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C.S. Lewis--What does he mean by "Mere Christianity"?


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Posted (edited)

In the spirit of thinking about who could be considered a "Mere Christian" according to the writings of C.S. Lewis, I'll drop in the delightful read, from Brazier, a Lewis expert.

Lewis' approach very much values the importance of the creeds, and for the same reason that I held forth for them in the other thread--that they are central to unity.

Unity is theological. It is central to considering the oneness of the Trinity, the oneness of the Church, and the reconciliation of the latter to the former. For those of you who are interested in theosis, or in comparing/contrasting Lewis' musings with what Joseph Smith said about creeds, this should be worthwhile. 

Edit: I bolded a few passages for the sake of clarity.

 

Quote

 

2. C. S. LEWIS: “MERE CHRISTIANITY”

i. “What has been held Always, Everywhere, by Everybody”

Primarily for Lewis the faith is creedal. In expounding what Christianity is about, it is simple: it is summarized in the creed. However, to go further, when questions arise, there has to be a method, a principle by which to address questions, doubts, queries, to expand and expound on the faith. If C. S. Lewis has a method in his theology it is two-fold: one element is broadly Catholic, the other broadly Evangelical (more pertinently, Puritan). First, was an appeal to the basic core of the faith established in the centuries after Christ’s resurrection, a basic core that was essentially complete by the mid-fifth century, but with much of the detail worked out by the mid-eighth century, this common core to the faith was endorsed by Scripture and by the developing church tradition. Writing to the editor of one of the Church of England’s weekly newspapers, The Church Times, in 1952, Lewis commented that, “To a layman, it seems obvious that what unites the Evangelical and the Anglo-Catholic against the ‘Liberal’ or ‘Modernist’ is something very clear and momentous, namely, the fact that both are thoroughgoing supernaturalists, who believe in the Creation, the Fall, the incarnation, the Resurrection, the Second Coming, and the Four Last Things. This unites them not only with one another, but with the Christian religion as understood ‘ubique et ab omnibus.’ ” The phrase “ubique et ab omnibus” (“everywhere and by everyone”) is important. It is from a fifth-century monk by the name of Vincentius of Lérins who was asserting that we should hold on to that which has been believed by all. Lewis is referring to Vincentius of Lérins key work, The Commonitory (written in 434AD), which was written to establish a general or common rule to identify truth from falsity. Vincentius’s rule is in essence succinct and simple: it is the authority of the Bible, holy Scripture. All questions of doctrine and ethics must be measured against the canon of Scripture, answered from the Bible. But this, Vincentius acknowledges, is problematic because there are so many interpretations of Scripture. The rule of Scripture is then qualified by an appeal to that which has been endorsed universally since the earliest days of the church—from antiquity as he puts it, from the earliest times. The clergy and offices of the church imbue the Bible with this authority, thus: “quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus” (“what has been held always, everywhere, by everybody”). So what did Vincentius of Lérins write?—

    But here someone perhaps will ask, since the canon of Scripture is complete, and sufficient of itself for everything, and more than sufficient, what need is there to join with it the authority of the Church’s interpretation? For this reason—because, owing to the depth of holy Scripture, all do not accept it in one and the same sense.
    Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself, all possible care must be taken, that we hold that faith which has been believed everywhere, always, by all. For that is truly and in the strictest sense “Catholic,” which, as the name itself and the reason of the thing declare, comprehends all universally. This rule we shall observe if we follow universality, antiquity, consent. We shall follow universality if we confess that one faith to be true, which the whole Church throughout the world confesses.

In other words, there is a body of doctrine/belief, essentially about Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, which is non-negotiable, authenticated by Scripture, held in faith by all, always, everywhere (hence, universally consented to from antiquity), which was established in the centuries after Christ, in the patristic era, that emerged from the apostles as the authority of the church: this body or knowledge was revealed, cumulatively, but it constitutes a form of revelation.


ii. “I am a Christian, a Mere Christian”

The second element to Lewis’s content-driven method was, like Vincentius of Lérins, to identify a common ground or core, but in this instance to name it and in so doing identify some of its characteristics. The name?—“Mere Christianity.” This common core, this “Mere Christianity,” is then to be used as a measure of doctrine and ethics. Walter Hooper has shown how this element was there in comments Lewis made in correspondence from the early 1930s. Clearly one of Lewis’s prime concerns from the earliest days of becoming a Christian was how non-Christians viewed the confusions and contradiction within the denominations and churches, and how there must be a common ground or core to the faith, which has to be seen as more important than the differences, the contradictions. In the immediate years after his conversion Lewis wrote to a former pupil, Dom Bede Griffiths, a convert to Roman Catholicism, in the context of refusing to discuss with him the differences between the Church of England and the Roman Catholic Church, “When all is said (and truly said) about the divisions of Christendom, there remains, by God’s mercy, an enormous common ground.” Because of the years he spent as an apostate in an atheistic wilderness Lewis was able to perceive an aspect to the church that perhaps those on the inside, so to speak, did not recognize; namely that there was an essential unity that was evident to a greater or lesser degree in all denominations and churches whatever their differences; and this commonality was evident especially (for Lewis) in literature (Beowulf, Chaucer, Dante, Milton, Jane Austen, etc.). This common core is the basis and ground of the BBC radio talks given during the Second World War. It is then outlined again in 1944 in the introduction he wrote to a new edition of a key patristic work by Athanasius (296–373 AD)—de incarnatione verbi Dei (The incarnation of the Word of God). This was translated by an Anglican nun with whom Lewis exchanged correspondence over many years by the name of Sr. Penelope. Here it is given a name for the first time—“Mere Christianity”—a name attributed to a seventeenth-century Puritan from the Evangelical tradition, Richard Baxter (1615–91). Lewis’s research and thinking on this method was interrelated with his writing of the BBC radio broadcasts; he formulated this principle while writing the talks, which then was given its name from his reading of Richard Baxter’s, Church-History of the Government of Bishops and their Councils (1680) sometime in 1943 or early 1944. The term “Mere Christian” or “Mere Christianity” is attributed by many to Lewis, though it is important to remember that he got the term from his reading of Richard Baxter’s work. At the heart of Lewis’s content-driven method was the principle—from Baxter and Vincentius of Lérins—that the revealed deposit of faith contained in Scripture and the patristic tradition was more reliable than much modern theology and philosophy. Therefore anything “new” must be tested against this revealed body of tradition, the deposit of faith, which was at its most intense for Lewis in the church fathers and the Scriptures. Lewis wrote in the introduction to Sr. Penelope’s translation of Athanasius, in 1944:

    A new book is still on its trial and the amateur is not in a position to judge it. It has to be tested against the great body of Christian thought down the ages, and all its hidden implications (often unsuspected by the author himself) have to be brought to light. The only safety is to have a standard of plain, central Christianity (“Mere Christianity” as Baxter called it) which puts the controversies of the moment in their proper perspective. Such a standard can be acquired only from the old books. And that brings me to yet another reason for reading them. The divisions of Christendom are undeniable and are by some of these writers most fiercely expressed. But if any man is tempted to think—as one might be tempted who read only contemporaries—that “Christianity” is a word of so many meanings that it means nothing at all, he can learn beyond all doubt, by stepping out of his own century, that this is not so. Measured against the ages “Mere Christianity” turns out to be no insipid interdenominational transparency, but something positive, self-consistent, and inexhaustible.

