In The Last Battle, there’s also the example of the dwarves who insist on believing they are still locked in the dirty dark stable, and even Aslan seems unable to make them realize otherwise. So he seems to say there that it is not God who shuts them out–they’re ‘out’ because they insist on it.
He reflects George MacDonald’s idea that we are either growing better or growing worse–and he seems to indicate that we can grow to the point where we are unable to be saved–as seems to be the case with the Tragedian. Yet MacDonald still believed in the ultimate triumph of Christ.
I’d guess that Lewis was open to the possibility–as seen in the character ‘George MacDonald’ saying, “It may be that all will be well”–only he was not willing to go too far that way. His desire (which I seem to remember from his letters) was to stick with the things common to all Christianity–“Mere Christianity”. But it seems to me that he doesn’t absolutely shut the door on the future.
I think he’s right to maintain that we won’t be saved in complacency–there must be a wilingness to come out of ourselves–which I think he does a good job of illustrating in the Great Divorce. The ghosts have things they cling to, they are unwilling to give up the things that keep them small. It’s true that as long as we cling to our sin, we remain unable to enter the Kingdom. And I agree with him in that from our standpoint there’s no place for complacent assurance that it’s all going to be okay in the end.
But I don’t believe God will abandon any of us forever in the “dirty dark stables” we make for ourselves. If he cannot woo us out with gifts or frighten us out with threats, then the fire will come to burn it down around us. (I wonder what Lewis would say to that idea?!)
One thing I get a kick out of in this quote:
… is that it seems evident that Lewis was of the opinion that Paul was teaching universalism.
Yay! I get to put my many years of Lewiscist study to work!
Lewis was certainly of the opinion that Paul at least seemed to be teaching universalism, and mentioned this several times in various short works. I would have to dig through my collection at work for the entire citation, but one example (repeated elsewhere in an article) came from his introductory comments to a new translation of the Pauline epistles; where he mentions with disdain the theory prominent among liberal and sceptical scholars of his day, and back through a couple of generations before (amusingly not quite so prominent in my own lifetime! ) that Jesus was a nice peaceful man who preached nothing offensive but Paul came along and turned Jesus’ Christianity into threats of hellfire and damnation. “On the contrary,” he wrote (I’m paraphrasing a little from memory, “it is from St. Paul that we have as much warrant as we do that all men will at last be saved! All the harshest words of condemnation in the New Testament were uttered by Our Lord.”
The main reason Lewis wasn’t a universalist, was because he thought Jesus taught something else; and (as he put it once or twice, though I don’t recall if it was on this topic), if there is a difference between Paul and Jesus, we have to go with Jesus. But he was surely aware of other things written by Paul as well, such as the Thessalonian epistles, which don’t on the face of them look overly hopeful for those slated to be destroyed by the presence of the Lord at His return.
So at most he was respectful of the argument for universalism from Pauline data, but was ambivalent about even that; and did not believe anything else in the NT (most especially Dominical utterances) gave ground for it.
"]I will attempt no historical or theological classification of MacDonald’s thought, partly because I have not the learning to do so, still more because I am no great friend to such pigeonholing. One very effective way of silencing the voice of conscience is to impound in an Ism the teacher through whom it speaks: the trumpet no longer seriously disturbs our rest when we have murmured “Thomist,” “Barthian,” or “Existentialist.” And in MacDonald it is always the voice of conscience that speaks. He addresses the will: the demand for obedience, for “something to be neither more nor less nor other than done” is incessant. Yet in that very voice of conscience every other faculty somehow speaks as well—intellect, and imagination, and humour, and fancy, and all the affections; and no man in modern times was perhaps more aware of the distinction between Law and Gospel, the inevitable failure of mere morality. The Divine Sonship is the key-conception which unites all the different elements of his thought. I dare not say that he is never in error; but to speak plainly I know hardly any other writer who seems to be closer, or more continually close, to the Spirit of Christ Himself.
I’ll ask Talbott if he wants to comment on this topic.
Hah, yeah I happen to know a little bit about this topic (it grieves me), especially since I was shocked by Lewis’ seemingly liberal views in my sophomore English class reading The Great Divorce. A tremendous book on Lewis’ thoughts on the afterlife. In that story the damned are allowed to enter heaven and stay if they choose, although it’s usually incredibly unlikely (and he illustrates why due to how fiercely the damned cling to their individual idols), and that one day night will fall in that dark place and nothing will change after that.
Also from the Anthology Lewis wrote on MacDonald, that Alex just quoted from:
Tried to find a quote where I think he says something about no doctrine being as intolerable as ECT, though maybe I just remembered this one wrong:
I believe that Lewis found it hard to believe for the same reason that there were many struggles deep within his own soul which he had not encountered God’s healing on. There’s something of a diary of sorts of his that I flipped through in the library once (back in Texas; sorry, don’t remember the title) where he was basically jotting down his personal, inner turmoil and gnashing of teeth.
