A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“But though natural likings should normally be encouraged, it would be quite wrong to think that the way to become charitable is to sit trying to manufacture affectionate feelings. Some people are ‘cold’ by temperament; that may be a misfortune for them, but it is no more a sin than having a bad digestion is a sin; and it does not cut them out from the chance, or excuse them from the duty, of learning charity (p. 130).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
I love the balanced and nuanced approach the Lewis takes to the subject of temperament (i.e., personality; disposition: lion-otter-beaver-retriever; Myers-Brigg’s Type Indicator, etc…). I would summarize Lewis’ thoughts on the subject in four statements.
1. Temperament is real. People are different. These differences can be classified in legitimate and helpful ways. Children are born with innate preferences and tendencies that remain constant across the life span, often withstanding even traumatic events or major changes in their social environment.
No one classification system “holds the market” on describing these differences. Each test and classification system embeds certain biases of the author which may distract from pointing people to greater dependence upon Christ. Some people will identify with the descriptions of one test over another; others will reject being classified at all (don’t tell them the tests usually predict that).
2. Temperament is amoral. Having one temperament is not morally superior or inferior to another. There is no “Jesus temperament.” I would go so far as to say that it is unhelpful to depict Jesus as the perfect balance of all temperaments (whether you have 4, 8, or 16 in your system). That has a strong tendency to “make God in our own image;” a tendency Christian counseling literature is prone to do.
Someone may be naturally melancholy (given to depression), analytical (given to anxiety), introverted (avoidant of biblical community), or judging (given to over-confidence). These dispositions would represent their most common temptations, and therefore be considered what Scripture calls “the flesh,” but the pervasive temptation would not be inherently wrong unless acted/fixated upon.
3. Temperament is a moral challenge. Our personality does make certain moral duties more difficult or less pleasurable to fulfill. However, God does not write a unique set of expectations for all 16 combinations of the MBTI.
I believe Romans 12:3 applies to this challenge. Paul warns against thinking too highly of ourselves – a common temptation for each person to think his/her approach is “right” or “obvious.” Temperament, like every other unique aspect of a person, has a tendency to be self-centered. Paul also says God has assigned a measure of faith to each person – meaning some acts of faith/obedience are easier for certain people.
4. Temperament is not who you are. The reason all these things can be true is that there is a “you” who has a temperament. Your temperament reveals the values that you most naturally hold. They were given to you (like your body, talents, and intelligence were given to you) to be stewarded for a purpose.
When we define ourselves by our temperament (or body, talents, or intelligence) we lose the sense that God called “me” to steward “what He has given me” for his glory and begin to fall into pride or insecurity. Both pride and insecurity begin to use God’s gift as a reason why we are the exception to God’s rules.
Posted 5 days, 20 hours ago at 12:16 pm. 1 comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all (p. 128).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
This is my favorite description of humility, because it takes the focus off of humility; which is what I think humility would want if you asked it. When I finish reading the quote, humility feels like freedom more than a standard to achieve.
Yet there is great practicality in the description. A baseline question for determining humility is, “How well do I listen to others?” Listening is an action that bestows honor on others without sacrificing personal dignity or enjoyment.
I think most people get this instinctually. When we are around someone we highly esteem and they ask us a question, we feel honored. We think more fondly of them because they would be interested in our thoughts on the subject. We simultaneously admire their humility and awe at their strength.
Which is why I find it odd that I so naturally thought of humility in the ways in which Lewis caricaturized it. I thought of humility as weakly avoiding eye contact while deferring every compliment and downplaying every accomplishment. I would have never taught it that way but I did “see” it that way.
Part of that is undoubtedly the distortion of my sinful nature. The corruption of my heart would never define something as wholesome and life giving as humility in an appealing way. Culturally, I think this is why so many people who say they want a “high self-esteem” would rather have the “freedom of humility” if they tasted both.
The question becomes what frees me from listening with genuine interest in others (a mark of true humility) rather than listening through the lens of insecurity (pride in its fearful form)? The answer is simply when someone gracious, dependable, and with a heart for the world has become the most important person in my life—namely, God.
In order to be humble the most important person in my life must be gracious. I will fail many times. After all, “nobody’s perfect.” Unless the most important person in my world is gracious, my failures (shame, anger, or blame-shifting) will kill humility.