In effect, there is a falling away in the intensity of what we say and believe about the gospel as the centuries pass. Therefore, although this core will survive, we need, as the years pass, to measure the new cultural forms the gospel may take against this common core: because, despite all the denominational differences, there is, for Lewis, an immensely formidable unity.
There is an understanding here that he developed further, and, as ever, with Lewis, it is the visual imagery that helps expand and illuminate the concept. In the preface he wrote to the French edition of The Problem of Pain in 1950 where he employs the language of space and relationship. Referring to different churches and denominations Lewis wrote that:

    If the unity of charity and intention between us were strong enough, perhaps our doctrinal differences would be resolved sooner; without that spiritual unity, a doctrinal agreement between our religious leaders would be sterile. In the meantime, it will be apparent that the man who is most faithful in living the Christian life in his own church is spiritually the closest to the faithful believers in other confessions: because the geography of the spiritual world is very different from that of the physical world. In the latter, countries touch each other at their borders, in the former, at their centre. It is the lukewarm and indifferent in each country who are furthest from all other countries.

Therefore, the greater one’s integrity to the revealed truth of the gospel within one’s own denomination the greater one’s unity with other denominations is displayed. The more Christians try to accommodate with the world, the more Christians try to water-down the centre of the faith; the more they reduce and deny the core in an attempt to get along with other denominations (or even other religions), the more they end up as, in Lewis’s words, lukewarm and indifferent.
Lewis continued in the letter sent to The Church Times from 1952, quoted above, “Perhaps the trouble is that as supernaturalists, whether ‘Low’ or ‘High’ Church, thus taken together, they lack a name. May I suggest ‘Deep Church’; or, if that fails, in humility, Baxter’s ‘mere Christians’?” Baxter influences Lewis not only through this idea of being merely Christian but also in his understanding of the church. It is important to remember that Baxter lived at a time when religious civil war had razed England, Roman Catholicism was effectively illegal in the country (while it still persecuted its disobedient faithful in mainland Europe), the Church of England imprisoned people who would not attend its Sunday services and there were numerous Protestant groups who would not even look at each other, let alone talk to each other. Richard Baxter wrote that,

    You know not of what Party I am of; nor what to call me; I am sorrier for you in this than for myself; if you know not, I will tell you, I am a CHRISTIAN, a MEER CHRISTIAN, of no other Religion; and the Church that I am of is the Christian Church, and hath been visible where ever the Christian Religion and Church hath been visible: But must you know of what Sect or Party I am of? I am against all Sects and dividing Parties: But if any will call Mere Christians by the name of a Party, because they take up with mere Christianity, Creed, and Scripture, and will not be of any dividing or contentious Sect, I am of that Party which is so against Parties: If the name CHRISTIAN be not enough, call me a CATHOLIC CHRISTIAN; not as that word signifieth an hereticating majority of Bishops, but as it signifieth one that hath no Religion, but that which by Christ and the Apostles was left to the Catholic* Church, or the body of Jesus Christ on Earth.12

Richard Baxter is writing in the context of sectarian names and labels: he refutes that the claim that Luther was ever called a Lutheran, or Bishop Laud a Laudian. Therefore, he argues that if they insist on name-calling then he is a “Mere Christian.” Baxter can see that despite all the acrimonious disputes and warring between denominations there was a common core that could be seen in most Christians to a greater or lesser degree. This he appealed to and labeled “mere.” Lewis identifies with this. It is important to remember that although in modern English the adjective “mere” denotes that which is solely, no more, or no better, than what is specified (as in the phrase, “mere mortals”), and the word “merest,” is used to indicate the smallest or slightest (as in the phrase “the merest hint”), Lewis and Baxter are using the word with its pre-modern meaning, its Medieval Middle English meaning in the sense of “pure,” “sheer,” or “downright” (meer, from the Latin, merus, meaning undiluted); a meaning that continued into the early modern English of Baxter’s seventeenth century, but was lost with the modern English of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Against “all sects and sectarian names.” Baxter continues: “I am sorry that you are not content with meer Christianity … I would say also that (nor as Protestants) did I not take the religion called Protestant (a name which I am not fond of) to be nothing but simple Christian.” It is this Medieval use of “mere,” more than the modern English meaning, that characterizes Lewis’s use of and invocation of “Mere Christianity.” Therefore Lewis’s appeal was to a basic Christian core, to be simply “Mere” or “Merely” Christian (i.e, pure, undiluted), and that this characterized his most popular book based on the BBC radio broadcasts from the Second World War, published in 1952, entitled Mere Christianity: “The reader should be warned that I offer no help to anyone who is hesitating between two Christian ‘denominations.’ You will not learn from me whether you ought to become an Anglican, a Methodist, a Presbyterian, or a Roman Catholic. This omission is intentional (even in the list I have just given the order is alphabetical).” Lewis’s aim, as always, was to present, in his words, “an agreed, or common, or central, or ‘mere’ Christianity.”15 Lewis wrote to explain the simply basic, the merely, of the faith to unbelievers because the more you delved into the detail, the more denominationalism reared its ugly head: divisions, groupings, mine and thine. Church history had shown Lewis that disputations over obscure points would not help to convert the unbeliever. This in some ways was the aim of the writers of the three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), and Paul in his epistles: to convince people of the veracity of what had happened in Bethlehem, on Calvary, and in the tomb.

    I hope no reader will suppose that “mere” Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions—as if a man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals.

So, Lewis’s writing about Jesus Christ attempts to transcend the differences between denominations while simultaneously appealing back to the early church, the early tradition, and the emerging deposit of faith, endorsed by Scripture, before the fragmentation of the church into denominations and groupings, or the corruption of the Roman Catholic Church in the late Middle Ages which led in part to the Reformation, or the sectarianism of the Protestant and Reformed churches. This simple undiluted “mere,” centered on the God-man Jesus Christ, this pure, sheer, core to the faith, is not the Church of England, it is not the Evangelical churches, it is not Rome, neither is it the Orthodox churches, the Presbyterian, and so on. This basic core, this “Mere Christianity,” should lead individuals into the various churches and denominations, but however different the denominations are this creedal, biblical, patristic core should be present to a greater or lesser degree. If not, then questions have to be raised as to whether such a church/denomination is Christian. There is, therefore, a unity that transcends church boundaries amongst those whose lives and beliefs echo this mere core.


P. H. Brazier, C. S. Lewis—Revelation, Conversion, and Apologetics, vol. 1, C. S. Lewis: Revelation and the Christ (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2012), 105–110.

 

 

 

Edited by Saint Bonaventure
Bolded some text so that readers can better see crucial points
Posted
3 hours ago, bluebell said:

 I like how Lewis defines the word in the preface of the book (page XV).

First, he explains why special definitions of words don't work because they become descriptions of how the person applying it feels about the person or thing, rather than about the person or thing itself.  He uses the term "gentleman" as an example.  It used to mean someone who had a coat of arms and some landed property.  It didn't mean anything other than those facts and wasn't a moral description.  Over time however the definition morphed into something practically useless (according to Lewis).  It started to become a way to praise a man or to insult him (by claiming that he wasn't a gentleman) rather than a description of facts about him.

"When a word ceases to be a term of description and becomes merely a term of praise, it no longer tells you facts about the object; it only tells you about the speaker's attitude towards that object."

There's a lot more to the "over time" aspect of Lewis' perspective.

My perspective is that C.S. Lewis offers a very useful challenge to us all. I think he offers this challenge in the same spirit to me as he would to a Latter-day Saint, to one of his fellow Anglicans, and to his friend, J.R.R Tolkien.

This challenge is sitting there in the passage from the preface that you quoted:

3 hours ago, bluebell said:

"We must therefore stick to the original, obvious meaning [of the word Christian].  The name Christians was first given at Antioch to 'the disciples', to those who accepted the teachings of the apostles....  The point is not a theological or moral one."

CS Lewis definitely would not have agreed with our nontrinitarian beliefs, and he valued the creeds a great deal.  But, his simple definition of Christian does not draw a circle that leaves us out, as we very much accept the teachings of the apostles as presented in the New Testament. 

