Couple a facts. Clive Staples Lewis or “Jack” died November 23, 1963. So did “Jack” the President and so did Aldous Huxley (Brave New World).
Lewis used to run a weekly? debate in Cambridge with a bunch of Chrisians and Atheists, it was called, “The Socratic Club”. I wish I<-bold, could have seen THAT!
Good posts, I hope we have plenty more.
Lewis’ writings have helped me many times, including recently.
From “A Grief Observed”,
“Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be-or so it feels-welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence becomes. There are no windows in the house. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in our time of trouble?”
“Cancer, and cancer, and cancer. My Mother, my Father, my Wife. I wonder who is next in the queue.”
“I have no photograph of her that’s any good. I cannot even see her face distinctly in my imagination. Yet the odd face of some stranger seen in a crowd this morning may come before me in vivid perfection the moment I close my eyes tonight. No doubt, the explanation is simple enough. We have seen the faces of those we know best so variously, from so many angles, in so many lights, with so many expressions-waking, sleeping, laughing, crying, eating, talking, thinking-that all the impressions crowd into our memories together and cancel out into a mere blur… But her voice is remembered-that can turn me into a whimpering child.”
“Have I forgotten when she cried out, “And there was so much to live for”? Happiness had not come to her early in life. A thousand years of it would not have made her blasé. Her palate for all the joys of sense and intellect and spirit was fresh and unspoiled. Nothing would have been wasted on her. She liked more things and liked them more than anyone I have ever known. A noble hunger, long unsatisfied, met at last its proper food, and almost instantly the food was snatched away. Fate (or whatever it is) delights to produce a great capacity and then frustrate it. Beethoven went deaf. By our standards a mean joke; the monkey trick of a spiteful imbecile.”
I hear Hopkins too, I wonder if it was because of the movie about Lewis, Shadowlands?
Good posts, I hope there’s more to come.