In order to be humble the most important person in my life must be dependable. Life changes. After all, “nothing stays the same.” Unless the most important person in my world is dependable, anticipating the future (fear or greed) will kill humility.
In order to be humble the most important person in my life must have a heart for the world. I will imitate the most important person in my life. Therefore, unless the most important person in my world cares deeply for people I won’t either. In the end, Jesus is the embodiment of humility (Philippians 2:1-11) and the key to my humility.
Posted 1 week, 5 days ago at 12:13 pm. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“The devil loves ‘curing’ a small fault by giving you a great one (p. 127).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
It is easy to think that moving away from a problem is the same as moving towards something better. But this is the lie behind most of life’s devastating sins. No one runs face first into addiction. They run looking over their shoulder at a lesser problem and into the arms of addiction. Bankruptcy is what happens when you solve every problem (focal point) with your debt (blind spot).
It is easy to think that everyone who sympathizes with your problem is your friend. But this false assumption is the foundation for every scam. A drug dealer needing to make a sale will listen to your problems in order to pitch his “solution.” Sexual predators specialize in listening to hurting kids on social media to serve as an inroad to their trust.
This does not mean that all sympathy is dangerous or that progress is always a mirage. It does mean that our ability to change for the better is hampered when we focus exclusively on our struggle. When we focus on our struggle, even if we are disgusted by it, we get the false notion that different is the same as better.
When you focus on how dumb you are everyone else becomes smart. When you focus on how weak you are everyone else becomes strong. The problem is when you try to apply “their” wisdom, there is a strong probability it will fail and when you try to rely on “their” strength, it will let you down. By focusing upon faults we never gain an appreciation for what is truly wise, strong, and good.
Not only does Satan love to cure small faults with big ones (goal), he seals the deal by getting us lost in our faults (method). This is an ingenious way to blind those who can see. If Satan can get us to look for the wrong thing with great intensity, then we will miss, ignore, or reject the right thing even when we look right at it.
What do I mean? If Satan can get us so focused on our faults that we fail to look at Christ, then we are functionally blind to the wisdom, cure, strength, and hope we need. When we focus on our faults we feel dirty when we look at Christ instead of realizing He will cleanse us. When we focus on our faults we feel stupid when we look at Christ instead of realizing He offers wisdom.
It is by focusing us on our faults that Satan blinds our seeing eyes to true hope and, thereby, makes “greater faults” seem like the only “solution” available. Each time we apply Satan’s solutions we feel more stupid (retrospect proves we can see) and are more prone to use the next “desperate measure.” We feel more dirty and less apt to approach anything clean or pure.
So what do we do? We stop and look to Christ. We gaze at life itself. We marvel at life lived as God intended. We begin to live towards something instead of just away from our faults. We repent of our faults and accept that hope can only be received, not earned.
When this is done, greater faults and false compassion lose their appeal. Our vision is restored. While we may still fall many times, we fall forward towards Christ. We realize we repent instead of making “double or nothing” deals with life. We take sin more seriously but less frantically so that we resist Satan’s offer to exchange small faults with great ones.
Posted 2 weeks, 5 days ago at 2:08 pm. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“[Pride] is purely spiritual: consequently it is far more subtle and deadly. For the same reason, Pride can often be used to beat down the simpler vices. Teachers, in fact, often appeal to a boy’s Pride, or, as they call it, his self-respect, to make him behave decently: many a man has overcome cowardice, or lust, or ill-temper, by learning to think that they are beneath his dignity—that is, by Pride. The devil laughs. He is perfectly content to see you becoming chaste and brave and self-controlled provided, all the time, he is setting up in you the Dictatorship of Pride. (p. 125).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
I think this quote boils down to trying to understand with what’s so wrong with thinking that sin is “beneath me”? If someone is “pro-pride,” they probably aren’t reading this reflection. Few people have a problem with acknowledging that Satan would love to see us lay down a less destruction sin for a more destructive one.
So the point that makes this quote uncomfortable is that Lewis depicts it as Satan’s ultimate setup to get me to view sin as “beneath me.” I find myself internally torn on this one. My gut doesn’t automatically go where Lewis goes, but I agree with the point he’s making. I have given myself the “you’re better than that” pep talk to avoid sin.
