himself he goes through them because he is solid and firm and they are like cloud. And what is true light to him and fills the heaven, so that he will plunge into the rays of the sun to refresh himself from it, is to us the black nothing in the sky at night. These things are not strange, Small One, though they are beyond our senses."

I was particularly fascinated about how the alien ruler, Oyarsa, calls the human visitors from earth "bent" - the closest word the aliens have for selfish or greedy (Ransom's companions have kidnapped him to make an "offering" to pacify the aliens; they have come not to study the planet but to exploit it for gold).


Here's a conversation between Ransom and Oyarsa that tells of an epic galatic (and spiritual war) that isn't hard to place with its Biblical equivalent. (Here  is also where the term "the silent planet" comes from).

"Thulcandra [Earth] is the world we do not know. It alone is outside heaven, and no message comes from it."

Ransom was silent, but Oyarsa answered his unspoken questions.

"It was not always so. Once we knew the Oyarsa of your world - he was brighter and greater than I - and then we did not call it Thulcandra [their name for Earth]. It is the longest of all stories and the bitterest. He became bent. That was before any life came on your world. Those were the Bent Years of whcih we still speak in the heavens, when he was not yet bound to Thulcandra but free like us. It was in his mind to spoil other worlds besides his own. He smote your moon with his left hand and with his right he brought the cold death on my haranda [planet surface] before its time; if by my arm Maleldil [God] had not opened the handramits [deep canyons] and let out the hot springs, my world would have been unpeopled. We did not leave him so at large for long. There was a great war, and we drove him back out of the heavens and bound him in the air of his own world as Maleldil taught us. There doubtless he lies to this hour, and we know no more of that planet: it is silent. We think that Maleldil would not give up utterly to the Bent One [Satan] in Thulcandra. But of this we know less than you; it is a thing we desire to look into."

"I see now that the Lord of the silent world has bent you. There are laws that all hnau [humans and aliens] know, of pity and staight dealing and shame and the like, and one of these is the love of kindred. He has taught you to break all of them expect this one, which is not one of the greaest laws; this one he has bent till it becomes folly and has set it up, thus bent, to be a little blind Oyarsa [god] in your brain.... He has left you this one because a bent hnau can do more evil than a broken one. "

I kept expecting to find the allegorical reference to Christ, but I couldn't, which leaves me excited to see if the allegory of Christ's sacrifical death is covered in the next two books in the trilogy.

I don't think Oyarsa is a picture of Christ. The closest I could come to placing him was a ruling angel (eldil), though are several places, such as above, where it's infered that he's a god.


The ending where Ransom leaves the planet to return to earth - watching Malacandra grow smaller and the change of perspective - is just one of many vivid images/scenes that I'll remember for a long time


This is as far as my commentary goes; but I'm sticking a few more quotes in here at the end because I want to remember them.

"There must be rule, yet how can creatures rule themselves? Beasts must be ruled by hnau and hnau by eldila and eldia by Maleldil. These creatures have no eldila. They are like one trying to lift himself by his own hair--or one trying to see over a whole country when he is on a level with it--like a female trying to beget young on herself."

"But one thing we let behind us on the harandra: fear. And with fear, murder and rebellion. The weakest of my people does not fear death. It is the Bent One, the lord of your world, who wastes your lives and befouls them with flying from what you know will overtake you in the end [death]. If you were subjects of Maledil you would have peace."

 ... the stars, thick as daisies on an uncut lawn, reigned perpetually with no cloud, no moon, no sunrise to dispute their sway. There were planets of unbelievable majesty, and constellations undreamed of: there were celestial sapphires, rubies, emeralds and pin-pricks of burning gold; far out on the left of the picture hung a comet, tiny and remote: and between all and behind all, far more emphatic and palpable than it showed on Earth, the undimensioned, enigmatic blackness.

1000 gifts: marching on

It's March, which makes the marching on through winter blues a little easier. We'll still have a lot of wintery weather here in Laramie through April, but the days are longer, and there will be more warmer days to count on. Meanwhile the Lord helps me see little gifts almost every day, blessings that I'm thanking him for:

212. Lego creations.

Blaze and Dreamer got creative with legos and created these "tractor cars" - Dreamer says hers can fly. I took the picture to send to their Grandma and Grandpa - Grandpa B. has a whole collection of toy tractors.

213. Praying on your knees.
My mom told me recently that she's been on her knees praying for my dad. His health is poor (Parkinson's) and he's depressed and hard to get along with. Seeing him slowly deteriorate has been hard on both of us, especially on her. But she's seeking God more.

214. Foster parents.

My friend Heather and her family are in the foster-parent program. Incredibly, a newborn baby was abandoned at the hospital. She and her husband had less than a day to decide about taking the baby, about living with the uncertainty of how long they'd get to keep him - or maybe even adopt him (they already have four kids). What an emotional roller coaster! But she told me that they both felt the Lord was calling them to do this. I cannot think of a better family for an abandoned baby to find love in. 

215. Listening for God's voice.
I have been trying to listen to God more, to hear his voice and direction as I read the Bible. I asked him what verse to memorize next for Beth Moore's scripture memory challenge, and he directed me to Isaiah 30:15 - it's so neat when you know, really clearly, that you've just got an answer to a question. "This is what the sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: 'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.'"

216. Christian role-models.
I had to travel up to Casper to teach again, three days this time - too long! - but Nicole's parents, who live in Casper, invited me over for lunch, and that was a really nice refresher. I adore Nicole's mom. She is one of my examples of a great Christian woman.

217. Being content with what I have.
The second night in Casper I was sick of the hotel room so I went to the mall and browsed around. It was fun looking through all the cool electronic "toys" at Best Buy - the iPad, the laptops, netbooks, tablets, smart phones and high def TVs. But the really cool part? Not being tempted by any of them. Being able to say "I don't need any of these, my life is just fine with what I have." (not that I wouldn't turn down an iPad or an iTouch if someone offered me one!)