My responses to that last quote: it’s not a game, Jack. Fathers don’t play games with their children’s destinies, much less our Heavenly Father. It’s not a competition, either.
There are always reasons why people don’t submit to an ever-loving, always merciful God, and they always involve misunderstanding or ignorance on some level combined with fleshly weakness and internal barriers. It is not up to us to judge. God commanded us not to.
Besides, if there are any reasons why someone would hold out against God forever, isn’t that to imply that there is not enough in God to attract some of His creation, no matter how twisted from their original state?
No, you remembered correctly. Your link was quoting from an article not called “The Problem of Pain” but using some of the same material from that book. (I don’t recall the original article title at the moment.) TPoP chapter 8, after covering the same material (a little differently) adds (4th paragraph for that chapter, his emphasis), “I am not going to try to prove the doctrine tolerable. Let us make no mistake; it is not tolerable. But I think the doctrine can be shown to be moral by a critique of the objections ordinarily made, or felt, against it.”
Alex, thanks for taking the ball on this and rolling with it! (Do you have that phrase?) I need to figure out how to start a post, but that’s next. )
How exciting there will be a chapter from Talbott, about this, in Parry’s book!
So it seems Lewis did not think it possible for certain lost rebels to be found, due to their own inabilities, such that they could be “rebels to the end” and manage to keep “their eyes shut fast.” Maybe MacDonald, even as he was persuaded that God was a cleansing fire, lacked Talbott’s philosophical background to be able to reason how this is possible and persuade Lewis?
When I think of “eyes shut fast” it reminds me of this passage…
This doesn’t sound like a people who manage, on their own, to keep their eyes shut, but rather a God that is working out a plan. I’ve never heard a really good interpretation of Rom. 9-11 like Talbott’s.He effectively points out Paul’s question,about the very ones hardened and the seemingly non-elect in Rom. 11:7, “Did they stumble so as to fall beyond recovery?” and the answer is a resounding, “Not at all!”
The reason we are conquerors is because of “him who loves us” (Rom. 8:17), not because of our own abilities, “desire or effort” to unenslave ourselves as is pointed out in Rom. 9:16. Good then for Lewis to admit that Paul seems to endorse that all men will be saved.
Lewis did not see ways of interpreting passages he considered damaging like the ones Pratt points out…
I wonder if he was familiar with the word “aions” (sp.?) as in the age to come? In any case, Lewis seemed to feel like he was stuck with hell as a final destination and his way of resolving it was to say that rebels harden themselves to the point of no return.
This is particularly what I don’t get because in my Arminian tradition they also will point out that some will just never repent and it’s not that God would ever give up on people. Why this makes no sense to me is because we all start out as rebels and are in need of God’s intervention. It seems to imply that God is only able to save the better hearted ones of us.This does not make sense in light of the fact that God has grace toward us, saves the worst of sinners like Paul himself. And we see just how effective God is at drawing the people he is bent on drawing, through wrath, kindness - whatever it takes!
Thanks, Jason! I knew I had a better memory than that.
Not likely, as he did have higher education:
If you’ve ever read his Unspoken Sermons he’s extremely philosophically astute and has absolutely solid hermeneutics. I think it was just his style. He seemed to grace various topics at will in a half stream-of-consciousness fashion. Lots of analysis, but plenty of poetry as well. He was more concerned with painting a beautiful, and accurate, portrait of God (through reasoning as well as through scripture) than to just try to prove anything to anyone. For, as he said, obedience is the gate to understanding.
Thanks Stellar Renegade for providing that info about Macdonald’s schooling. He is very well educated!
I’m glad about this! Wouldn’t want to hear otherwise.
I would love, with my life, to be able to paint a “beautiful, and accurate, portrait of God”, to point others to a wonderful God that has no darkness in Him at all.
I knew what you meant (although isn’t it “running with it”?). Ever since you posted your aside, I was keen to make it into it’s own topic, and it’s already brought up some interesting stuff. Although it’s a shame CSL wasn’t a closet EU and that he didn’t leave a secret book to be read once he became popular & influential!
While that’s no doubt true, I think (ironically) the problem is more that MacD’s arguments were primarily metaphysical in character (if not rigorously enough so for Lewis). He didn’t engage the scriptures enough, especially on the Dominical sayings, to address Lewis’ concerns about Jesus’ testimony on hell. (I can tell from Lewis’ own report of his concerns, compared to a close familiarity with MacD’s work, that MacD simply didn’t write enough on that topic to have reasonably dealt with Lewis’ concerns.)