When Lewis refers to those “who accepted the teachings of the apostles” he is referring to those who accepted and transmitted the deposit of faith. This deposit includes the creeds and historic Christianity’s teaching authority. I believe anyone who reads the block quote I shared from Brazier, which includes multiple direct quotes from Lewis, will not think what I’m putting forward here is unreasonable. I went back and bolded some of the crucial passages to help us be on the same page.

Lewis wants denominational infighting to cease, and so he appeals to the “old books,” to the deposit of faith handed on by the apostles. He believes that the deposit of faith handed on by the apostles is the measuring stick, and not the elaborate theological disputes and emerged “moralities” and "theologies" that crop up between Catholic Anglicans and Evangelical Anglicans, and of course between Presbyterians, Methodists, the Latin Rite Church, and others.

If you’ve ever witnessed the immense heat and little light that can be generated in disputations of emerged “moralities” such as whether priests must wear their collars when going to the grocery store, or whether one can drink a caffeinated beverage and still be righteous, you have the spirit of what he wants to cease.

Lewis wants to buttress Christianity against modernism and post-modernism. He’s a traditionalist, and went further than “valuing the creeds a great deal.” The creeds are vital to the measuring stick he would use to emphasize the central, “mere” Christianity that he deploys in the name of unity. Without the creeds of the first centuries after Christ, his measuring stick is broken and his intention for Christian unity has no foundation.

Posted (edited)
1 hour ago, Saint Bonaventure said:

When Lewis refers to those “who accepted the teachings of the apostles” he is referring to those who accepted and transmitted the deposit of faith. This deposit includes the creeds and historic Christianity’s teaching authority. 

Howso? The creeds and historic Christianity's teaching authority didn't even exist for the people of Antioch.  People that Lewis labels as Christians.

Quote

Lewis wants denominational infighting to cease, and so he appeals to the “old books,” to the deposit of faith handed on by the apostles. He believes that the deposit of faith handed on by the apostles is the measuring stick, and not the elaborate theological disputes and emerged “moralities” and "theologies" that crop up between Catholic Anglicans and Evangelical Anglicans, and of course between Presbyterians, Methodists, the Latin Rite Church, and others.

Can you share the reference in Mere Christianity for the bolded statement above?

Quote

If you’ve ever witnessed the immense heat and little light that can be generated in disputations of emerged “moralities” such as whether priests must wear their collars when going to the grocery store, or whether one can drink a caffeinated beverage and still be righteous, you have the spirit of what he wants to cease.

I'm honestly not sure if you are correct on this point or not.  In Mere Christianity he makes the point that "our divisions should never be discussed except in the presence of those who have already come to believe that there is one God and that Jesus Christ is His only Son" because he believes that such conversations does nothing to bring an outsider into the fold.  But he does not say (that I can remember or find) anything about such discussions needing to cease.  He does say that discussions on points of "high theology" and "ecclesiastical history" should only ever by treated by real experts because lay people would be out of their depth.

Quote

Lewis wants to buttress Christianity against modernism and post-modernism. He’s a traditionalist, and went further than “valuing the creeds a great deal.” The creeds are vital to the measuring stick he would use to emphasize the central, “mere” Christianity that he deploys in the name of unity. Without the creeds of the first centuries after Christ, his measuring stick is broken and his intention for Christian unity has no foundation.

Can you share the reference from Lewis that supports the bolded statement above?

 

*Edit to add--I'm no expert on Lewis, and I'm going solely off of his book Mere Christianity and what he is teaching in there.

Edited by bluebell
Posted (edited)
12 hours ago, bluebell said:

Howso? The creeds and historic Christianity's teaching authority didn't even exist for the people of Antioch.  People that Lewis labels as Christians.

A great question. If you read enough in Lewis, in his letters, interview transcripts, and books, he believes in the deposit of faith. This is an idea that is common for Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglicans (this is especially important for Lewis). Based on the Ancient Christians: An Introduction to Latter-day Saints book that I keep advertising, I think Latter-day Saints can also believe in the deposit of faith, at least up to the point where a Latter-day Saint thinks the Great Apostasy has arrived.

The deposit of faith happened at Antioch, and for Lewis that vital seed is growing and sprouting through the authoritative teachings and creeds of the Church. That "mere" seed, if you will, is what he is appealing to in the name of Christian unity.

12 hours ago, bluebell said:

Can you share the reference in Mere Christianity for the bolded statement above?

I wasn't quoting Lewis, but what I wrote is certainly consistent with the usage by Brazier and is also consistent with Lewis. My copy of Mere Christianity is hardbound, but I'm willing to go through it, and/or add it to my electronic library if that will be helpful. The idea I expressed is nevertheless taught by Lewis in his preface to On the Incarnation: Translation by Athanasius. In that preface he elaborates on what he means by "mere Christianity" and also indicates that that "mere Christianity" is to be "measured against the ages." Of course, he considers the Athanasius' work that he is prefacing to be part of "mere Christianity." I've bolded some particularly salient spots:

Quote

 