As I wrestle with Lewis’ warning about pride, I realize there is a better pep talk to give (and receive). It is the “that is not who you are” talk. The first pep talk was focused on rank and status – better than. The latter is based on identity.
The difference, as I think Lewis would affirm, is that Jesus did not come to make much of me (rank and status) but to reside in me and adopt me (change my identity and name). When I get this I realize sin is not “beneath me” it is “outside of me.” I was born “in sin” and now I am “in Christ.”
The reason that sin is resisted has less to do with my dignity and everything to do with His. If I begin to think about my dignity, Satan has half the battle won. I am comparing sin to me. Sin does not appear nearly as sinful when I compare it with my nature.
The more I marvel at my nature, the dingier my nature becomes and the less I am looking to Christ as my righteousness. Disdain for every sin that is not actively relying upon Christ is the epitome of being a Pharisee—loving the laws that make me look good, because they make me look good and give me status.
If I were to summarize Lewis’s point and application, it would be: If Satan cannot get us to love self by sinning, then he is content to get us to love self by feeling superior to sin. God calls us to find life by denying self and, thereby, experiencing the freedom God intended.
An example might be helpful. Lewis says we can overcome cowardice by pride and this would be a bad thing. The problem would be that you would have to convince yourself you are “above” what you fear. If you fear rejection, then “it wouldn’t matter what people say.” This has the strong potential of giving us deaf ears to important messages of critique.
However, if what people say matters but does not define who I am, then I can be steadfast without the deafening influence of pride. I could face my fear as real, learning from my fear and the words of critique, without having to condemn myself or those who raise questions. That is the freedom of humility.
Posted 3 weeks, 5 days ago at 11:29 am. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone (p. 122).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
My first fear as I read this quote is, “Could I keep my level of motivation if I lost the drive of competition?” For as long as I can remember I have used competition in order to spur me on. I see people who do great things (athletically, academically, or spiritually) and I am challenged to be where they are; energy grows within me as I see someone ahead of me.
As I listen to myself I am taken to Hebrews 10:24, “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works.” Have I misused competition as a sinful application of this verse? Or, have I rightly applied this verse and just used a bad word to describe what was happening?
Competition as Sinful Application
I think the answer is both. There are times when I have wanted to overtake (get ahead of) the one I perceive to be in front of me. The tone of my heart is, “They must decrease (at least by one spot) to make room for me, so I can increase.”
In these cases I want to win. Pride is crouching at my door (Gen. 4:7) and I am welcoming it into my living room so I can use it as a spiritual-steroid. Just like in the Olympics, I become a disqualified contestant in God’s race of faith because I am using the performance-enhancing drug of sin (1 Cor. 9:24).
In these cases even my effectiveness only accelerates my soul rot. I begin to see pride as my “friend” because it helped me “win” and am able to justify it because it was “for God” (such an oxymoron when it comes to sin of pride). Next time I am prone to call my “friend” pride to come help, instead of competitive pride having to crouch at the door and ask to be let in.
Right Action; Wrong Word
There are other times when I think what I am calling competition is merely swept up in the current of another person’s example of excellence. Instead of crying out, “They must decrease so I can increase,” my heart says, “I love where they’re going and want to go there with them.”
In this case I think I am following the relational dynamic recommended by Paul in I Corinthians 11:1, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” The key word that changes everything is “with” instead of “ahead.”
One is built upon a pure desire for mutual progress (with) which is enthused for the example to charge ahead to blaze the trail for me and others. The other is built upon rank (ahead) which wants to see the example fade and treats “others” who may rise up as only “new competition.”
Conclusion
As in all cases of questions asked of the human heart, I find my motives to be neither all bad nor all good. I cannot justify myself even in my “best” (especially in terms of “rank”) actions (Isa. 64:6). But as I see my heart more clearly by the light of God grace, I am freed from the sin of competitive pride, because I realize the prize I was striving for is received, not won.
