C.S. Lewis's Reflections on the Psalms

I consider this one of Lewis’ lesser works, or minor works, perhaps because it is not on one theme, so it is not as cohesive as other books. Lewis admits, at the beginning, “I write for the unlearned about things on which I am unlearned myself.” He writes as a schoolboy discussing the topic with classmates, not as a teacher who knows so much he doesn’t understand the problem. In other words, it is not so much theology as reader’s reaction.

The problem is how to read the Psalms, how to interpret some of the statements. Lewis starts with the difficult themes, such as expression of hate. For instance, the cursing of Psalm 109, verses 7-11:

When he shall be judge, let him be condemned: and let his prayer become sin.
Let his days be few; and let another take his office.
Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.
Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places.
Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil his labor.

Lewis points out, for the contemporary Christian, this is not a justification for hatred. Rather we should recognize the sentiment to repent of, and the harm done – the hatred caused – by injustice. To quote Lewis, “Take from a man his freedom or his goods and you may have taken his innocence, almost his humanity, as well.”

The next chapter, Death, emphasizes a recurring lesson: beware of reading the Psalms from the contemporary Christian perspective, take into account the context in which they were written. This relates to the chapter on death as Christians think of the eternal life that awaits. In the Psalms there is no eternal life after death.

The book is thematic, each chapter on a different theme drawn from various Psalms. In the chapter on connivance Lewis warns of the sin of self-righteousness, which is expressed in several Psalms. Lewis questions how much a Christian should disagree, or voice disagreement, with “very bad” conversation, e.g. cruel talk about someone in their absence. If the Christian is always disagreeable, he will be called a prig. But Lewis also recognizes there are conversations from which to detract, and being called a prig is inevitable and better.

In the chapter, Nature, Lewis points out the Psalmist is a farmer, so it isn’t the romantic view of nature. The landscape is not praised; the weather is. The effect is the deity is removed from nature (as paganism held), but also makes nature a messenger – a testimony – for the divine Creator, as does the Bible as a whole.

The chapter, A Word About Praising, is a digression, which Lewis offers as possible comic relief. Lewis admits, early in his Christianity, he could not understand worship; God demanded praise? “We all despise the man who demands continued assurance of his own virtue, intelligence, or delightfulness; we despise still more the crowd of people round every dictator, every millionaire, every celebrity, who gratify that demand.” His perspective changed when he realized one way God demands praise is because He is praiseworthy, in the same way the forces of nature demand man’s respect. More important than this is the kind of praise that is the “spontaneous overflow” (I would add “of emotion,” as Wordsworth used to described poetry) for whatever we love. “It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.”

There are two chapters on Second Meanings, which justify contemporary readings and the Christian perspective. Reading some of the verses as prophetic of Christ is not wrong. For instance, Psalm 45 anticipates the Nativity. But the Psalmist may not have known it was prophecy at the time of writing it. For Lewis it is not surprising that the words would take on more meaning with time as 1) he believes God guided the writers of the scriptures, and 2) he believes in the mythopoeic, a term he uses in other essays to describe the truths expressed in myths, including pagan and other religions. Christ not only fulfills Old Testament scripture, but the pagan by “transcending and abrogating it.”

In the chapter, Scripture, Lewis writes a passage important to reading all of his works:

"I have been suspected of being what is called a Fundamentalist. That is because I never regard any narrative as unhistorical simply on the ground that it includes the miraculous. Some people find the miraculous so hard to believe that they cannot imagine any reason for my acceptance of it other than a prior belief that every sentence of the Old Testament has historical or scientific truth. But this I do not hold, any more than St. Jerome did when he said that Moses described Creation “after the manner of a popular poet” (as we should say, mythically) or than Calvin did when he doubted whether the story of Job were history or fiction. The real reason why I can accept as historical a story in which a miracle occurs is that I have never found any philosophical grounds for the universal negative proposition that miracles do not happen."

Multiple Meanings in Charles Williams' The Place of the Lion

In The Place of the Lion Williams writes an elaborate Revelations kind of prophecy, blending realism with the supernatural and symbolic. The place of the lion is earth; the lion is both a Form for the supernatural beings medievalists called Intelligences, and the symbol for man, as the lion in the story is a hybrid of both. This is the opposite of what Williams’ friend, C.S. Lewis, made of the lion in The Chronicles of Narnia, where it symbolized God. In Williams’ book this is the eagle. The eagle is also the Form the protagonist, Anthony, identifies with, if not interchanges with. Other animals represent multiple meanings too, such as the snake is a literal threat to Anthony, as well as a Form, such as Aristotle called it, for the supernatural force to come into our world, and the symbol for Satan or evil.