Based on my extensive familiarity with his book-length works and articles (though not with his correspondence), I’m pretty confident Lewis either wasn’t familiar with the nuances of “eonian” and phrases like “into the eon”, or else he knew about them but didn’t consider them relevant to the case. He never treats the typical English interpretation as anything other than the typical interpretation. This is despite the fact that he was quite familiar with classical Greek (and indeed was familiar with it long before he converted to Christianity! Nowadays when I read or hear his statements on the topic I want to reply, with his character of Professor Kirk, “It’s all there in Plato! What do they teach in schools these days?!” )
Yes. Yes, exactly! Too-whoo! Too-whoo! Too true, too true!
P.S. As an additional thought based on the thread about the salvation/purification process continuing after death, I wonder if C.S. Lewis became haunted by his Owls in the Silver Chair installment, after realizing that he had not duly researched his subject enough. And if so, I hope they looked a hell of a lot like the Guardians of Ga’Hoole.
P.P.S. And even if not, I should make a comic about it.
I haven’t read the Guardians of Ga’Hoole, but Silver Chair is probably my favorite book in the Narnia series; it’s by far the funniest, and I still get goose bumps when the protagonists are trying to resist the enchantment of the Queen of Underland. I’m kind of hoping that Dawn Treader is the last Narnia book to be turned into a movie, but I’m sure I’ll continue seeing the films even if it’s not.
Dawn Treader was the book I was most worried about being filmed. But Prince Caspian was the one I was second-most-worried about, and they did a fine job with it (minus toning down the religious points). And everything I’ve heard and read from advance screenings so far says they nailed DT triumphantly.
If they can get past DT, which has serious narrative challenges in bringing it to the screen, they should have a good shot at doing the same for the rest of the books. Everything else has strong imagery and a strong narrative flow; it’s just a matter of putting it up. DT has strong imagery, but not a strong narrative flow. PC had a decent narrative flow (with room for improvement) but a lack of strong imagery on the page. (Horse And His Boy has similar problems but not as much of them.)
Alex kindly called my attention to this discussion; and as Bobx3 points out, I address the issue being discussed here in Chapter 10 of Gregory MacDonald, All Shall Be Well. So I thought I would reproduce below a few paragraphs (sans footnotes) where I contrast the way in which MacDonald and Lewis respectively understood the nature of hell.
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Few thoughtful Christians today . . . accept the idea of an eternal torture chamber; and according to some, particularly those who follow the lead of C. S. Lewis, hell is a freely embraced condition rather than an externally imposed punishment. In Lewis’ own words, “I willingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, successful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside.” It is not God who rejects the sinner forever, in other words; it is the sinner who finally rejects God forever. Nor is it God who ultimately defeats the sinner; it is the sinner who ultimately defeats God. So, as Lewis also conceded: “it is objected that the ultimate loss of a single soul means the defeat of omnipotence. And so it does.” But MacDonald found the very idea of such a defeat almost inconceivable: “those who believe that God will thus be defeated by many souls, must surely be of those who do not believe he cares enough to do his very best for them. He is their Father; he had power to make them out of himself, separate from himself, and capable of being one with him: surely he will somehow save and keep them! Not the power of sin itself can close all the channels between creating and created.”
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So herein lies, I believe, the one point in MacDonald that C.S. Lewis seems not to have appreciated sufficiently: There can be no ultimate triumph of God’s justice or righteousness, according to MacDonald, apart from a triumph of his love, because both require the absolute destruction of sin. The failure to appreciate this point fully rendered Lewis’ own defense of hell, as we encounter it in *The Problem of Pain *, fundamentally incoherent. For here Lewis imagined an utterly wicked man “who has risen to wealth or power by a continued course of treachery and cruelty”; then, after describing the man’s wickedness in great detail, Lewis asked his readers to suppose that the man is never “tormented by remorse or even misgivings,” that he eats like a schoolboy and sleeps like a healthy infant, that he is “without a care in the world,” and that he is “unshakably confident . . . that God and man are fools whom he has got the better of.” Would it not be an outrage of justice, Lewis in effect asked, for such a man to remain content with his own actions and never to be forced—even against his own will, if necessary–to see them for what they are? “In a sense,” wrote Lewis, “it is better for the creature itself, even if it never becomes good, that it should know itself a failure, a mistake. Even mercy can hardly wish to such a man his eternal, contented continuance in such ghastly illusion.”
