C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, Book IV, Beyond Personality, "Is Christianity Hard or Easy?":
In the last chapter we were considering the Christian idea of "putting on Christ," or first
In the last chapter we were considering the Christian idea of "putting on Christ," or first
"dressing up" as a son of God in order that you may
finally become a real son. What I want
to make clear is that this is not one
among many jobs a Christian has to do; and it is not a
sort of special
exercise for the top class. It is the whole of Christianity. Christianity
offers
nothing else at all. And I should like to point out how it differs
from ordinary ideas of
"morality" and "being good."
The ordinary idea which we all have before we become Christians is
this. We take as
starting point our ordinary self with its various desires
and interests. We then admit that
something else--call it "morality" or
"decent behaviour," or "the good of society"--has claims
on this self: claims
which interfere with its own desires. What we mean by "being good" is
giving
in to those claims. Some of the things the ordinary self wanted to do turn
out to be
what we call "wrong": well, we must give them up. Other things,
which the self did not want to
do, turn out to be what we call "right":
well, we shall have to do them. But we are hoping all
the time that when all
the demands have been met, the poor natural self will still have some
chance, and some time, to get on with its own life and do what it likes. In
fact, we are very
like an honest man paying his taxes. He pays them all
right, but he does hope that there will
be enough left over for him to live
on. Because we are still taking our natural self as the
starting point.
As long as we are thinking that way, one or other of two results is
likely to follow. Either
we give up trying to be good, or else we become
very unhappy indeed. For, make no
mistake: if you are really going to try to
meet all the demands made on the natural self, it will
not have enough left
over to live on. The more you obey your conscience, the more your
conscience
will demand of you. And your natural self, which is thus being starved and
hampered and worried at every turn, will get angrier and angrier. In the
end, you will either
give up trying to be good, or else become one of those
people who, as they say, "live for
others" but always in a discontented,
grumbling way--always wondering why the others do
not notice it more and
always making a martyr of yourself. And once you have become that
you will
be a far greater pest to anyone who has to live with you than you would have
been if
you had remained frankly selfish.
The Christian way is different: harder, and easier. Christ says "Give
me All. I don't want
so much of your time and so much of your money and so
much of your work: I want You. I
have not come to torment your natural self,
but to kill it. No half-measures are any good. I
don't want to cut off a
branch here and a branch there, I want to have the whole tree down. I
don't
want to drill the tooth, or crown it, or stop it, but to have it out. Hand
over the whole
natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as
well as the ones you think wicked-the
whole outfit. I will give you a new
self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: my own will shall
become
yours."
Both harder and easier than what we are all trying to do. You have
noticed, I expect, that
Christ Himself sometimes describes the Christian way
as very hard, sometimes as very
easy. He says, "Take up your Cross"--in other
words, it is like going to be beaten to death in
a concentration camp. Next
minute he says, "My yoke is easy and my burden light." He
means both. And
one can just see why both are true.
Teachers will tell you that the laziest boy in the class is the one who
works hardest in the
end. They mean this. If you give two boys, say, a
proposition in geometry to do, the one who
is prepared to take trouble will
try to understand it. The lazy boy will try to learn it by heart
because,
for the moment, that needs less effort. But six months later, when they are
preparing for an exam., that lazy boy is doing hours and hours of miserable
drudgery over
things the other boy understands, and positively enjoys, in a
few minutes. Laziness means
more work in the long run. Or look at it this
way. In a battle, or in mountain climbing, there is
often one thing which it
takes a lot of pluck to do; but it is also, in the long run, the safest
thing to do. If you funk it, you will find yourself, hours later, in far
worse danger. The cowardly
thing is also the most dangerous thing.
It is like that here. The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing,
is to hand over your
whole self--all your wishes and precautions--to Christ.
But it is far easier than what we are all
trying to do instead. For what we
are trying to do is to remain what we call "ourselves," to
keep personal
happiness as our great aim in life, and yet at the same time be "good." We
are all trying to let our mind and heart go their own way--centred on money
or pleasure or
ambition--and hoping, in spite of this, to behave honestly and
chastely and humbly. And that
is exactly what Christ warned us you could not
do. As He said, a thistle cannot produce figs.
If I am a field that contains
nothing but grass-seed, I cannot produce wheat. Cutting the grass
may keep
it short: but I shall still produce grass and no wheat. If I want to produce
wheat, the
change must go deeper than the surface. I must be ploughed up and
re-sown.
That is why the real problem of the Christian life comes where people
do not usually look
for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each
morning. All your wishes and hopes for
the day rush at you like wild
animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in
shoving them all
back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view,
letting
that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so
on, all day. Standing back
from all your natural fussings and frettings;
coming in out of the wind.
We can only do it for moments at first. But from those moments the new
sort of life will be
spreading through our system: because now we are
letting Him work at the right part of us. It
is the difference between
paint, which is merely laid on the surface, and a dye or stain which
soaks
right through. He never talked vague, idealistic gas. When he said, "Be
perfect," He
meant it. He meant that we must go in for the full treatment.
It is hard; but the sort of
compromise we are all hankering after is
harder--in fact, it is impossible. It may be hard for
an egg to turn into a
bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while
remaining
an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on
indefinitely being just an
ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go
bad.
May I come back to what I said before? This is the whole of
Christianity. There is nothing
else. It is so easy to get muddled about
that. It is easy to think that the Church has a lot of
different
objects--education, building, missions, holding services. Just as it is easy
to think
the State has a lot of different objects--military, political,
economic, and what not. But in a
way things are much simpler than that. The
State exists simply to promote and to protect the
ordinary happiness of
human beings in this life. A husband and wife chatting over a fire, a
couple
of friends having a game of darts in a pub, a man reading a book in his own
room or
digging in his own garden--that is what the State is there for. And
unless they are helping to
increase and prolong and protect such moments,
all the laws, parliaments, armies, courts,
police, economics, etc., are
simply a waste of time. In the same way the Church exists for
nothing else
but to draw men into Christ, to make them little Christs. If they are not
doing
that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible
itself, are simply a waste
of time. God became Man for no other purpose. It
is even doubtful, you know, whether the
whole universe was created for any
other purpose. It says in the Bible that the whole
universe was made for
Christ and that everything is to be gathered together in Him. I do not
suppose any of us can understand how this will happen as regards the whole
universe. We
do not know what (if anything) lives in the parts of it that
are millions of miles away from this
Earth. Even on this Earth we do not
know how it applies to things other than men. After all,
that is what you
would expect. We have been shown the plan only in so far as it concerns
ourselves.
I sometimes like to imagine that I can just see how it might apply to
other things. I think I
can see how the higher animals are in a sense drawn
into Man when he loves them and
makes them (as he does) much more nearly
human than they would otherwise be. I can even
see a sense in which the dead
things and plants are drawn into Man as he studies them and
uses and
appreciates them. And if there were intelligent creatures in other worlds
they might
do the same with their worlds. It might be that when intelligent
creatures entered into Christ
they would, in that way, bring all the other
things in along with them. But I do not know: it is
only a guess.
What we have been told is how we men can be drawn into Christ--can
become part of
that wonderful present which the young Prince of the universe
wants to offer to His Father--
that present which is Himself and therefore us
in Him. It is the only thing we were made for.
And there are strange,
exciting hints in the Bible that when we are drawn in, a great many
other
things in Nature will begin to come right. The bad dream will be over: it
will be morning.
In Christ,
Teopile/Theophilos Porter
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