Posted 1 month ago at 12:12 pm. 2 comments
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“If you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, ‘How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronize me, or show off?’ The point is that each person’s pride is in competition with every one else’s pride (p. 122).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
I think it would be wrong to take from Lewis’ question that one should like being snubbed, ignored, or patronized. There is a healthy level of wanting to steward the voice, talents, and life God has given you that should make these experiences unpleasant to everyone.
Lewis’ question is based upon “how much” we dislike these experiences. Do we walk away disappointed that we did not get to serve in the ways God gifted us or do we replay the offense in our mind for the better part of a week? Do we mourn the immaturity of a companion who would patronize another, or do we internally rage that our “honor” was besmirched?
As I try to think through Lewis’ question, I believe it implies a preliminary question, “Do I have enough of a sense of God’s calling and gifting in my life that I crave to make an impact for God’s kingdom on the world around me?” If so, then I will be bothered when the sin or immaturity of others detracts from those opportunities.
However, if that sense of being bothered is “too much,” then it is a strong indication that the kingdom for which I am trying to make an impact is my own instead of God’s (i.e., pride).When I am advancing God’s kingdom, I realize that others being inconsiderate does little to stop the tides of redemptive history. Their actions are like a heckler at a NASCAR race telling the drivers they’re slow; annoying, but inconsequential in the outcome of the race.
So what should an appropriate level of “dislike” be? I think it should be in the range of disappointment—an emotion from which we learn, make minor modifications as possible, and move on. If I miss an opportunity to express God’s gifts because of the rudeness or ignorance of another, I think it is right (morally before God, not just “personal rights”) to be disappointed.
How should I respond to such a disappointment? Learn what I can about how to live more effectively in a broken world with my fellow fallen people. Exert whatever influence can still be beneficial in the original situation. Then move on expecting that God is still active and His purposes will not be thwarted by any human shenanigans.
But how do I recapture the opportunity that was lost? Answer: By responding in a way that makes God’s character known in light of the offense. Humility allows me to see that the opportunity to advance God’s kingdom was not taken away, but transformed. Pride is so committed to magnifying God in its strengths that it missed the opportunity to magnify God in its weakness.
So as I think through Lewis’ question and try to determine, “How bothered is so bothered that it is personal pride rather than godly mission?” The best answer I can create is that offense becomes pride when it distracts me from the next opportunity to serve God, especially with the one who offended me. It is pride that blinds me and humility that gives me eyes to see.
Posted 1 month, 1 week ago at 1:24 pm. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine that they are guilty themselves… There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others. The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-Conceit (p. 121).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
It is scary to think that we could be blind to our own blindness. As awful as it must be to be blind, there is protection in knowing that you are blind. The small child who knows he’s immature doesn’t try to make life changing decisions. The teenager who is too immature to admit his immaturity makes life changing decisions just to prove he can. That’s scary!
What’s more, the teenager can see the immaturity in his peers and totally despises it: “They’re so lame! They’re trying too hard for attention.” So he is not totally blind. He can see his fault in others. Not only can he see it, but when he sees it, he responds to it appropriately—with dislike.
Lewis is saying that we are like the teenager. We are blinded by our primary fault to our primary fault. But we are blind people who can see. This is worse than selective vision (the perceptual equivalent of “selective hearing”). If it were simply volitional, it would be far easier to change.
Our limited accurate sight gives us confidence that only multiplies our core problem – pride. Our limited ability feeds our greatest disability. Our driving question (“How can I help everyone else with their blindness?”) drives us away from the answer we most need to embrace.
This is a difficult reflection to write. I have a strong sense that whatever I write will only distract from what I most need to glean from this quote. I must admit I see the relevance of this quote more in the lives of others, or at best in my own past, more than I see it in my present. But any eloquence in that direction will only clog my own ears to the voice of God.
I truly believe that God wants to and needs to free me from me more than He needs to free me from anything else. But I have wrestled with this quote for thirty minutes and each time I try to focus on my own need for it my thoughts get “distracted.”
I think part of my blindness comes from that fact that I know “why” I do the things I do, even the dumb things. I can look at someone else’s actions and wonder, “Why did they do that?” I can create many possible explanations and critique each one. They get “dumber” with every option I destroy. Yet my own foolishness makes intuitive sense to me even when I’ve proven it won’t work.