218. A friend checking up on me.
Also one of the nights I was gone, I got a Facebook message from Gretchen, a new friend at church who knows I'm struggling with depression and hadn't seen me at church that Sunday (it's easy to miss people, our church is getting that big) so she just wanted to check up on me. It was heartening to know that I was in her prayers and thoughts.

219. When something breaks so you can "hear" an important message.
On my drive back from Casper to Laramie (3 hours), my CD got stuck in the CD player, and then I couldn't find any good radio station to listen to. KLOVE is my station of choice, but it wasn't coming up, and the only other Christian station was playing really old-fashioned music (I like a couple songs, but I can't listen to choir songs for 3 hours). But then a preacher came on, a guy called Darrin Patrick, and gave this amazing message about experiencing God's will - it was so good I was riveted, and afraid that I'd lose the station (in the big empty spaces between towns in Wyoming, it's easy to lose cell coverage and radio signals). But the message played clear as a bell all the way through - only after it was over did the station finally fuzz out. So then I pressed the play button on the CD player and the CD started playing again, no problem. Almost makes you wonder if God had a little hand in that "coincidence"? Like he wanted me to hear that message. It was so good that when I got home I looked up Darrin Patrick on the internet and downloaded the message I'd heard and several others of his too. You can download his messages at http://www.journeryon.net.

220. Homemade gifts.
When I got home my four girls were thrilled to see me. Blaze had made me a beaded bracelet with a clever beaded flower on it that she'd brainstormed herself. Dreamer was not to be outdone and made me bracelet too. The twins were all excited to show me their "bed." Starlet grabbed my hand and pulled me to my own bedroom - where I discovered that B. had put down a mattress next to our bed, so that between the two mattresses all four of them could sleep with him while I was gone. Of course they wanted to continue the sleeping arrangements, but they've learned momma is not quite as soft-hearted as daddy in that respect.

221. Writing progress
My work on my novel has been progressing - it's not been easy (the further I get along in the story, the harder it is to keep all the plot threads going) but I'm up to almost 75,000 words - I fell just a couple thousand short of my goal for March 1st, but I'm still really happy about my progress. One weekend I wrote 4200 words and the next I added another 4000. Being productive with my writing is a big mental "yay!" and a great defense against the blues. I was hoping to have the book finished by 75,000 words, it's going to be more like 85 or 90k at this point, but still - the end is in sight!

222. Old story, new twist
Also, speaking of my novel, I had a couple interesting ideas that I think will really help the plot of the book - make it more of "high concept" plot which many agents/editors are looking for these days. "High concept" is hard to define, but it's like putting a twist on a familiar situation. For instance, poor boy rubs a lamp and discovers a genie - we are all familiar with that story. But you add a new twist or dimension to it by asking a "what if" question. What if instead of a genie in the lamp, the boy (or the girl, in my case) finds two geniis in the lamp - two geniis that work at cross-purposes to fulfill the girl's wishes. Now my story doesn't actually have a lamp in it (I've made up something called a livingstone). No geniis in it either, but different magical beings. The situation is similar enough that audiences will relate to it - be reminded of Aladdin and his genii - but also be intrigued by a new twist on an old idea.

Well, that's the theory, at any rate.

223. Sharing ideas
N.L. is also working hard at her novel, and we are hoping to exchange them soon - in the meantime it's been fun bouncing ideas off each other, sharing my new ideas with her and hearing the new things she's coming up with for her story. She usually pops by the house at least once a week, and her visits always cheer my heart.

224. Truly seeing light
N.L. also never fails to find great quotes to send me via Facebook: we think this one is from C.S. Lewis' space trilogy, but not sure. It's still a beautiful image, and one that makes you wonder: "We do not truly see light, we only see slower things lit by it, so that for us light is on the edge—the last thing we know before things become too swift for us."

225. Twitter.
Yes, as if I don't waste enough time already online, blogging, looking up factoids on Wikipedia, checking Facebook and email, now I am twittering. It happened when I mentioned my March 1st writing goal on my writing blog, and another writer said, "I'm trying to reach my March 1st goal too. Let's twitter each other goals every week." So I started tweeting #writegoal and #weekendchallenge - and then picked up another writer looking for writing motivation along the way too. It's been such a help! (and not time-consuming. Well, not as bad as blogger and Facebook, at any rate).

226. Early is not always best.
"The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese." This isn't exactly a quote, but I saw this funny saying on an office door in the building where I work, and it was cute enough that it changed my perspective from another ho-hum day to a happy day.

227. Pooters.
The other night when I was checking email on my computer, Serious comes up to me and asks "are you working on your pooter?" I love her word for computer.

228. Favorite hymns.
A wonderful morning of worship and communion today at church. One of those days where I felt God was so close enough I could reach up my hand and touch the train of his robe. We sang two of my favorite hymns, "It Is Well With my Soul" and "The Love of God." Just have to share these wonderful lyrics from "The Love of God."

When hoary time shall pass away,

And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call,
God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—

Refrain:
Oh, love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

1000 gifts: getting through depression

Like last year, my "seasonal affective disorder" kicked in during February. I've lost energy and motivation. I come home and crawl straight into bed instead of making dinner. My head feels like it's full of thick, heavy, useless stuffing. But still, God is faithful to give me His gifts each day. They still bring me joy; it's just that I quickly forget the joy. The useless stuffing pushes it out of the way, to make more room for it's selfish, clogged up muck.


Days go by before I remember to look at my calendar, and then I struggle to remember the gifts to write them down. But, again, God is faithful. He's slowly filling up my calendar for me. I know that taking time to thank Him for these blessings disperses the muck in my head, at least for a while!

