It is almost impossible to read Lewis without cribbing his material. Among the phrases that caught my attention on this reading of Mere Christianity: "Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man." In his section on sexual morality, Lewis compares the animal self with the much more serious diabolical self and comments: "That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer hell than a prostitute." And then he adds, with a twinkle in his eye: "But, of course, it is better to be neither!" Lewis's ability to express a matter in a fresh way also serves to promote deeper thought. He says that "bad people" lead sheltered lives since they, always giving in to evil, have never entered into the struggle of resistance against it. "No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good." Finally, Lewis offers the sobering and realistic saying: "Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive."
Lewis gives the distinct impression that the Christian faith has things to say that an atheist doesn't already know. His work exudes a gentle confidence in the content of Christian faith and he deploys central Christian teachings and ideas in a manner that demonstrate their ability to make sense of the world. That's the central strength of the book. He is not in full retreat trying to accommodate Christian faith to current ideas. Chapter four, The Perfect Penitent, is a wonderful example of Lewis's defense and explanation of Atonement. Masterfully, he holds the heavy theological term, Atonement, to the end of the chapter so that the penny drops only after he has cleared away the debris of misunderstanding around the word. Lewis, like Kathleen Norris (Amazing Grace), rehabilitates theological language by putting terms to work, illuminating life.
Lewis is not an obscurantist, however. He shows a critical appreciation of new learning. He finds, for example, that Freudian psychoanalysis is helpful and "not in the least contradictory to Christianity," indeed there are areas of overlap. Lewis says we might follow Freud when he talks about curing neurotics. But, Freud is ignorant, Lewis argues, when he is talking off his subject in the areas of language and philosophy. Lewis doesn't propose that we reinterpret the faith through the lens of Freudian psychology for the sake of relevance; he looks for overlaps and similarities but also identifies the areas where the faith, if it is going to keep to the facts, has its own integrity.
In his chapter on time he realizes his own thoughts, helpful and interesting though they may be, are not essential. He tells the reader, "You can be a perfectly good Christian without accepting it (his explanation), or indeed without thinking about the matter at all." He counsels patience and prayer when the whole of the faith doesn't come clear at once. Wisely, he also makes the point that while there are different metaphors for expression of our faith commitment (born-again, for example), "do not start quarrelling with others because they use a different formula from yours." Even though he is engaged in patient explanation, Lewis notes that Christianity at points is hard to understand, and can't all be made utterly simple. "We are dealing with facts. Of course, anyone can be simple if he has no facts to bother with." Lewis also, against the advice of some of his advisors who told him to keep to practical religion, plumbs the depths of theology-the science of God. He explains, "I do not think the ordinary reader is such a fool… You are not children; why should you be treated as children."