I need to have the humility (the cure!) to recognize that until I can question me as well as I can question someone else I am blind. Even better, I need to be willing to admit that until I invite others who see me in a way I can’t tell me what they see, I’m a fool. Actually, I am worse than a fool. I am a fool who thinks I am wise.
I am realizing that in order to not be a fool, I have to fear being blind more than being wrong. Wise people can be wrong; they often are and their response to being wrong feeds their wisdom. However, those who are pride-blind are never wise. Even when they are right, what they do with their rightness corrupts their ability move toward godliness.
Posted 1 month, 2 weeks ago at 12:09 pm. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“I admit that this means loving people who have nothing lovable about them. But then, has oneself anything lovable about it? You love it simply because it is yourself. God intends us to love all selves in the same way and for the same reason: but He has given us the sum ready worked out in our own case to show us how it works. We have then to go on and apply the rule to all the other selves (p. 120).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
There is beautiful discomfort in this quote. It is simultaneously offensive and relieving. I want to rebuttal, “What do you mean that there is nothing lovable in me? What do you mean God made it that way so I would be able to love the unlovable in others?”
But at the same time I want give a relieved sigh and say, “You mean I don’t have to ‘keep it together’? There really isn’t this perpetual pressure to be ‘good enough’ for God?”
I want the beauty of the gospel without the discomfort. I want the relief without the offense. But we simply cannot have it both ways. We want to figure out a way to overcome our insecurity without having to extend the same unmerited grace to others.
The most common approach is to do away with the biblical category of our sinful nature. Somehow we want to say that “everyone is really good” but also “nobody’s perfect” (awkward contradiction not beautiful discomfort). We try to build our self-esteem by saying that our nature is good, but then get defensive when our sinfulness breaks through our idealistic veneer and reveals our real nature.
Lewis acknowledges our sinfulness, but does not succumb to a sense of self-condemnation. His acknowledgement that there is nothing good in us to love does not cause him to sound pessimistic, negative, or hopeless. He still speaks of love and God’s design to teach us how to love with a sense of optimistic hopefulness.
In this regard, I believe we can learn as much from Lewis’ style and tone as his content. He makes a very unpopular point is the most palatable way. Lewis forces me to see my total depravity and lack of deserving love in a way that keeps the focus on God’s love and design.
I walk away thinking, “God allows me to respond to me the way I do – seeking my preservation and best interest in spite of my failure because of a love for self that is stronger than my dislike for self – so that I can learn how to love others like He loves all of us.”
I am not called to relinquish that care for self. But I am called to see that it is a faint picture of His love for me. It is a clue left in my soul meant to cause me to question, “Why would I respond to myself this way when it’s so hard to respond to anyone else this way?”
Either we are more selfish than we realize – giving ourselves advantage we won’t give anyone else. In which case, any sense of affection for self is continued self-delusion. Or, we are following a design left in us by our Creator, after the Fall, to give us a first-person experience of what His love for us is like. In this case, we follow this self-affection away from ourselves back to the source from which it came.
Let us follow Lewis’ example and realize that God’s truth always unravels very personal parts of our life struggles. When we walk to God’s truth through these questions and struggles, then even when the answers are offensive they will bring awkward comfort that leaves us trusting God more.
Posted 1 month, 3 weeks ago at 12:24 pm. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“I have often thought to myself how it would have been if, when I served in the first World War, I and some young German had killed each other simultaneously and found ourselves together a moment after death. I cannot imagine that either of us would have felt any resentment or even any embarrassment. I think we might have laughed over it (p. 119).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
It must be noted that this quote is based upon Lewis’ personal speculations and his own retrospective assessment of what his response would be in a purely hypothetical circumstance. So whatever we do with this quote, we should not treat it as doctrine.
But the quote does challenge us to consider the question, “How much difference will Heaven make for the greatest atrocities and offenses we face now?” This is a question that runs a great risk of being misused.
Many would use a question like this to minimize the pain or significance of current suffering. There is no indication (nor would I suggest as a good idea) that Lewis used this type of question to belittle the dangers he faced in WWI. Neither would it have been of any benefit to manipulate himself into thinking, “the young German doesn’t really mean to take my life with the bullets he’s firing over my head.”
“Perspective” should never be used to craft an alternative reality. Perspective does not make danger less dangerous, evil less evil, or pain less painful.