191. Friends remembering what you love
Remember that beautiful blue and green plate I posted a picture of in January, and how I tried to find something similar to purchase on the Internet? Well, the $50 shipping fee deterred me, but my wonderful friend Nicole found this beautiful blue bowl at a downtown shop and gave it to me for my birthday. I was absolutely thrilled!


192. Surprise parties.
My husband made my birthday especially wonderful this year. He arranged for a babysitter and took me out to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant (well, Laramie only has one Italian restaurant, but it's still pretty good). Then when we got home and I walked into the dark house wondering where the kids were, someone flipped on the lights and a bunch of voices yelled "surprise!" And boy was I surprised! B. arranged it all, including ordering me this beautiful cake.

193. Spanish endearments
"Te Queiro" is the new endearment in our household - "I love you" in Spanish

194. Giving good books.
My friend Heather couldn't make it to my surprise birthday party, but she took me out to lunch at another favorite restaurant (Sweet Melissa's - I love their falafel pita!) and gave me two books, Pegasus by Robin McKinley, and Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. The introduction to Jesus Calling really intrigued me... I'll have to share more at some point.

195. Superbowl commericals.
The SuperBowl came the day after my birthday, and some friends of ours invited us over to their elaborate bigscreen TV/DVR set up, where we could watch our favorite commercials over again, and replay those great athletic feats to our heart's content without missing any of the game. My favorite commercial was the young Darth Vader being confoundedby the automatic starter on the Volkswagen.

196. Ask what's wrong instead taking offense.
Blaze and Dreamer made me adorable birthday cards. Also, I'll never forget the letter Blaze wrote me after I got upset with her for talking back to me, and made her write an apology. It was honest and truly apologetic. And it was illustrated. I love my creative girl! The letter reminded me how important communication is - remembering to ask what's wrong instead of taking offense.

197. Paper fortune tellers.
Dreamer learns how to fold paper to make a fortune teller. These are so much fun! I remember making one to give to B. for valentine's day early on in our relationship. I think I still have it somewhere.

198. Teaching yourself origami.
The fortune teller reminded Blaze of how she taught herself to make a paper origami crane - so she folded up a bunch more of these. You can make them "flap" their wings. It was few months ago that she learned about origami in art, at school. One day she asked me if she could get on origami.com on the computer. She looked up instructions for the paper crane (and several other projects) and taught herself!

199. The first real book your child reads all by herself.
Dreamer read "Small Pig" (by Arnold Lobel) all by herself. A huge jump in her reading progress. I was delighted when she started reading this book, because it was one of Blaze's favorites too.



200. Painted parrots

Blaze painted me this picture of a parrot. I loved it for all the little flourishes she added to it!

201. Little girls excited to get haircuts
I took Serious and Starlet to get their haircut, and they were sooooo excited! While waiting their turn, they could hardly contain themselves. After they got their bobs, they kept posing and preening.

202. Soaking up winter sun.
After a week of subzero temperatures, last Saturday we finally got some sun and warmth again. I couldn't get up enough motivation to go out for a walk, but I did pull my chair over by the big south-facing picture windows, and soaked up the sun - if I pretended not to notice the snow in the yard, it could have almost been a summer day.



203. Map valentines.
B. and I didn't do anything special for valentine day, but after such an extravagant birthday, I didn't expect anything. However, one of my blogging friends on my writer's blog noticed that it says I love maps on my profile, so she sent me a virtual valentine - made out of maps!

204. Reading the Word together.
B. actually gave me the best "valentine" ever - he asked if we could start reading the Bible together each evening. Quality time together in the Word. Right when I need it most. Thank you Lord.

205. Slow progress still bring results.
My writing progress has slowed down since the February blues hit, but I'm still slowly accumulating words each week. I'm at 65,000 words, which is within sight of my goal of 75,000 words by the end of February.

206. It's never too late to remember to praise the Lord.
I had also set a goal of an average of 4.5 for my "seven days" in January (based on Psalm 119:164). I made an average of 4.3 - pretty darn close! February is not doing so well. I would've liked to raise the bar to 5 in February, but I'm probably averaging 2.5 right now. But there is still time! There is always time to praise the Lord, starting now!

207. When God gives you verses.
I have memorized Psalm 119:35-37 and Romans 12:1-2 so far for Beth Moore's 2011. Scripture Memory challenge. What verse do you want me to hide in my heart next, Lord?

208. Elf ears.
B. made his "elf ears" for me last night (pulled the tips of his ears up to make them "pointy"). I mentioned to him once that I thought the elves in Lord of the Rings were, um, you know, s*xy, and ever since then... well, once in a while he makes elf-ears for me. Cracks me up every time. Sometimes he'll also sing me the "She's my elf" song from Veggie Tale's "Lord of the Beans."

209. Enchanting cards.
Oh, I forgot one more wonderful thing from my birthday - Nicole's card. She bought it at the same shop as the blue bowl - the Chocolate Shop always carries the most beautiful selection of cards. Nicole and I both love old-fashioned-type cards, and fantasy-type cards - this one is the perfect blend. (I don't have a scanner, so I took a picture of it, not the best picture-taker, either)


210. Christmas lights in kids' rooms.
I am sitting on my sofa writing this, with my laptop (Liz) on a pillow on my lap, and I'm sitting in direction such that I can see up the stairs to the open door of my daughters' bedroom. Blaze strung an extra strand of Christmas lights in her room, and I let her keep them up, though she can only turn them on weekend nights. It is so nice sitting here seeing her cheery lights, knowing my four girls are up there in their beds, and I can go tiptoe into their rooms and kiss them in their sweet sleep.

211. Learning something new every week.
I have found a new blog to love. I linked to one of Saumya's posts in January, too. I love ALL of her posts. But here is another one in particular: This Week I Learned.... . I would also like to add things I'm learning, among these gifts I've listed. Teach me Lord what I need to learn this week. You are teaching me something through this depression; I'm just not sure what it is, yet.