Note the words “Even mercy.” Here Lewis saw, however dimly, why divine mercy and divine justice require exactly the same thing. But the thing that justice requires is the very thing that Lewis’ account of hell excludes; hence, there can be no ultimate triumph of justice on Lewis’ account. For the damned never do discover, on Lewis’ account, that they are “a failure, a mistake”; neither does God successfully shatter the “ghastly illusion” underlying their wickedness. To the contrary, from their own point of view the damned are “successful, rebels to the end,” utterly defeating God’s love for them and thus utterly defeating his justice as well. As I have suggested elsewhere:
MacDonald also understood the nature of hell very differently than Lewis did. For whereas Lewis depicted hell as a place where Satan rules (see The Great Divorce) and from which God is utterly absent, MacDonald regarded both hell and the lake of fire as special manifestations of God’s holy presence. This difference also manifests itself in their respective understandings of the image of fire. According to Lewis, “The prevalent image of fire is significant because it combines the ideas of torment and destruction”; but according to MacDonald, the importance of this image is that it combines the ideas of destruction and purification. As MacDonald never tired of reminding us, “our God is a consuming fire” and the consuming fire of his love will in the end consume (or destroy) all that is false within us: “The consuming fire is just the original, the active form of Purity, that which makes pure, that which is indeed Love, the creative energy of God.” So even the fires of hell exist for the purpose of the ultimate redemption of those in it. “For hell is God’s and not the devil’s. Hell is on the side of God and man, to free the child of God from the corruption of death.” Or, as Paul explained in 1 Corinthians 3:10–15, “the Day” is coming when fire will test the works of Christian leaders and will consume some of their works as if they were wood, hay, or straw (v. 12). Although those whose “work is burned up . . . will suffer loss,” they will nonetheless “be saved, but only as through fire” (v. 15). Alluding to the same idea, MacDonald wrote:
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Some here might also find of interest the following footnote on I Corinthians 3:10-15: “Nor should one take seriously, in my opinion, the ways in which some Protestant theologians and commentators try to explain away the obvious purgatorial implications of Paul’s image here. Perhaps the silliest suggestion would make verse 15 out to be a metaphor for being ‘saved by the skin of one’s teeth’—as if this were an intelligible idea in Pauline theology and as if the relevant salvation were little more than fire insurance rather than, as Paul himself pictured it, a complete destruction of the old person or the false self. And not much better is the association of 1 Corinthians 3:10–15, where fire has a real work of testing to do and actually consumes that which is false in us, with Amos 4:11 and Zechariah 3:2, where the image is that of a brand being plucked from a fire. A far more relevant context would be Malachi 3:2–3, where we read: ‘But who can endure the day of his coming [my emphasis], and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like a fuller’s soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness.’”
Thanks Tom, it’s always good to hear your thoughts
I found your comments really helpful, particularly as I hold both CSL & GMD is such high regard. It’s just such a shame Lewis didn’t seem fire as purifying. The closest analogies I can think of are from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader where Aslan tears the dragon skin off Eustace or maybe the fire-birds that brought fire-berries to Ramandu rejuvenate (vaguely similar to purification?) him. Was there anything in his science fiction?
I think GMD’s perspective sees God as more glorious, all mighty and sovereign. I don’t think the Devil deserves to rule Hell.
Tom, excellent as always. I can’t wait to get the book.
The idea intrigues me so much that I’m determined to sooner or later.
Well I was thinking of the movie. I’ve only seen the trailer, but the owls are awe-inspiring.
Why, so they don’t ruin the other stories? I think they’re doing a pretty good job. Not mind-blowing, but a fantastic way of giving pictures to the stories nonetheless. Dawn Treader does look promising, though.
Awesome.
You mean similar problems to Prince Caspian? Because I think it has the best narrative flow, possibly. Although it’s more of a collection of serials with somewhat of an ambiguous climax. Of course, most of his stories were like that to some degree (non-formulaic, at least), which is what gave them that aspect of realism. I think it’s just my personal opinion.
Good ones.
Nothing direct like that in his science fiction. Although, Ransom does experience aspects of purification/rejuvenation throughout his various ordeals. The science fiction is less allegorical and symbolic (although Narnia wasn’t exactly just a bunch of symbols) and more of a speculative story of the universe that was meant to be fairly realistic and in line with physics and celestial knowledge (of his day, and I think he probably did pretty good, considering what they knew).
No, I enjoyed the first two films, and my wife and I actually own both movies. It’s just that when I re-read a book after watching the movie, what I originally imagined tends to be replaced by what I’ve seen and heard in the movie. But it’s neat to see how others imagined it, even if it’s not exactly what you had in mind.
) that Jesus was a nice peaceful man who preached nothing offensive but Paul came along and turned Jesus’ Christianity into threats of hellfire and damnation. “On the contrary,” he wrote (I’m paraphrasing a little from memory, “it is from St. Paul that we have as much warrant as we do that all men will at last be saved! All the harshest words of condemnation in the New Testament were uttered by Our Lord.”
)
It’s just that when I re-read a book after watching the movie, what I originally imagined tends to be replaced by what I’ve seen and heard in the movie. But it’s neat to see how others imagined it, even if it’s not exactly what you had in mind.