I am quite fond of C.S. Lewis'
writings. I'd say I'm fond of C.S. Lewis, but since I never met the
man personally, that seems to be overstating my position. I've read
much of what he wrote, although I cannot say that I have read
everything. Like many others I enjoy the Chronicles of Narnia very
much. Our children went through a phase when they loved the
Chronicles also. We would listen to the Focus on the Family Radio
Theatre presentation of the Chronicles so often that I felt like I
could recite the lines along with the actors. Now my children seem to
be in a stage of life where the Chronicles do not speak to them with
the power they once did. Perhaps they will return to them. Certainly
they were a foundation stone for my daughter's love of fantasy
literature, even if at present they have receded from her active
memory.
Of the Chronicles, I have always
particularly liked The Last Battle. I love Lewis' portrayal of the
end of Narnia and the unfolding of the real Narnia. I resonated with
the cry to go “further up and further in,” to experience the
unfolding dimensions and depths of this eternal, real realm.
Certainly this was an accurate depiction of what heaven would be
like.
Although I still love the Chronicles
and The Last Battle, I no longer hold to the idea that Lewis
has given an accurate depiction of heaven. I've long understood that
Lewis' thinking was significantly shaped by Greek philosophy and
mythology, as well as the mythologies of many other cultures. I even
understood that this philosophy shaped his depiction and
understanding of heaven and earth. What I failed to grasp though was
the flaws in this. I come from a background that treats Lewis as a
significant Christian theologian. But as Dianna Anderson argued very
well in her recent article, Lewis did not seek to write as a
theologian. He was first and foremost a philosopher and to the extent
that we can consider him a theologian, we must read what he wrote
with a clear understanding of his philosophical presuppositions.
In The Last Battle and throughout his
writings, Lewis views the world through the eyes of Platonic (or
perhaps neo-Platonic) philosophy, which sees this world as only a
form of the real world. Everything about this world is at best an
image of something real. Narnia, as experienced by the various
children who inhabit the stories of the Chronicles, is not the “real”
Narnia, but only a form of it. They only enter the real Narnia at the
end of the series and find that it resembles the Narnia they have
known, but yet is much larger and more substantial. It would be more
accurate to say not that the real Narnia resembles the physical,
earlier Narnia (an imprecise term because the real Narnia is physical
as well, in fact more so, but somehow I must distinguish between the
two), but vice-versa, because the physical Narnia is in fact only a
form of the true Narnia.
I did not realize until recently, and
Anderson's article helped me to solidify my thinking on this topic,
that this Platonic philosophy had come to profoundly shape my
understanding of heaven. I had come to see earth as a poor copy or
image of heaven. We will only experience the true heaven when we
reach it and when we do, it will seem a lot like this earth but
somehow bigger, better, more solid and more real. I can say that
there may still be some point in which this is an accurate
description of heaven, but now, following the exposition of N.T.
Wright, I've begun to understand that this earth was not a poor copy
of something better. It was created in perfection. It's current
condition is not due to any lack in its creation. It is not a poor
copy of something more real and perfect. Rather, it is the real
thing, only affected profoundly by fall and the ensuing influence of
evil over the centuries. It's not that things on this earth are there
just to give us reminders or hints of heaven. Heaven will be this
earth but in the fullness of its created perfection as God originally
intended and formed it.
To some this argument may seem purely
rhetorical, but I think it makes a significant difference in how we
view the world and how we understand what it means to live as people
of faith in this world. In another post related to this topic,
Anderson discusses this in relation to one specific and pertinent topic. I strongly encourage you to read her articles (she has three
about properly and improperly interpreting C.S. Lewis.) If we adopt a
Lewisian theology influenced heavily by Platonic philosophy, we end
up with a sort of dualistic mindset that views this world as
temporary and expendable. It's not the real thing anyway. At best (or
perhaps worst) it leads us to efforts to reshape this world into our
best guess as to what the “real” looks like. But since we don't
know that (since all we can see is the form anyway), we end up just
trying to shape things in the way that seems to best suit our own
concepts. Again, read Anderson for an illustration of this.
If, however, we see this world as the
pinnacle, albeit fallen and deformed, of God's creation, then we
don't have to try to reshape it into some unknown ideal, but instead
can work to mend the brokenness that is painfully apparent. We can
become agents with God in restoring creation to the perfection that
she or he originally intended for it. As Anderson writes:
God did not create this world to be a
mere copy of some other better, more ideal one. This is the ideal
world! All of it. It will be renewed, recreated, and reformed into
the ideal, but it is not merely a placeholder for the ideal in the
meantime. (emphasis Anderson's)
We're not here in the Shadowlands, just
waiting to break through into the real world. I used to think that.
Now I think I was wrong. We're in the real world. It's broken,
wounded, deformed, but this is the real thing. This is the world that
God will renew and reform as/when the Kingdom is fully established. I
don't know what that renewed Kingdom will look like, but I'd sure
like to contribute to seeing it realized here and now.
No comments:
Post a Comment