A Grief Observed

This post is part of the C.S. Lewis book club hosted at the Quiet Quill - stop by there to read other discussions on this book. Next month we'll be discussing Out of the Silent Planet.

C.S. Lewis poured out his grief in his journals after the death of his wife, which became this, his last published book (he died three years after his wife). 

Lewis' most popular book (after the Chronicles of Narnia series) is the great defense of the Christian faith, Mere Christianity. But when faced with devastating loss and suffering, Lewis starts to question many of the statements of his own faith.


Here is just a short list of some of the effects of grief Lewis experienced:

• There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says
• Then comes a red-hot jab of memory and all this "commonsense" vanishes like an ant in the mouth of a furnace
• An odd by-product of my loss is that I'm aware of being an embarrassment to everyone I meet
• Part of the misery is... the misery's shadow... the fact that you don't merely suffer, but you have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer
• Grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense. Or like waiting...it gives life a permanently provisional feeling. It doesn't seem worth starting anything...
• Up till this I always had too little time Now there is nothing but time. Almost pure time, empty successiveness.
• At present I am learning to get about on crutches. Perhaps I shall eventually be given a wooden leg. But I shall never be a biped again.
• Reality, looked at steadily, is unbearable
• Meanwhile, where is God? ...go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what to do you find? A door slammed in your face.
• Time after time, when He seemed most gracious, He was really preparing the next torture
• Aren't all these notes the senseless writings of a man who won't accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it?

I have to admit, I have no direct experience with grief. I have not yet lost a close loved one. But after reading this and seeing others struggle through it, I would almost rather be the one to die, than the loved one left behind. But that is a selfish statement, and one of poor faith. Just as no path to salvation is the same, no path to love is same, nor path through love is the same, so I am sure no single path through grief is the same, either. My pastor and his wife, who lost a son, describe grace upon grace that carried them through their grief as if in the very arms of God.


Another hard statement that Lewis made:

Talk to me about the truth of religion and I'll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I'll listen submissively. But don't come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don't understand.

I can understand where he's coming from here. Though I have not struggled with grief, I have suffered with depression, (a much more selfish relative of grief). It does no good when people try to comfort or encourage me in this state. There is no consolation in religion when facing grief or other forms of suffering, except the fact that God is in control and he sees the bigger picture we cannot yet see. And that is a hard fact to cling to. Sometimes you grasp it; other times the best you can do is cry, "I believe - help my unbelief." In the worst of times, like Lewis, you loathe God as a sadist, or in my case, berate myself for ever believing in Him and his very out-of-date Word in the first place.


Lewis refers to the notion of the hope of future family reunions on "the furthest shore" as foolishness:

There's not a word of it in the Bible. We know it rings false. We know it couldn't be like that. Reality never repeats. The exact same thing is never taken away and given back.

On the other hand, there is Biblical assurance that there will be no more tears when God creates the new heaven and earth. But Lewis is right on one thing: it won't be the same. We know, for instance, that there is no marriage in heaven, as there is on earth.  I am now curious to read what Lewis writes in his book "The Business of Heaven." I find it interesting, and a bit odd, that Lewis never mentions any of his previous work, either to defend it or refute it.  He says simply this:

Heaven will solve our problems, but not, I think, by showing us subtle reconciliations between all our apparently contradictory notions. The notions will all be knocked down from under our feet. We shall see that there never was any problem.

I also struggled to understand what Lewis meant by this statement:

I begin to see. My love for H. was of much the same quality as my faith in God... But neither was the thing I thought it was.

 Then a whole chapter later, almost near the end, this:

My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it Himself. He is the great iconoclast. Could we not almost say that this shattering is one of the marks of His presence? The Incarnation is the supreme example; it leaves all previous ideas of the Messiah in ruins... All reality is iconoclastic. The earthly beloved, even in this life, incessantly triumphs over your mere idea of her.

(I had to look up the meaning of iconoclast: a breaker or destroyer of images, esp. those set up for religious veneration; a person who attacks cherished beliefs, traditional institutions).

This idea of God using various means - suffering, including death - to shatter our conceptions of Him in order to know Him better (and likewise with our loved ones) is also expressed here:

Bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love. It follows marriage as normally as marriage follows courtship or as autumn follows summer. It is not  a truncation of the process but one of its phases; not the interruption of the dance, but the next figure. We are "taken out of ourselves" by the loved one while she is here. Then comes the tragic figure of the dance in which we must learn to be still taken out of ourselves, though the bodily presence is withdrawn, to love the very her, and not fall back to loving our past, or our memory, or our sorrow, or relief from sorrow, or our own love.

In other words, I think, we don't know how full, how deep our faith in God can go, or the same for our love for a beloved, until we reach the point where we have to go on without their presence. Even Jesus knew a moment where he cried, "My God, why have you forsaken me?"

God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I that didn't.

1000 gifts: cat on your lap edition

I'm loving my calendar this year - challenged myself to fill up every day in January with something fun or interesting that I discovered (like books, movies, quotes, things I'd like to buy on ebay, ha ha) or anything else praise-worthy. I tell you, God loves to rise to a challenge like this: on some days He gives me so much I can hardly fit it in the small spaces (even using short keywords).

169. Lap cats.
I was just complaining recently how our cat, Cleo, has turned out to be a bit of disappointment. I picked her out of the animal shelter litters specifically because she has the loudest purr - and I never hear her purr anymore. She's three years old now but still hasn't coddled up to us (though I can't blame her with four hyper kids running around and my husband who loves to tease her). But she must have overhead me, becaue just last night she hopped up on my lap while I was reading and stayed curled up for at least two hours, even through several interruptions. Dare I hope? I finally have a lap cat again?