Preface
from the First Edition


There is a strange idea abroad that in every subject the ancient books should be read only by the professionals, and that the amateur should content himself with the modern books. Thus I have found as a tutor in English Literature that if the average student wants to find out something about Platonism, the very last thing he thinks of doing is to take a translation of Plato off the library shelf and read the Symposium. He would rather read some dreary modern book ten times as long, all about “isms” and influences and only once in twelve pages telling him what Plato actually said. The error is rather an amiable one, for it springs from humility. The student is half afraid to meet one of the great philosophers face to face. He feels himself inadequate and thinks he will not understand him. But if he only knew, the great man, just because of his greatness, is much more intelligible than his modern commentator. The simplest student will be able to understand, if not all, yet a very great deal of what Plato said; but hardly anyone can understand some modern books on Platonism. It has always therefore been one of my main endeavours as a teacher to persuade the young that firsthand knowledge is not only more worth acquiring than secondhand knowledge, but is usually much easier and more delightful to acquire.
This mistaken preference for the modern books and this shyness of the old ones is nowhere more rampant than in theology. Wherever you find a little study circle of Christian laity you can be almost certain that they are studying not St. Luke or St. Paul or St. Augustine or Thomas Aquinas or Hooker or Butler, but M. Berdyaev or M. Maritain or M. Niebuhr or Miss Sayers or even myself.
Now this seems to me topsy-turvy. Naturally, since I myself am a writer, I do not wish the ordinary reader to read no modern books. But if he must read only the new or only the old, I would advise him to read the old. And I would give him this advice precisely because he is an amateur and therefore much less protected than the expert against the dangers of an exclusive contemporary diet. A new book is still on its trial and the amateur is not in a position to judge it. It has to be tested against the great body of Christian thought down the ages, and all its hidden implications (often unsuspected by the author himself) have to be brought to light. Often it cannot be fully understood without the knowledge of a good many other modern books. If you join at eleven o’clock a conversation which began at eight you will often not see the real bearing of what is said. Remarks which seem to you very ordinary will produce laughter or irritation and you will not see why—the reason, of course, being that the earlier stages of the conversation have given them a special point. In the same way sentences in a modern book which look quite ordinary may be directed at some other book; in this way you may be led to accept what you would have indignantly rejected if you knew its real significance. The only safety is to have a standard of plain, central Christianity (“mere Christianity” as Baxter called it) which puts the controversies of the moment in their proper perspective. Such a standard can be acquired only from the old books. It is a good rule, after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between. If that is too much for you, you should at least read one old one to every three new ones.
Every age has its own outlook. It is specially good at seeing certain truths and specially liable to make certain mistakes. We all, therefore, need the books that will correct the characteristic mistakes of our own period. And that means the old books. All contemporary writers share to some extent the contemporary outlook—even those, like myself, who seem most opposed to it. Nothing strikes me more when I read the controversies of past ages than the fact that both sides were usually assuming without question a good deal which we should now absolutely deny. They thought that they were as completely opposed as two sides could be, but in fact they were all the time secretly united—united with each other and against earlier and later ages—by a great mass of common assumptions. We may be sure that the characteristic blindness of the twentieth century—the blindness about which posterity will ask, “But how could they have thought that?”—lies where we have never suspected it, and concerns something about which there is untroubled agreement between Hitler and President Roosevelt or between Mr. H. G. Wells and Karl Barth. None of us can fully escape this blindness, but we shall certainly increase it, and weaken our guard against it, if we read only modern books. Where they are true they will give us truths which we half knew already. Where they are false they will aggravate the error with which we are already dangerously ill. The only palliative is to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds, and this can be done only by reading old books. Not, of course, that there is any magic about the past. People were no cleverer then than they are now; they made as many mistakes as we. But not the same mistakes. They will not flatter us in the errors we are already committing; and their own errors, being now open and palpable, will not endanger us. Two heads are better than one, not because either is infallible, but because they are unlikely to go wrong in the same direction. To be sure, the books of the future would be just as good a corrective as the books of the past, but unfortunately we cannot get at them.
I myself was first led into reading the Christian classics, almost accidentally, as a result of my English studies. Some, such as Hooker, Herbert, Traherne, Taylor and Bunyan, I read because they are themselves great English writers; others, such as Boethius, St. Augustine, Thomas Aquinas and Dante, because they were “influences.” George Macdonald I had found for myself at the age of sixteen and never wavered in my allegiance, though I tried for a long time to ignore his Christianity. They are, you will note, a mixed bag, representative of many Churches, climates and ages. And that brings me to yet another reason for reading them. The divisions of Christendom are undeniable and are by some of these writers most fiercely expressed. But if any man is tempted to think—as one might be tempted who read only contemporaries—that “Christianity” is a word of so many meanings that it means nothing at all, he can learn beyond all doubt, by stepping out of his own century, that this is not so. Measured against the ages “mere Christianity” turns out to be no insipid interdenominational transparency, but something positive, self-consistent, and inexhaustible. I know it, indeed, to my cost. In the days when I still hated Christianity, I learned to recognise, like some all too familiar smell, that almost unvarying something which met me, now in Puritan Bunyan, now in Anglican Hooker, now in Thomist Dante. It was there (honeyed and floral) in Francois de Sales; it was there (grave and homely) in Spenser and Walton; it was there (grim but manful) in Pascal and Johnson; there again, with a mild, frightening, Paradisial flavour, in Vaughan and Boehme and Traherne. In the urban sobriety of the eighteenth century one was not safe—Law and Butler were two lions in the path. The supposed “Paganism” of the Elizabethans could not keep it out; it lay in wait where a man might have supposed himself safest, in the very centre of The Faerie Queene and the Arcadia. It was, of course, varied; and yet—after all—so unmistakably the same; recognisable, not to be evaded, the odour which is death to us until we allow it to become life:

               an air that kills
           From yon far country blows.

We are all rightly distressed, and ashamed also, at the divisions of Christendom. But those who have always lived within the Christian fold may be too easily dispirited by them. They are bad, but such people do not know what it looks like from without. Seen from there, what is left intact despite all the divisions, still appears (as it truly is) an immensely formidable unity. I know, for I saw it; and well our enemies know it. That unity any of us can find by going out of his own age. It is not enough, but it is more than you had thought till then. Once you are well soaked in it, if you then venture to speak, you will have an amusing experience. You will be thought a Papist when you are actually reproducing Bunyan, a Pantheist when you are quoting Aquinas, and so forth. For you have now got on to the great level viaduct which crosses the ages and which looks so high from the valleys, so low from the mountains, so narrow compared with the swamps, and so broad compared with the sheep-tracks.


C. S. Lewis, “Preface: From the First Edition,” in On the Incarnation: Translation, ed. John Behr, trans. John Behr, vol. 44a, Popular Patristics Series (Yonkers, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2011), 11–15.

 

I believe I've addressed your very reasonable question, and also the quote you offered about the problems of denominational discussion and infighting. By cease I don't mean that Lewis is under the illusion that people will stop straining at gnats and swallowing camels, more like, he wants those conversations to have much less prominence and influence, and for the exact reason you mentioned. Those conversations don't bring people to Christ.

The denominational conflicts of the moralizing and high-flown theological sorts have made Christianity more vulnerable to the criticisms of the modernists and the deconstructions of the post-modernists. There's a lot at stake for him here. 

If one thinks of The Christian Church as the good ship of Christ, as the ark, for Lewis "mere Christianity" is the seed planted at Antioch that spreads out behind the ship like a wake, drawing swimmers along. But folks don't want to come aboard when they see a Catholic hurling a tomato at a Presbyterian, or, very acutely for Lewis, an Catholic Anglican turning over the teapot on an evangelical Anglican.

 

12 hours ago, bluebell said:

*Edit to add--I'm no expert on Lewis, and I'm going solely off of his book Mere Christianity and what he is teaching in there.

I don't consider myself an expert on Lewis; I do consider myself an enthusiastic learner of his ideas. 

I should mention also that I don't think Lewis is trying to draw circles to exclude people, including Latter-day Saints. I think he's trying to outline possibilities for inclusion, and is doing so through the fundamental unity that has been with Christianity all along.

If I may ask, what is it about the work of C.S. Lewis that you find appealing or worthwhile?

Edited by Saint Bonaventure
Posted
On 6/16/2023 at 8:18 AM, Saint Bonaventure said:

A great question. If you read enough in Lewis, in his letters, interview transcripts, and books, he believes in the deposit of faith. This is an idea that is common for Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglicans (this is especially important for Lewis). Based on the Ancient Christians: An Introduction to Latter-day Saints book that I keep advertising, I think Latter-day Saints can also believe in the deposit of faith, at least up to the point where a Latter-day Saint thinks the Great Apostasy has arrived.

The deposit of faith happened at Antioch, and for Lewis that vital seed is growing and sprouting through the authoritative teachings and creeds of the Church. That "mere" seed, if you will, is what he is appealing to in the name of Christian unity.

I wasn't quoting Lewis, but what I wrote is certainly consistent with the usage by Brazier and is also consistent with Lewis. My copy of Mere Christianity is hardbound, but I'm willing to go through it, and/or add it to my electronic library if that will be helpful. The idea I expressed is nevertheless taught by Lewis in his preface to On the Incarnation: Translation by Athanasius. In that preface he elaborates on what he means by "mere Christianity" and also indicates that that "mere Christianity" is to be "measured against the ages." Of course, he considers the Athanasius' work that he is prefacing to be part of "mere Christianity." I've bolded some particularly salient spots:

I believe I've addressed your very reasonable question, and also the quote you offered about the problems of denominational discussion and infighting. By cease I don't mean that Lewis is under the illusion that people will stop straining at gnats and swallowing camels, more like, he wants those conversations to have much less prominence and influence, and for the exact reason you mentioned. Those conversations don't bring people to Christ.

The denominational conflicts of the moralizing and high-flown theological sorts have made Christianity more vulnerable to the criticisms of the modernists and the deconstructions of the post-modernists. There's a lot at stake for him here. 

If one thinks of The Christian Church as the good ship of Christ, as the ark, for Lewis "mere Christianity" is the seed planted at Antioch that spreads out behind the ship like a wake, drawing swimmers along. But folks don't want to come aboard when they see a Catholic hurling a tomato at a Presbyterian, or, very acutely for Lewis, an Catholic Anglican turning over the teapot on an evangelical Anglican.

 

I don't consider myself an expert on Lewis; I do consider myself an enthusiastic learner of his ideas. 