The mixture of meanings reflects the theme of the other world opening up into, and destroying, this world. Williams portrays the chaos and confusion this could cause, and the various kinds of reactions by characters. The most substantial characters – Anthony, Damaris, his beloved, and his friend Quentin – all have some knowledge of the supernatural world as depicted in literature and the Bible, but they don’t necessarily believe it until it impinges on their world. For instance, Damaris studies and writes her thesis on medieval literature, specifically Abelard. She is aware of the religious beliefs of the period, but she does not share them. They are only of academic interest. It is only after an encounter in which Abelard comes alive, and becomes death, that she realizes the truth – that Abelard was real, not just an historical figure or concept.

Williams integrates his interest in philosophy and literature without becoming overbearing or too obscure (a criticism made by friends of other works of his). Christianity is the true account to which the story conforms, but it also incorporates Plato’s Ideas, Aristotle’s Forms, and the argument between universals and specifics that Abelard became noted for, at least in his own autobiography.

More importantly, Williams addresses the world of academics he worked in all his life. The portrayal of Damaris reminded me of C. S. Lewis, though this was written before Williams and Lewis became friends. Their friendship started with correspondence when Lewis wrote Williams after reading The Place of the Lion. Lewis, like Damaris, knew the Bible and the Christianity medieval philosophers taught. Lewis taught on medieval literature himself. But he did not believe it until his conversion at age 33, in 1931, the year The Place of the Lion was published. In Williams’ book the intellectuals have potential for salvation by their knowledge, but it must become belief, otherwise they may come to their destruction by refusing to acknowledge the truth was ever more than an idea.

Rational Religion

From June, 2005
It is interesting to reflect on how reading coincides with events of life, affecting my perspective, even my actions. A few months ago I was reading the Augustan poets. The Augustan period in English literature, late 17th-early 18th centuries, is marked by Neoclassicism. Authors like John Dryden, Alexander Pope, and Jonathan Swift translated the Greek and Roman authors into English, and added their own writings in similar style, such as their satires. One of the English authors, Joseph Addison, inspired me to start ZED by his version of a newsletter, The Tatler, which he and Richard Steele published and distributed through coffee houses, (yes, the trend in America of reading poetry in coffee houses is not at all new). These English authors worked to improve the ideas, language, and form of English. Works like Pope’s The Rape of the Lock epitomized ‘high’ style in English.

These authors also praised Reason, or rationality. Deism, the belief in God but not his participation in our world, arose as a rational religion. People of intellect taught religious tolerance, avoidance of extreme thinking, and discouraged personal revelation of God. Suspicion and doubt of any knowledge not gained from empirical evidence led to disbelief in miracles and the supernatural. Thus developed the belief – to put it simply for this overview – that God created the world, then withdrew, no longer interacting with mankind. By removing the miraculous, Christianity became a code of ethics, the Bible became a book of wisdom, or a book of manners, but not the truth of God. Christ’s divinity and his redemption of mankind were nullified.

This is still the problem of Christianity for intellectuals; they must decide whether to face towards a supernatural God, one not seen by empirical evidence. This problem, throughout the centuries, has prompted people to search. At the same time I read the Augustans, I also proofread Edwin Abbott’s collected letters, The Kernal and the Husk, (1886). He accounts of his search for rational religion. Following Descarte’s example, he discarded the teachings of others and sought self-tested truths. While reading a work like his I was reminded of C. S. Lewis, who was a rational atheist turned rational Christian.

Some characterize this kind of search as doubt, and handily offer, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test,” Matthew 4:7. But for those who question, if they do not search, they will always have doubt. I understand their desire for reason.

Yet I also understand that God does not reach the heart by empirical evidence. Such evidence would still leave many unpersuaded. Unfortunately, many will not witness the miracles they hope will convince them. How many would like to believe, but at some time in their lives they gave God a great opportunity to do a miracle and he did not? The truth is miracles, by definition, are rare.