Photo cred

170. Uzbekistan plates.

I fell in love with this gorgeous plate (from Uzbekistan! didn't know they were so famous for their ceramic designs! - see gift #189 for more details) and tried to find something similar on E-bay. Didn't find anything there but then found another website selling Uzbek pottery. Found a similar plate for $20.00 - so excited until I checked the shipping - $50.00 more. Oh well, it still looks amazing on my blog.

171. Reclining chairs in motels
Last week I got to travel up to Casper to teach a new two-day Introduction to GIS class to twelve students. I ended up working until 2 am getting the materials ready and my learning objectives and demos, but fortunately I had thought to bring along my new iHome so I could listen to my favorite tunes while working, and also fortunately the motel had a recliner chair - I've never seen a recliner in a motel room before but what a great idea. (It makes working with a laptop so much more comfy!) Also fortunately the class went off really well; with brand new last-minute materials this was a huge relief.

172. Surprise lunches
B. also got sent up to Casper for the day for his job. We were able to have lunch together - a nice surprise.

173. Pink snow.
Driving back from Casper to Laramie, I encountered one of those scary ground blizzards, the kind where the snow blows across the road in sheets so that you can barely see the road ahead of you - and yet the sky is clear above you! For a while it was scary driving. But also beautiful driving, because while the ground had turned pure white, right above it I was treated to a beautiful sunset. The combination resulted in moments of translucent pink snow, almost like a pink fog.

174. Not being afraid to be your real self.
Finished reading Wings, by Aprilynne Pike, so good I couldn't put it down and (shame on me!) actually skipped work on Friday to finish it! (After having already put in 40 hours of work for that class though, I don't think it was unreasonable to take the day off.) It's a young adult "fairy tale" but the fairies are not what you would expect. But what I really loved about it were the three high school teenagers - they weren't afraid to be themselves, which is such a rarity with all the peer pressure in high school. It inspired to post on my writing blog about the spirit of not being afraid to tell the world "this is who I am, this is what I'm passionate about." Here's another great motivational writing post that was a gift this past week: Certainty and Uncertainty

175. Kids making up stories.
Four-year old Serious picked up one of Dreamer's bear books and started "reading it." So cute to listen to her make up the story.

176. Homestretches.
On Saturday I had a great day writing - wrote over 3200 words and am now at 58,200+ words on my historical fantasy novel, heading into the homestretch.

177. The King's Speech
Nicole and I watched the movie "The King's Speech" - can easily see why it has twelve Academy nominations. It was such a richly layered movie too - about much more than overcoming speech imediments. It's about trusting your voice, what you have to say, overcoming prejudice (and the worst sort, the kind that comes from dysfunctional families) and about breaking down class barriers, too. Loved it - especially the pre-coronation scene in Westminster Abbey - that scene is priceless! As is the King's first war-time speech.

178. Grandma's apple dumplings
Sunday night, Mom made us Grandma's apple dumplings as a "going away" gift (she and Dad getting ready to leave for South Carolina).

179. Clementine oranges.
A semi-truck overturned on the interstate and as a result Laramie was deluged with boxes of free Clementine oranges. We got two boxes, and the kids went crazy over them, eating them like candy! They are the most wonderful little fruits - easy to peel and super sweet and it's wonderful to see kids love fruit so much.

180. High lux lamps.
I haven't used my SunBox lamp (high lux lamp designed to prevent Seasonal Affective Disorder) in several years; after I had the twins, I didn't experience any SAD for several years. But then it caught up with me and I had a run with depression last March through May. So to try to prevent it this year, I set up the lamp on my work desk. I forgot how good it feels to get that healthy light on a regular basis. So glad it still works after sitting unused for almost 5 years.

181. Kids telling Bible stories
One of Dreamer's requirements for her Sparkies club was to tell her family a story about a Bible character. She told B. and I a very accurate version of Paul's conversion. She loves telling Bible stories, and I love to hear her tell them.

182. "See you in my dreams".
B. and I have been into submarine movies lately. He found a cheap DVD of "Hunt for Red October", and we both loved seeing that again so much, that I hunted down a used copy of "Crimson Tide" with one of my favorite actors, Denzel Washington. It was even better than I had remembered. And there's this great line: as Denzel says goodbye to his family before boarding the sub, he tells his wife, "See you in my dreams." The next morning, when B. kissed me goodbye before heading off to work, he added "see you in my dreams."

183. Someone else brushing your hair.The twins took turns brushing my hair while I read to them at bed time. Getting your hair brushed is one of the most luxurious feelings, almost as good as a massage.

184. Neighbors visiting.
Wednesday morning I hosted our women's Bible study at my house. One of my neighbors - I didn't even know she went to our church (one of the disadvantages of our church growing in numbers) - asked if she could come and of course I was thrilled that she came!

Photo credit

185. Train stations.
Wednesday afternoon I drove my parents to Denver, to the train station downtown. Dad does not like to fly anymore, so they are taking Amtrak to Savannah, a two day, three night trip via Chicago and D.C. Mom was so excited! We all took a train trip across Canada when I was a little girl (too young for me to remember, unfortunately) but my parents have great memories of it. I have to admit I was a bit envious. After we checked their baggage in, we headed across the street from the train station to an Italian restaurant and had a toast to their trip. I only wish we'd had some extra time to walk around downtown Denver a bit more. I love downtown with all the shops, the beautiful buildings and the little squares.

186. Scripture memory challenges.
Continuing to get great things about of Beth Moore's Breaking Free workbook. Also, I have now memorized my first two sets of verses for Beth Moore's scripture memory challenge.


187. Beth Moore-isms
Speaking of Beth Moore, she comes up with the funniest sayings on her blog. Last week it was "I dare say that we may be a tad cheesy in Siestaville but we try to keep our Velveeta loaded with jalapenos" and this week she quipped "most of my revivals come from survivals".