I should mention also that I don't think Lewis is trying to draw circles to exclude people, including Latter-day Saints. I think he's trying to outline possibilities for inclusion, and is doing so through the fundamental unity that has been with Christianity all along.

If I may ask, what is it about the work of C.S. Lewis that you find appealing or worthwhile?

I’m out of town until late Monday, but I will look through this when I get back.  😊

Posted
On 6/16/2023 at 8:18 AM, Saint Bonaventure said:

A great question. If you read enough in Lewis, in his letters, interview transcripts, and books, he believes in the deposit of faith. This is an idea that is common for Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglicans (this is especially important for Lewis). Based on the Ancient Christians: An Introduction to Latter-day Saints book that I keep advertising, I think Latter-day Saints can also believe in the deposit of faith, at least up to the point where a Latter-day Saint thinks the Great Apostasy has arrived.

The deposit of faith happened at Antioch, and for Lewis that vital seed is growing and sprouting through the authoritative teachings and creeds of the Church. That "mere" seed, if you will, is what he is appealing to in the name of Christian unity.

Ok, but I'm still confused.  Because there were people who were Christian before Antioch.  People who followed Christ and believed His teachings.  This idea that Christians didn't exist until Antioch doesn't make a lot of sense to me.  I can't wrap my head around the idea that Lewis believed that there were no Christians until after Jesus' death, for example.

Quote

I wasn't quoting Lewis, but what I wrote is certainly consistent with the usage by Brazier and is also consistent with Lewis. My copy of Mere Christianity is hardbound, but I'm willing to go through it, and/or add it to my electronic library if that will be helpful. The idea I expressed is nevertheless taught by Lewis in his preface to On the Incarnation: Translation by Athanasius. In that preface he elaborates on what he means by "mere Christianity" and also indicates that that "mere Christianity" is to be "measured against the ages." Of course, he considers the Athanasius' work that he is prefacing to be part of "mere Christianity." I've bolded some particularly salient spots:

I believe I've addressed your very reasonable question, and also the quote you offered about the problems of denominational discussion and infighting. By cease I don't mean that Lewis is under the illusion that people will stop straining at gnats and swallowing camels, more like, he wants those conversations to have much less prominence and influence, and for the exact reason you mentioned. Those conversations don't bring people to Christ.

The denominational conflicts of the moralizing and high-flown theological sorts have made Christianity more vulnerable to the criticisms of the modernists and the deconstructions of the post-modernists. There's a lot at stake for him here. 

If one thinks of The Christian Church as the good ship of Christ, as the ark, for Lewis "mere Christianity" is the seed planted at Antioch that spreads out behind the ship like a wake, drawing swimmers along. But folks don't want to come aboard when they see a Catholic hurling a tomato at a Presbyterian, or, very acutely for Lewis, an Catholic Anglican turning over the teapot on an evangelical Anglican.

Ok.  I'm not getting what you are from those quotes (in the sense that it sounds like you see Lewis attempting to argue that the common denominator in Christianity isn't "those who accepted the teachings of the apostles"  but actually something more dependant upon the creeds), but I appreciate the quotes.  It's always interesting to read more of Lewis.

Quote

If I may ask, what is it about the work of C.S. Lewis that you find appealing or worthwhile?

That's a good question.  I think it's the beauty and simplicity that he wrote.  He had an ability to describe things in ways that are really easy to understand and make a lot of practical sense. 

For example, one of my favorite quotes from him is where he describes repentance.  He says, "Remember, this repentance, this willing submission to humiliation and a kind of death, is not something God demands of you before He will take you back and which He could let you off if He chose:  it is simply a description of what going back to Him is like.  If you ask God to take you back without it, you are really asking Him to let you go back without going back.  It cannot happen."

Posted
17 hours ago, bluebell said:

Ok, but I'm still confused.  Because there were people who were Christian before Antioch.  People who followed Christ and believed His teachings.  This idea that Christians didn't exist until Antioch doesn't make a lot of sense to me.  I can't wrap my head around the idea that Lewis believed that there were no Christians until after Jesus' death, for example.

On one level, the reference to Antioch is more a rhetorical flourish than an attempt to advance an academic, historical argument. There's the first Biblical use of the word "Christians" in Acts 11 and there are appeals to the Christians of Antioch that pop up in different ways in different documents. In a Latter-day Saint context, it might be similar to a reference to "Palmyra" or to the "Smith Farm."

There's more going on here, though. There's a long-standing tradition that Antioch has some preeminence in early Christianity, a tradition that is strong in the Orthodox Church and in the Antiochene Rite Catholic Churches. When the media mentions that ISIL is destroying some of the oldest Christian churches and is oppressing some of the oldest Christians, the larger historical context is rooted in Antioch--Antioch that was planted by Paul and Barnabas, Antioch that was liberated during the Crusades, Antioch, where believers in Christ have persisted since the beginning.

If Orthodox Christian makes an appearance in this thread, he may be able to say more. 

17 hours ago, bluebell said:

Ok.  I'm not getting what you are from those quotes (in the sense that it sounds like you see Lewis attempting to argue that the common denominator in Christianity isn't "those who accepted the teachings of the apostles"  but actually something more dependant upon the creeds), but I appreciate the quotes.  It's always interesting to read more of Lewis.

I think I can see where we aren't quite connecting. 

For Lewis, and for Liturgical Christians generally (Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans, some Methodists, etc.), the "mere" or "pure" Christianity is the "teachings of the apostles." That teaching includes Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture, put forward with apostolic authority. The creeds and other contributors to "pure" or "mere" Christianity are seen as implied, elaborated, clarified, and revealed from the teachings of the apostles and by the Holy Spirit. As Miserere Nobis indicated, there is continuing revelation as revealed in the teachings of the apostles. It is downstream from Antioch, so to speak, and so can never contradict the truths that have already been revealed, the truths that Paul entrusted to Timothy (1 Tim. 6:20), the truths that were "once delivered unto the saints." (Jude 3)   

Since I've already become ridiculous dropping in quotes, here's another. This one is from the preface to Mere Christianity. It's a little further along in the preface than the quotes you offered. It's from page xi in my edition. Brazier also cites it, so I'll cut and paste from him. The emphasis is mine:

Quote

 

I hope no reader will suppose that “mere” Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions—as if a man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals.[1]

 

[1] P. H. Brazier, C. S. Lewis—Revelation, Conversion, and Apologetics, vol. 1, C. S. Lewis: Revelation and the Christ (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2012), 110.

 

 

 

Mark Brumley, a Catholic scholar, also wrote this of Lewis (and attributed the quote to Lewis):

Quote

 

Another reason for Lewis’ potency: he was no innovator. He presented Christ and Christianity, not Lewis and Lewisianity. The publisher of that paperback edition of Mere Christianity that I mentioned at the outset got it only half right when on the back cover Lewis was dubbed, “The most original Christian writer of our century.” I say “half right” because insofar as Lewis was a superb stylist who incarnated the Christian vision in fiction as well as essay, not to mention a uniquely effective theological populariser, he was indeed “original.” But he was not “original” in the sense of concocting his own theological synthesis or customizing his own creed. “We are to defend Christianity itself,” he told the Welsh clergymen in his talk on Christian apologetics, “the faith preached by the Apostles, attested by the martyrs, embodied in the creeds, expounded by the Fathers. This must be clearly distinguished from the whole of what any one of us may think about God and Man.”

P. H. Brazier, C. S. Lewis—Revelation, Conversion, and Apologetics, vol. 1, C. S. Lewis: Revelation and the Christ (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2012), 127–128.

 

 

If you insist, I'll purchase a couple of tomes for my electronic library and will cite those, so I'm not relying on Brazier's quotations of others. Sometimes, in my attempts to clarify, I just confuse. I don't want that to be the case.

I do want to ask, though, is Lewis considering the creeds as essential to "mere Christianity" problematic for you in some way? 