So what good does perspective bring to suffering?
In a word – hope.
This perspective gained from the kind of reflection Lewis is engaging in reminds us that evil never gets the final or definitive word. God’s redemption is so complete that the darkest evil becomes like the awkward moment before the punch line in a really good joke.
In that moment of awkwardness, you legitimately do not know how to respond. It feels like the story is painfully incomplete or about to become offensive. Then with the punch line the size of the awkwardness only serves to accentuate the humor.
Again, it should be said, any use of “perspective” that seeks to minimize the painfully awkward moments in which we live on this side of God’s redemption, is a poor (possibly abusive or traumatic) use of perspective.
The point of perspective is to remind us that while evil may be “winning,” it cannot “win.” With this thought secured, then core aspects of personhood – hope, courage, meaning – are able to withstand the barrage of suffering.
The main lie of suffering – this is all we will ever know – is broken. It is as if an evil enchantment of mental and emotional slavery (we are dealing with C.S. Lewis, the author of Narnia) has been lifted from our soul. We remain a person who have been given personhood by the King’s authority which cannot be usurped by any invading tyrants (or German soldiers) or intrusions into our lives.
We are free children of the King, who must be reminded of who we are. When we remember, and even more when we enter His kingdom, the threats of this world will be like silly jokes. But again, that should give us hope, not cause us to minimize the threats of this world.
Posted 1 month, 4 weeks ago at 12:16 pm. Add a comment
A Counselor Reflects on Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
“For a long time I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a man did and not hate the man? But years later it occurred to me that there was one man to whom I had been doing this all my life—namely myself. However much I might dislike my own cowardice or conceit or greed, I went on loving myself. There had never been the slightest difficulty about it. In fact the very reason why I hated these things was that I loved the man. Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things (p. 117).” Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
Is the primary problem of the human condition that I don’t love myself enough (low self-esteem) or that I love myself too much (pride)? That is a question that can stir a great deal of debate.
I would contend that the fervor of the debate itself reveals that the scales tip toward pride. If low self-esteem were really the core human ailment, then we would timidly defer to one another and our disagreements would be mousy.
When reading the larger works of C.S. Lewis you will find that he sides on the pride side of this debate. However, here he is discussing self-love in a way that is distinct from pride. He does not seem to denigrate the self-love he describes here as pride (nor do I think he should).
Lewis describes this healthy self-love as hating the sin in my life because it destroys something that was intended to be good – namely self.
This points helps to answer one of the strongest points made by critics of the self-esteem movement (and I count myself in that number) – self-esteem assumes that we are basically good people who only do bad things because of negative outside influences. Scripture clearly teaches the opposite. We are people marred by sin who naturally love darkness instead of light (John 3:16-21).
Yet Lewis’ depiction of healthy self-love allows for a fundamental moral brokenness in the human race. His take on self-love still allowed him to admit, “I was the sort of man who did those things.” No silly, illogical excuses like, “You know I didn’t mean it,” or “I only behaved that way because…,” or “That wasn’t really me who did/said that.”
I believe it is instructive to see how Lewis got to this view of self-love. He got there by thinking of others. He wanted to know how you could hate the sin and love the sinner. Taking the Second Great Commandment seriously led him to consider the one example where he already obeyed it. Coincidentally, it was the example Jesus said to use – love others “as” (implying something that is already naturally occurs) you love yourself (Matt. 22:39).
It was from this example that he got an answer to his question: how do you hate the sin and love the sinner? Answer: You are grieved for how sin destroys the life of the sinner. Even when the sinner gets an advantage or pleasure from his/her sin, you are grieved that sin’s addictive roots are being reinforced.
How is this love? It is love, because all grief is rooted in love. You will only grieve after you have loved. You are saddened because of an obstruction in a desired joy. In this case, another person’s good.
So let us realize that we love ourselves naturally even when we are made miserable by our actions. Our misery actually reveals our love for self – we genuinely desire our good. After realizing this let us love others with that same desire for their good. That is the only thing that will prevent a healthy self-love from becoming pride, self-centeredness, or self-preoccupation (insecurity).
Posted 2 months, 1 week ago at 12:10 pm. Add a comment