188. Ribbons on violins.
Blaze has renewed excitement about her violin lessons - the students now get to add brightly colored ribbons to their violins whenever they "pass" a song (play the song and its variations correctly). She got her first ribbon and is practicing "Boil Them Cabbage" and "Twinkle Little Star" like crazy to get her next ribbons.

Photo credit

189. Blue ceramic tiled buildings
During the semester, our department hosts a speaker series along with the Geography department. Some of the talks can be very dry research-related stuff, but yesterday's talk was fascinating! It was about the drying up of the Aral Sea in Uzebekistan. It's been a huge environmental and health disaster, but there are some hopeful signs of recovery. What I really loved was the background about Uzbekistan, a country I've never paid any attention to before. Who knew? - a fascinating country along the ancient silk road. The city of Samarkand (reminds me of another great book I read recently, The Amulet of Samarkand) is in this country and it is the home of the great conqueror Timur (also known as Tamerlane, relative of Ghengis Khan. There is a spooky rumor about Stalin and Timur's grave that's worth googling). Very famous for its blue ceramics in architecture and pottery, couldn't resist sharing another beautiful photo. (I am such a geography geek!)

190. Mark Twain on ambitions.
Another great quote discovered: "Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions...the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great." Mark Twain

Lest anyone think that my life is all sunsets and happy moments (especially pertaining to this interesting article about Facebook, churches, and the problem of always presenting a happy face to the world), I must add a few more things that I have a hard time qualifying as gifts: my husband worked over 87 hours last week. We are thankful for his new job and finally some steady income, but whoa! I am failing at my simple goal to lose 5 lbs in January. And much, much more serious: cancer continues to haunt us, not with anyone close, but my cousin just found out her dad has terminal cancer. She writes on Facebook "this is the hardest thing I've ever been through."

Thoughts on "Surprised by Joy"

DJ at the Quiet Quill has started a C.S. Lewis book club, where she picks one of his books each month to discuss.  I've read quite a few of his books, but I want to read all of them because I think Lewis is one of the greatest Christian writers ever.

"Surprised by Joy" is C.S. Lewis' autobiography that chronicles his journey from atheism to Christianity (most his youth). He made a point early on in the book that most autobiographies he'd read himself, he found the childhood and early adult years to be the most interesting part, and when I stopped to think about it I tend to agree.
In the first chapter, I was immediately hooked when Lewis described an experience as a young child that I remember (very similarly) from my own childhood:

It is difficult to find words strong enough for the sensation which came over me; Milton’s enormous bliss of Eden (giving the full, ancient meaning to “enormous”) comes somewhere near it. It was a sensation, of course, of desire, but desire for what? “Oh I desire too much” – and before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased. It had taken only a moment of time, and in a certain sense everything else that ever happened to me was insignificant in comparison.

This is his description of Joy and it is so true: after feeling it – and it only comes briefly - the world turns commonplace again. I can think of at least three instances (when I was 8, then again at 14, then at 16 or 17) where I encountered that stab of Joy so intensely that I wrote about it furiously in my diary. By age 20 or so, I had even come up with my own name for it – “Akina” – just as Lewis came up with a name for it, “the Northernness”, during his boyhood.

He associated it at first with nature, then with literature, at times with music, at other times with art. Yes! Yes! Yes! – I can think of music (Gymnopedie by Erik Satie) and art (several paintings by Maxfield Parrish) and books (many, but in particular the Lord of the Rings) that also gave me that momentary piercing Joy. And one time when I was alone wandering through an autumn forest, full of shadows and light, where the memory is still so vivid it almost gives me goosebumps.

I have been a follower of Jesus since I was 23 years old, and yet until I read “Surprised by Joy” I had not thought to see those moments of joy in my childhood and teenage years as pointers toward God, but this statement by Lewis cinched it for me:

The comparison is of course between something of infinite moment and something very small; like comparison between the Sun and the Sun’s refection in a dewdrop. Indeed, in my view, very like, for I do not think the resemblance between the Christian and the merely imaginative experience is accidental. I think that all things, in their way, reflect heavenly truth, the imagination not least.

Lewis goes on to describe other encounters with Joy, and I love this part where he compares those seeking after that elusive feeling to the women seeking Jesus in his tomb after He has risen:

Only when your whole attention and desire are fixed on something else – whether a distant mountain, or the past, or the gods of Asgard – does the “thrill” arise. It is a by-product. Its very existence presupposes that you desire not it but something other and outer. If by any perverse askesis or the use of any drug it could be produced from within, it would at once be seen to be of no value. For take away the object, and what, after all, would be lift? – a whirl of images, a fluttering sensation, a momentary abstraction. … in my scheme of thought it is not blasphemous to compare the error which I was making with that error which the angle at the tomb rebuked when he said to the women, ‘Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, He is risen.”

His story culminates with this paragraph:

Remember, I had always wanted, above all things, not be “interfered with.” I had wanted (mad wish) “to call my soul my own.” I had been far more anxious to avoid suffering than to achieve delight… in the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed; perhaps that night the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not see then what is now the most shining and obvious thing: the Divine humility that will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape?

In my case, looking back to the years when I had little regard for God, I was more like the brother of the Prodigal son, disdaining his younger sibling who sinned foolishly and then came back home repentant. I thought such people were weak and ignorant. Oh my did I have a lot of pride (well, it’s still a struggle). But a couple years ago I posted my own story of and being humbled and discovering God.

CS Lewis uses the analogy of a chess game between himself and God throughout the book which was very apt, but the bulk of this book is more of an exploration of human character (in many fascinating forms), literature and philosophy than of Christianity. Right up until almost the very end, any discussion religion is mentioned only in a detached sense. Lewis makes many, MANY references to literature - very little with which I am familiar, but he framed all his literary discoveries so well that I want to study more classics now myself (especially George MacDonald).