 

17 hours ago, bluebell said:

That's a good question.  I think it's the beauty and simplicity that he wrote.  He had an ability to describe things in ways that are really easy to understand and make a lot of practical sense. 

For example, one of my favorite quotes from him is where he describes repentance.  He says, "Remember, this repentance, this willing submission to humiliation and a kind of death, is not something God demands of you before He will take you back and which He could let you off if He chose:  it is simply a description of what going back to Him is like.  If you ask God to take you back without it, you are really asking Him to let you go back without going back.  It cannot happen."

Thanks for sharing this. I also think it's beautiful.

Posted
On 6/21/2023 at 7:23 AM, Saint Bonaventure said:

On one level, the reference to Antioch is more a rhetorical flourish than an attempt to advance an academic, historical argument. There's the first Biblical use of the word "Christians" in Acts 11 and there are appeals to the Christians of Antioch that pop up in different ways in different documents. In a Latter-day Saint context, it might be similar to a reference to "Palmyra" or to the "Smith Farm."

There's more going on here, though. There's a long-standing tradition that Antioch has some preeminence in early Christianity, a tradition that is strong in the Orthodox Church and in the Antiochene Rite Catholic Churches. When the media mentions that ISIL is destroying some of the oldest Christian churches and is oppressing some of the oldest Christians, the larger historical context is rooted in Antioch--Antioch that was planted by Paul and Barnabas, Antioch that was liberated during the Crusades, Antioch, where believers in Christ have persisted since the beginning.

If Orthodox Christian makes an appearance in this thread, he may be able to say more. 

That makes sense.

I think that it also matches what I've been saying, that Antioch isn't where Christians began to exist.  Since the first person believed in and chose to follow Christ, there have been Christians.  I don't believe (though again, I'm not expert on the subject) that Lewis would disagree with me on that.

Quote

 

I think I can see where we aren't quite connecting. 

For Lewis, and for Liturgical Christians generally (Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans, some Methodists, etc.), the "mere" or "pure" Christianity is the "teachings of the apostles." That teaching includes Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture, put forward with apostolic authority. The creeds and other contributors to "pure" or "mere" Christianity are seen as implied, elaborated, clarified, and revealed from the teachings of the apostles and by the Holy Spirit. As Miserere Nobis indicated, there is continuing revelation as revealed in the teachings of the apostles. It is downstream from Antioch, so to speak, and so can never contradict the truths that have already been revealed, the truths that Paul entrusted to Timothy (1 Tim. 6:20), the truths that were "once delivered unto the saints." (Jude 3)

 

I think I understand what you are saying, but to speak to the bolded part above, there was no 'sacred tradition and sacred scripture' when the first person chose to follow Christ.  Something that I'm assuming Lewis understood well.  This is why I struggle with the idea that Lewis includes all of those things in his definition of who is a Christian.  I've got no problem with Miserere Nobis' ideas on the subject (or yours or anyone else's), but that subject seems to be better defined as the full Gospel of Christ rather than the simple definition of Christian (I'm probably not saying that very well). 

As an example I'm thinking of the Eunuch that Philip baptized.  He obviously had no ideas of the creeds (which didn't exist yet).  He knew of no sacred tradition nor much of sacred scripture (it appears he had the book of Isaiah but we know of no more than that).  He didn't even have any teachings of the apostles other than what Philip shared with him in a short bit of time.  And yet, philip teaches him that his acceptance of Christ as the Son of God was enough for him to be baptized.  Enough for him to be considered a Christian, I'd postulate. 

There is the full gospel of Christ, which contains scripture and traditional teachings and doctrine and revelation and ordinances and laws/commandments etc.  But one can be a Christian without a thorough understanding or knowledge of all of that.

But it very well could be that Lewis does not separate followers of Christ from the full plethora of the gospel of Christ that includes its doctrines, traditions, scriptures, and revelations.  And maybe I have misunderstood him all of these years.  

Quote

Since I've already become ridiculous dropping in quotes, here's another. This one is from the preface to Mere Christianity. It's a little further along in the preface than the quotes you offered. It's from page xi in my edition. Brazier also cites it, so I'll cut and paste from him. The emphasis is mine:

That full quote about being in the hall is one of my favorites in the whole book.  I have it highlighted and starred.  And it's one of the reasons that I'm understanding Lewis to be saying something different about who can be considered a Christian than it seems you understand him.

Back to the Eunuch again, but I believe that Lewis would consider him to be a Christian out in the hall, a person who has no idea of creeds or doctrine or the Trinity or what the apostles are teaching but who is still a Christian nonetheless.

Quote

I do want to ask, though, is Lewis considering the creeds as essential to "mere Christianity" problematic for you in some way? 

Not problematic for me personally but problematic in the way that it doesn't really work.  Our belabored eunuch is an example of why the creeds cannot be essential to who is or isn't a 'mere Christian' (to quote the OP).  Because if they are, the eunuch cannot be considered one.

Posted (edited)
On 6/22/2023 at 3:02 PM, bluebell said:

That makes sense.

I think that it also matches what I've been saying, that Antioch isn't where Christians began to exist.  Since the first person believed in and chose to follow Christ, there have been Christians.  I don't believe (though again, I'm not expert on the subject) that Lewis would disagree with me on that.

I think I understand what you are saying, but to speak to the bolded part above, there was no 'sacred tradition and sacred scripture' when the first person chose to follow Christ.  Something that I'm assuming Lewis understood well.  This is why I struggle with the idea that Lewis includes all of those things in his definition of who is a Christian.  I've got no problem with Miserere Nobis' ideas on the subject (or yours or anyone else's), but that subject seems to be better defined as the full Gospel of Christ rather than the simple definition of Christian (I'm probably not saying that very well). 

Thanks for responding and for clarifying some of your thoughts around "sacred tradition and sacred scripture" and how those do/don't relate to "when the first person chose to follow Christ." 

Neither Lewis in Mere Christianity nor I in my responses are trying to make an argument about where/when Christians began to exist. As was indicated in the Lewis quote above, Lewis is careful to say that his project in Mere Christianity isn’t an excavation of that sort. Rather it is a project that he's rolling out within a Christianity that has both Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture. Please don't think me an idiot; I'm taking from your comments that you probably don't agree with what I'm putting forward, and with what I believe Lewis is putting forward. I'm perfectly fine with disagreement about this and am at the same time interested in where you are coming from.

Specifically, exactly where/when Christianity began to exist does seem very important to you.

Maybe I can clarify a bit how Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition relate to Lewis’ idea of Mere Christianity. I’m not under any illusion that my doing so will persuade you to agree with Lewis (or me), and I’m totally okay with that.

For Liturgical Christians, which would include Lewis, the Apostolic Church was commissioned by Christ and has been processing forward under the power and guidance of Christ and the Holy Spirit all along. This doesn’t mean that, for example, someone from the earliest days of the Church was reciting or knowledgeable of the Apostles’ Creed, but rather that what Christ and the Apostles taught those earliest Christians was consistent with the Apostles’ Creed. The Apostles’ Creed is regarded as a summary of Apostolic Teaching, and it and the other creeds and other aspects of Sacred Tradition are regarded as the clarification and elaboration of truths that were always already implicit in that Apostolic Teaching. In sum, from this perspective doctrine develops over time, but it flows from the wellspring of Christ and can’t contradict that wellspring.