What thrilled me throughout this book were those "a ha" moments that always accompany reading CS Lewis. No matter what point of life he is describing (and I have absolutely no experience with English boarding schools or World War I trenches) he is somehow able to communicate universal human foibles and frames of mind so perfectly (and so eloquently) that you feel like you could pop by his house and have a chat about life over tea as if you were old friends.

I could list a dozen other parts of this book that I loved and found some connection with to my life, as well. But I'm already notorious for too-long-blog-posts... oh, I can't resist. Here's a link to the long version of my ramblings about Surprised by Joy.

Here are some wonderful posts by book club members on this book: Checkmate and Surprised by Joy and other things as well.

Off to read the next book for the club: "A Grief Observed".

Surprised by Joy, the Long Version

This is the long version of my musings on Surprised by Joy, the autobiograpy of C.S. Lewis' journey into spiritual awakening. I really debated whether to post this long version or not. It is over 2600 words, and my notes are very personal. But then I thought about how I would love to happen on someone else's take on the developments in Lewis's life, especially if they discovered similiar parallels in their own life.  So read this or skim this if you really love going long and deep. Otherwise, if you'd like a summary, please go to my short version.

In the first chapter, Lewis described his first few encounters with Joy, as a child, and when he found it in a children’s book it suddenly reminded me of the children's book that I read where I first encountered the same piercing stab of wonder, and a sort of sadness.

The memory of a memory: As I stood beside a flowering currant bush on a summer day there suddenly arose in me without warning, and as if from a depth not of years but of centuries, the memory of that earlier morning at the Old House when my brother had brought his toy garden into the nursery… It is difficult to find words strong enough for the sensation which came over me; Milton’s enormous bliss of Eden (giving the full, ancient meaning to “enormous”) comes somewhere near it. It was a sensation, of course, of desire, but desire for what? “Oh I desire too much” – and before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased. It had taken only a moment of time, and in a certain sense everything else that ever happened to me was insignificant in comparison.

The second glimpse came through the Squirrel Nutkin; through it only, though I loved all the Beatrix Potter books. But the rest of them were merely entertaining; it administered the shock, it was a trouble. It troubled me with what I can only describe as the Idea of Autumn. It sounds fantastic to say that one can be enamored of a season, but that is something like what happened; and, as before, the experience was one of intense desire. And one went back to the book, not to gratify the desire (that was impossible- how can one possess Autumn?) but to reawaken it. And in the experience also there was the same surprise and the same sense of incalculable importance. It was something quite different from ordinary life and even from ordinary pleasure; something, as they would now say, “in another dimension.”

The third glimpse came through poetry. From Tegner’s Drapa “I was uplifted into huge regions of northern sky. I desired with almost sickening intensity something never to be described (except that it is cold, spacious, severe, pale and remote) and then, as in the other examples, found myself at the very same moment already falling out of that desire and wishing I were back in it."

The quality common to the three experiences is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and from Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only in common with them; the face that anyone who has experienced it will want I again…. I doubt that anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and pleasure often is.

He found it in Squirrel Nutkin, and I found it in Felix Salten’s Bambi, which is nothing like the Disney movie, and is full of the bittersweet and many real scenes of suffering that I still remember to this day. I was 8 years old when I read it first and was surprised by how it moved me, then re-read it again many times, no doubt going back to try to find some elusive quality that tantalized me. There was quite a lot of death in that book, and sadness, all mingled with beauty and passion. I still remember the conversation of two leaves just before they fell from their tree into oblivion; his old friend the hare being attacked by a fox; the felling of the great old oak; the way that Bambi moves on after his mother’s death, simply accepting it (how could he?? my heart cried out!); the foolish vanity of one of Bambi’s friends who dies (in a rather gruesome description for a children’s book) at the hands of man, and finally the death of a man himself, and Bambi’s father explaining that there was one even greater than man. He never mentions God, but I wondered if that was what he was referring to. What else?

In Chapter 4, “I Broaden My Mind” – Lewis describes another occurrence that mirrored my own.

But the impression I got was that religion in general, though utterly false, was a natural growth, a kind of endemic nonsense into which humanity tended to blunder. In the midst of a thousand such religions stood our own, the thousand and first, labeled True. But on what grounds could I believe in this exception? It obviously was in some general sense the same kind of thing as all the rest. Why was it so differently treated? Need I, at any rate, continue to treat it differently? I was very anxious not to.

I remember feeling the same way at some point during my high school years. Why should Christianity stand out as the one truth faith among all the other religions? And as a young aspiring scientist, how could I believe in it, when it provided no truth and only a history of violence both to outsiders and dissension, often bloody, within its own ranks.

Then in Chapter 5 Lewis describes his “renaissance” –when he rediscovers Joy again during his boyhood at boarding school.

The authentic “Joy” had vanished from my life: so completely that not even the memory or the desire of it remained….Joy is distinct not only from pleasure in general but even from aesthetic pleasure. It must have the stab, the pan, the inconsolable longing. This long winter broke up in a single moment. Spring is the inevitable image, but this was not gradual like Nature’s springs. It was if the Arctic itself, all the deep layers of secular ice, should change not in a week nor in an hour, instantly, into a landscape of grass and primroses and orchards in bloom, defined with bird songs and astir with running water. I can lay my hand on the very moment; there is hardly any fact I know so well, though I cannot date it…. My eye fell upon a headline and a picture, carelessly, expecting nothing. A moment later, as the poet says, “The sky had turned round.”

What I had read was the words Siegfried and the Twilight of the Gods. What I had seen was one of Arthur Rackham’s illustrations to that volume….. Pure “Northerness” engulfed me, a vision of huge, clear spaces hanging above the Atlantic in the endless twilight of Northern summer, remoteness, severity… and almost at the same moment I knew that I had met this before, long, long ago… and with that plunge back into my own past there arose at once, almost like heartbreak, the memory of Joy itself, the knowledge that I had once had what I had now lacked for years, that I was returning at last from exile and desert lands to my own country; and the distance of the Twilight of the Gods and the distance of my own past Joy, both unattainable, flowed together into a single, unendurable sense of desire and loss… at once I knew (with fatal knowledge) that to “have it again” was the supreme and only important object of desire.

I remember being fascinated with my mother’s copy of Rackham’s illustrations from Wagner’s Ring, especially the one where Brunehilde rides her horse into the fire. But I don’t think the beginning of my Renaissance began until, after several false starts trying to read the Lord of the Rings and failing (it’s not like the Hobbit at all after the first couple chapters!) I finally got into the story at age 14 and was swept away by it. For the next year, every single entry in my journals made some sort of reference to the Lord of the Rings. It grabbed hold me and shook my very soul to the core though I could not exactly say why, but the way Lewis describes his “Northerness” rings true to how I remember feeling.

In Chapter 6, “Check”, Lewis goes on to describe Joy in more detail, and I love how he compares those seeking after that elusive feeling to the women seeking Jesus in his tomb after He has risen.

Only when your whole attention and desire are fixed on something else – whether a distant mountain, or the past, or the gods of Asgard – does the “thrill” arise. It is a by-product. Its very existence presupposes that you desire not it but something other and outer. If by any perverse askesis or the use of any drug it could be produced from within, it would at once be seen to be of no value. For take away the object, and what, after all, would be lift? – a whirl of images, a fluttering sensation, a momentary abstraction. … in my scheme of thought it is not blasphemous to compare the error which I was making with that error which the angle at the tomb rebuked when he said to the women, ‘Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, He is risen.”

This just might be my favorite part of "Surprised by Joy" - the poetry and wisdom of Lewis captured in sweet conciseness:

The comparison is of course between something of infinite moment and something very small; like comparison between the Sun and the Sun’s refection in a dewdrop. Indeed, in my view, very like, for I do not think the resemblance between the Christian and the merely imaginative experience is accidental. I think that all things, in their way, reflect heavenly truth, the imagination not least.

And finally, in Chapter 10, “Checkmate”, the culmination. Like Lewis, I did not like being “interfered” with and I wanted to call my soul my own. I was burdened with a belief in my own goodness and strength and when my world collapsed and I realized how little control I had, I also started to realize how much selfishness and meanness I harbored inside. I had been like the brother to the Prodigal son, disdaining the poor fools who sinned and then came crawling back home repentant. When I read the question “Can we be good without God?” in an article, I continued reading with the intent to debunk such foolishness, and finished it humbled and awed. Like Lewis writes – it was not a decision. It was like awakening from a long slumber. It was like being blind, and then suddenly seeing.

For the first time I examined myself with a seriously practical purpose. And there I found what appalled me; a zoo of lusts, a bedlam of ambitions, a nursery of fears, a harem of fondled hatreds. My name was legion.

I was to be allowed to play at philosophy no longer. It might, as I say, still be true that “spirit” differed in some way from “the God of popular religion.” My Adversary waived the point. It sank into utter unimportance. He would not argue about it. He only said, “I am the Lord; I am that I am; I am.”

Remember, I had always wanted, above all things, not be “interfered with.” I had wanted (mad wish) “to call my soul my own.” I had been far more anxious to avoid suffering than to achieve delight… in the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed; perhaps that night the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not see then what is now the most shining and obvious thing: the Divine humility that will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape? The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in… properly understood they plumb of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.

At one point I disagree (strongly) with Lewis, but at least it is not a major point!

If Theism had done nothing else for me, it had cured me of the time-wasting and foolish practice of keeping a diary.

I love reading my journal entries during the years when God was drawing me, and the first few years after I became a believer when I was learning the Bible and the principle of dying to self (still working on the application part of that). After that, my journaling did change and I find less interest going back and re-reading it, except in those instances when I was whining about something and now I can look back and see how God answered all my whining and worrying – it is a continual testimony to His provision.

In the very last chapter, Lewis brings up his theory about how other religions provide hints or prophecies of the truth which we see finally fulfilled through Jesus. I’m not 100 percent sure about this, but it is an intriguing idea.

The question was no longer to find the one simply true religion among a thousand religions simply false. It was rather, where has religion reached its maturity? Where, if anywhere, have the hints of all Paganism been fulfilled? … Paganism had been only the childhood of religion, or only a prophetic dream. Where as the thing full grown? Or where was the awakening?

If ever a myth had become fact, had been incarnated, it would be just like this. And nothing else in all literature was just like this. Myths were like it in one way. Histories like it in another. But nothing was simply like it. Ad no person was like the Person it depicted; as real, as recognizable, through all that depth of time… yet also numinous, lit by a light from beyond the world, a god. But if a god – we are no longer polytheist – then not a god, but God. Here and here only in all time the myth must have become fact; the Word, flesh; God, man. This is not a “religion” nor a “philosophy”. It is the summing up and actuality of them all.

The ending surprised me, the way Lewis almost seems to discount Joy as no longer of “much importance.” But his analogy here is very apt: 

But what, in conclusion, of joy? …the old stab, the bittersweet, has come to me as often and as sharply since my conversion as at any time of my life whatever. But I now know that the experience… was only valuable as a pointer to something other and outer…. When we are lost in the woods the sight of a signpost is a great matter. He who first sees it cries, “Look!” the whole party gathers around and stares. But when we have found the road and we are passing signposts every few miles, we shall not stop and stare. They will encourage us and we shall be grateful to the authority that set them up. But we shall not stop and stare, or not much; not on this road, though their pillars are of silver and their lettering of gold. “We would be at Jerusalem.”

I love the very last sentence of Lewis' autobiography. It completely grounds him.

Not, of course, that I don’t often catch myself stopping to stare at roadside objects of even less importance.