Here's what an important document from Vatican II says on this subject. Lewis, as a traditional Anglican, might vary from this a little, but would agree with the general thrust of it. The document might be a little ponderous, but I think it does clarify why Lewis wouldn’t put forward “Mere Christianity” as an alternative to the creeds:

 

 

Quote

 

HANDING ON DIVINE REVELATION

7. In His gracious goodness, God has seen to it that what He had revealed for the salvation of all nations would abide perpetually in its full integrity and be handed on to all generations. Therefore Christ the Lord in whom the full revelation of the supreme God is brought to completion (see Cor. 1:20; 3:13; 4:6), commissioned the Apostles to preach to all men that Gospel which is the source of all saving truth and moral teaching, and to impart to them heavenly gifts. This Gospel had been promised in former times through the prophets, and Christ Himself had fulfilled it and promulgated it with His lips. This commission was faithfully fulfilled by the Apostles who, by their oral preaching, by example, and by observances handed on what they had received from the lips of Christ, from living with Him, and from what He did, or what they had learned through the prompting of the Holy Spirit. The commission was fulfilled, too, by those Apostles and apostolic men who under the inspiration of the same Holy Spirit committed the message of salvation to writing.

But in order to keep the Gospel forever whole and alive within the Church, the Apostles left bishops as their successors, “handing over” to them “the authority to teach in their own place.” This sacred tradition, therefore, and Sacred Scripture of both the Old and New Testaments are like a mirror in which the pilgrim Church on earth looks at God, from whom she has received everything, until she is brought finally to see Him as He is, face to face (see 1 John 3:2).

8. And so the apostolic preaching, which is expressed in a special way in the inspired books, was to be preserved by an unending succession of preachers until the end of time. Therefore the Apostles, handing on what they themselves had received, warn the faithful to hold fast to the traditions which they have learned either by word of mouth or by letter (see 2 Thess. 2:15), and to fight in defense of the faith handed on once and for all (see Jude 1:3) Now what was handed on by the Apostles includes everything which contributes toward the holiness of life and increase in faith of the peoples of God; and so the Church, in her teaching, life and worship, perpetuates and hands on to all generations all that she herself is, all that she believes.

This tradition which comes from the Apostles develop in the Church with the help of the Holy Spirit. For there is a growth in the understanding of the realities and the words which have been handed down. This happens through the contemplation and study made by believers, who treasure these things in their hearts (see Luke. 2:19, 51) through a penetrating understanding of the spiritual realities which they experience, and through the preaching of those who have received through Episcopal succession the sure gift of truth. For as the centuries succeed one another, the Church constantly moves forward toward the fullness of divine truth until the words of God reach their complete fulfillment in her.

The words of the holy fathers witness to the presence of this living tradition, whose wealth is poured into the practice and life of the believing and praying Church. Through the same tradition the Church’s full canon of the sacred books is known, and the sacred writings themselves are more profoundly understood and unceasingly made active in her; and thus God, who spoke of old, uninterruptedly converses with the bride of His beloved Son; and the Holy Spirit, through whom the living voice of the Gospel resounds in the Church, and through her, in the world, leads unto all truth those who believe and makes the word of Christ dwell abundantly in them (see Col. 3:16).

9. Hence there exists a close connection and communication between sacred tradition and Sacred Scripture. For both of them, flowing from the same divine wellspring, in a certain way merge into a unity and tend toward the same end. For Sacred Scripture is the word of God inasmuch as it is consigned to writing under the inspiration of the divine Spirit, while sacred tradition takes the word of God entrusted by Christ the Lord and the Holy Spirit to the Apostles, and hands it on to their successors in its full purity, so that led by the light of the Spirit of truth, they may in proclaiming it preserve this word of God faithfully, explain it, and make it more widely known. Consequently it is not from Sacred Scripture alone that the Church draws her certainty about everything which has been revealed. Therefore both sacred tradition and Sacred Scripture are to be accepted and venerated with the same sense of loyalty and reverence.

10. Sacred tradition and Sacred Scripture form one sacred deposit of the word of God, committed to the Church. Holding fast to this deposit the entire holy people united with their shepherds remain always steadfast in the teaching of the Apostles, in the common life, in the breaking of the bread and in prayers (see Acts 2:42, Greek text), so that holding to, practicing and professing the heritage of the faith, it becomes on the part of the bishops and faithful a single common effort.

But the task of authentically interpreting the word of God, whether written or handed on, has been entrusted exclusively to the living teaching office of the Church,9 whose authority is exercised in the name of Jesus Christ. This teaching office is not above the word of God, but serves it, teaching only what has been handed on, listening to it devoutly, guarding it scrupulously and explaining it faithfully in accord with a divine commission and with the help of the Holy Spirit, it draws from this one deposit of faith everything which it presents for belief as divinely revealed.

It is clear, therefore, that sacred tradition, Sacred Scripture and the teaching authority of the Church, in accord with God’s most wise design, are so linked and joined together that one cannot stand without the others, and that all together and each in its own way under the action of the one Holy Spirit contribute effectively to the salvation of souls.[1]

 

[1] Catholic Church, “Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation: Dei Verbum,” in Vatican II Documents (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2011).

 

I believe that's the general framework with which Lewis is working. It's within this framework that he wants to minimize the sorts of arguments that he fears are not good for Christianity.

 

On 6/22/2023 at 3:02 PM, bluebell said:

As an example I'm thinking of the Eunuch that Philip baptized.  He obviously had no ideas of the creeds (which didn't exist yet).  He knew of no sacred tradition nor much of sacred scripture (it appears he had the book of Isaiah but we know of no more than that).  He didn't even have any teachings of the apostles other than what Philip shared with him in a short bit of time.  And yet, philip teaches him that his acceptance of Christ as the Son of God was enough for him to be baptized.  Enough for him to be considered a Christian, I'd postulate. 

There is the full gospel of Christ, which contains scripture and traditional teachings and doctrine and revelation and ordinances and laws/commandments etc.  But one can be a Christian without a thorough understanding or knowledge of all of that.

But it very well could be that Lewis does not separate followers of Christ from the full plethora of the gospel of Christ that includes its doctrines, traditions, scriptures, and revelations.  And maybe I have misunderstood him all of these years.  

 

On 6/22/2023 at 3:02 PM, bluebell said:

That full quote about being in the hall is one of my favorites in the whole book.  I have it highlighted and starred.  And it's one of the reasons that I'm understanding Lewis to be saying something different about who can be considered a Christian than it seems you understand him.

Not problematic for me personally but problematic in the way that it doesn't really work.  Our belabored eunuch is an example of why the creeds cannot be essential to who is or isn't a 'mere Christian' (to quote the OP).  Because if they are, the eunuch cannot be considered one.

I think that, at least by what you've written here, you have misunderstood Lewis.

However, I'm with you regarding the quote about the "hall." Lewis is pointing to open doors, so to speak, instead of emphasizing the walls, or as you indicated earlier, Lewis isn't trying to draw lines that exclude people. To come full circle with your example, I think that Lewis appeals to "Mere Christianity" on behalf of the Ethiopian Eunuchs of the world and sees the inter- and intra-denominational posturing as making it more difficult for them.

To turn a phrase, I don't think Lewis wants to turn wine into water, as this is what the modernists and postmodernists would do. At the same time, he doesn't want Christianity emphasizing arguments about whether cabernet is superior to merlot.

On 6/22/2023 at 3:02 PM, bluebell said:

Back to the Eunuch again, but I believe that Lewis would consider him to be a Christian out in the hall, a person who has no idea of creeds or doctrine or the Trinity or what the apostles are teaching but who is still a Christian nonetheless.

I'm with you part way on this. I think Lewis would consider the Ethiopian eunuch to be a Christian (although, again, Lewis in Mere Christianity is not trying to find some exact origin point for "Christian."). At the same time, I don't think Lewis would require the eunuch to profess the creeds or to be a theologian who could expound on the Trinity, or anything of the sort. Rather, I believe that for Lewis, what the eunuch would believe would be consistent with the creeds, and with the other pure, that is to say, mere, teachings of Christianity.

The question I'm taking away from our discussion, the question that, for me, is hanging in the air, is: In Lewis' terms, can a Latter-day Saint be situated similarly to the Ethiopian eunuch?

 

Edited by Saint Bonaventure
Posted
1 hour ago, Saint Bonaventure said:

Thanks for responding and for clarifying some of your thoughts around "sacred tradition and sacred scripture" and how those do/don't relate to "when the first person chose to follow Christ." 

Neither Lewis in Mere Christianity nor I in my responses are trying to make an argument about where/when Christians began to exist. As was indicated in the Lewis quote above, Lewis is careful to say that his project in Mere Christianity isn’t an excavation of that sort. Rather it is a project that he's rolling out within a Christianity that has both Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture. Please don't think me an idiot; I'm taking from your comments that you probably don't agree with what I'm putting forward, and with what I believe Lewis is putting forward. I'm perfectly fine with disagreement about this and am at the same time interested in where you are coming from.

Specifically, exactly where/when Christianity began to exist does seem very important to you.

Maybe I can clarify a bit how Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition relate to Lewis’ idea of Mere Christianity. I’m not under any illusion that my doing so will persuade you to agree with Lewis (or me), and I’m totally okay with that.

For Liturgical Christians, which would include Lewis, the Apostolic Church was commissioned by Christ and has been processing forward under the power and guidance of Christ and the Holy Spirit all along. This doesn’t mean that, for example, someone from the earliest days of the Church was reciting or knowledgeable of the Apostles’ Creed, but rather that what Christ and the Apostles taught those earliest Christians was consistent with the Apostles’ Creed. The Apostles’ Creed is regarded as a summary of Apostolic Teaching, and it and the other creeds and other aspects of Sacred Tradition are regarded as the clarification and elaboration of truths that were always already implicit in that Apostolic Teaching. In sum, from this perspective doctrine develops over time, but it flows from the wellspring of Christ and can’t contradict that wellspring.

Here's what an important document from Vatican II says on this subject. Lewis, as a traditional Anglican, might vary from this a little, but would agree with the general thrust of it. The document might be a little ponderous, but I think it does clarify why Lewis wouldn’t put forward “Mere Christianity” as an alternative to the creeds:

 

 

I believe that's the general framework with which Lewis is working. It's within this framework that he wants to minimize the sorts of arguments that he fears are not good for Christianity.

 

 

I think that, at least by what you've written here, you have misunderstood Lewis.

However, I'm with you regarding the quote about the "hall." Lewis is pointing to open doors, so to speak, instead of emphasizing the walls, or as you indicated earlier, Lewis isn't trying to draw lines that exclude people. To come full circle with your example, I think that Lewis appeals to "Mere Christianity" on behalf of the Ethiopian Eunuchs of the world and sees the inter- and intra-denominational posturing as making it more difficult for them.

To turn a phrase, I don't think Lewis wants to turn wine into water, as this is what the modernists and postmodernists would do. At the same time, he doesn't want Christianity emphasizing arguments about whether cabernet is superior to merlot.

I'm with you part way on this. I think Lewis would consider the Ethiopian eunuch to be a Christian (although, again, Lewis in Mere Christianity is not trying to find some exact origin point for "Christian."). At the same time, I don't think Lewis would require the eunuch to profess the creeds or to be a theologian who could expound on the Trinity, or anything of the sort. Rather, I believe that for Lewis, what the eunuch would believe would be consistent with the creeds, and with the other pure, that is to say, mere, teachings of Christianity.

The question I'm taking away from our discussion, the question that, for me, is hanging in the air, is: In Lewis' terms, can a Latter-day Saint be situated similarly to the Ethiopian eunuch?

 

I think that, as long as "the clarification and elaboration" of the “mere” or "pure" are also “pure,” further clarification and elaboration beyond that can also be pure, and that which is “pure” becomes the new “mere” for the next iteration of clarification and elaboration. When the next iteration is not pure, clarification and elaboration in the form of a restoration would be in order, just as Jesus restored the pure meaning of the law and the prophets that had been corrupted in His circumstances (as an example, I see His Transfiguration representing “the law” with Moses who taught and “the prophets” with Elijah, who confirmed or sealed).

Posted
2 hours ago, Saint Bonaventure said:

Thanks for responding and for clarifying some of your thoughts around "sacred tradition and sacred scripture" and how those do/don't relate to "when the first person chose to follow Christ." 

Neither Lewis in Mere Christianity nor I in my responses are trying to make an argument about where/when Christians began to exist. As was indicated in the Lewis quote above, Lewis is careful to say that his project in Mere Christianity isn’t an excavation of that sort. Rather it is a project that he's rolling out within a Christianity that has both Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture. Please don't think me an idiot; I'm taking from your comments that you probably don't agree with what I'm putting forward, and with what I believe Lewis is putting forward. I'm perfectly fine with disagreement about this and am at the same time interested in where you are coming from.

Specifically, exactly where/when Christianity began to exist does seem very important to you.

Maybe I can clarify a bit how Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition relate to Lewis’ idea of Mere Christianity. I’m not under any illusion that my doing so will persuade you to agree with Lewis (or me), and I’m totally okay with that.

For Liturgical Christians, which would include Lewis, the Apostolic Church was commissioned by Christ and has been processing forward under the power and guidance of Christ and the Holy Spirit all along. This doesn’t mean that, for example, someone from the earliest days of the Church was reciting or knowledgeable of the Apostles’ Creed, but rather that what Christ and the Apostles taught those earliest Christians was consistent with the Apostles’ Creed. The Apostles’ Creed is regarded as a summary of Apostolic Teaching, and it and the other creeds and other aspects of Sacred Tradition are regarded as the clarification and elaboration of truths that were always already implicit in that Apostolic Teaching. In sum, from this perspective doctrine develops over time, but it flows from the wellspring of Christ and can’t contradict that wellspring.

Here's what an important document from Vatican II says on this subject. Lewis, as a traditional Anglican, might vary from this a little, but would agree with the general thrust of it. The document might be a little ponderous, but I think it does clarify why Lewis wouldn’t put forward “Mere Christianity” as an alternative to the creeds:

 

 

I believe that's the general framework with which Lewis is working. It's within this framework that he wants to minimize the sorts of arguments that he fears are not good for Christianity.

 

 

I think that, at least by what you've written here, you have misunderstood Lewis.

However, I'm with you regarding the quote about the "hall." Lewis is pointing to open doors, so to speak, instead of emphasizing the walls, or as you indicated earlier, Lewis isn't trying to draw lines that exclude people. To come full circle with your example, I think that Lewis appeals to "Mere Christianity" on behalf of the Ethiopian Eunuchs of the world and sees the inter- and intra-denominational posturing as making it more difficult for them.

To turn a phrase, I don't think Lewis wants to turn wine into water, as this is what the modernists and postmodernists would do. At the same time, he doesn't want Christianity emphasizing arguments about whether cabernet is superior to merlot.

I'm with you part way on this. I think Lewis would consider the Ethiopian eunuch to be a Christian (although, again, Lewis in Mere Christianity is not trying to find some exact origin point for "Christian."). At the same time, I don't think Lewis would require the eunuch to profess the creeds or to be a theologian who could expound on the Trinity, or anything of the sort. Rather, I believe that for Lewis, what the eunuch would believe would be consistent with the creeds, and with the other pure, that is to say, mere, teachings of Christianity.

The question I'm taking away from our discussion, the question that, for me, is hanging in the air, is: In Lewis' terms, can a Latter-day Saint be situated similarly to the Ethiopian eunuch?

 

I think where it breaks down for me is in the OP, where you have taken Mere Christianity (which includes things like sacred traditions, scriptures, creeds, and revelations) and used it to deduce who Lewis believes would be considered "mere Christians".

While I do fully believe that Lewis uses all of those things to define Christianity, I don't believe that he uses all of those things to define Christian.

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