As a Christian from nearly conception, I probably should have found my way into C.S Lewis' Screwtape Letters prior to a couple weeks ago. My only excuse is that I have been around so many different people who have read it, I felt as though I already had. The concept of two demons corresponding in hopes of influencing humans towards “our father below” seemed like an entertaining premise but perhaps more honestly my despise for popular Christian books left me deliberately unmotivated...but I got over it finally and read it.
As you may have guessed (for those who have read it) I thoroughly enjoyed the book. Lewis is both creative and insightful. He explains the struggles of human nature (see Romans 7:15), utilizing the amusingly honest dealings between a demon and a j.v demon who are plotting to capture souls. While most of the letters had some pretty savvy discussion of truth (written of course in the negative), the letters pertaining to new believers are what I found most interesting. Perhaps I have been reading a bit too much Kierkegaard and his cynicism is rubbing off on me but I nearly agreed with the older (wiser?) demon as he detailed to the J.V demon how best to deal with this new believer. It sounded as if he was speaking of a school boy on the verge of entering into a relationship with his idolized crush. What is this overflow of emotion and depth of excitement that this new believer feels? This ridiculously glowing outlook on their relation to God and perhaps an even more annoying giddiness about their future?
Last week, I was listening to a Christian radio station program describe this feeling or the high of falling in love. The speaker made the case for this high as a form of self-love. Since I would like to find any reason to persecute those in a romantic form of this lovers high, I didn't change the station. Of course, I wanted some ammunition for these floating dandelions (obviously forgetting that I am often one of these poor saps). The speaker went on to describe the rush that occurs when new love interests finally hold hands as they walk. He described the flush of emotion as being primarily about the affirmation and excitement that someone loves them. Mostly, it validates the individual. It reassures the person that they are worthy of the other and affirms what the individual wanted to believe all along but was unable to impart on themselves - that he or she matters. As the speaker continued he began describing what true love was and how it differed entirely from this self-love high which we attribute to love. The speaker went as far as saying that we should disregard this first feeling as love at all. As he continued, I found myself starting to disagree more and more with him. Wasn't this initial overflow of emotion and excitement part of God's design?
I would have to agree that a case can be made quite easily that we live in a culture that craves, if not worships, this falling in love high. With our romantic relationships, we tend to remain under the delusion that if we don't always feel that thrill of validation that we had the first time we kissed or held hands than it is not true love. We often expect this from our relationship to God as well. If we are not maintaining our initial amazement with what our God has done for us as when we first came to faith than our faith must be lacking. Or as Lewis writes, we come to the dangerously false proposition that "I am losing interest in this, therefore, this must be false".
I agree wholly that it can be an addictive rut we get stuck in by pursuing the next relationship or object that will return our elation to the proper height, but those willing to seek those addictions to their end and ultimately circular pattern, arrive at the conclusion that this high is limited. It is not sustainable. The lie is that it is sustainable; but it is also a lie that it serves no significant purpose. Lewis in one of his other works notes, "It's the first falling in love that moves lovers to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this that the engine of marriage is run: falling in love was the explosion that started it".
Clearly, Lewis is talking of a romantic relationship here, but how does it relate to our relationship with God? Can't this high, albeit spiritual, spur us to similar action, commitment and duty? The danger comes in believing this high will last forever so we don't bother with action, commitment and duty. Take it from the varsity demon, "Let him assume that the first ardours of his conversion might have been expected to last, and ought to have lasted, forever, and that his present dryness is an equally permanent condition". We may also believe this high is strictly of the sinful self and "begin to doubt whether the first days of his Christian conversion were not, perhaps, a little excessive". Both cases seem to arrive at a form of spiritual death. The former produces a being starved for the next high that will satisfy "an ever increasing craving for an ever diminishing pleasure". The latter results in psychosis of automata. We deny ourselves the passion of this first love and root ourselves only in a commitment. Duty becomes our purpose solely and the relationship ceases to be relational in any form.
Perhaps, like most things in life, it requires a balance of the two. But as we all know, the balanced life is a difficult one. This week I listened to an old message by Ravi Zacharias, a brilliant teacher, on his radio show Let My People Think. He discussed the problem of pleasure. Obviously, the problem of pain has been well documented among doubters of the faith. Mr. Lewis devotes countless essays and lectures to the issue of pain and how it can challenge belief in a just God. However, Ravi points out that the "meaninglessness is most found not in those experiencing the depths of pain, but instead those that have experienced the heights of pleasure." Ravi uses countless examples of people who found nothing at the height of their success and pleasure. With King Solomon as his leading example, Ravi loosely quotes G.K. Chesteron in saying, "meaninglessness comes from being weary of pleasure, not pain”. Ravi goes on to point out that true pleasure (meaning authentic pleasure designed by God) usually involves pain first and then pleasure or joy later. It is false pleasure (or distorted, tainted pleasure) that takes the pattern of pleasure first and pain later.
OK, where am I going with this? Or as we use to beg of my Dad when he preached, "Land the plane, Dad." This falling in love high, in its truest and purest form, is a hope and excitement of pleasure to come that is so great that it is willing to endure any sort of pain, service, duty or commitment. It is this first high that sparks the engine of death to ourselves as a way of bringing new life. As often as this cycle can be carried out, I believe it must, both in our relationships with loved ones and our relationship with God. Continuously seeking to fathom the Lord's love for us should result in the thrill of validation. This validation, in turn, gives rise to an unquenchable hope, as a giddy bride of Christ, which no less will spark our engine of selflessness as the reality of true pleasure is revealed. The more times we journey through this pattern of death to ourselves and resurrection to new life and ultimate purpose in Christ, the more we are able to experience the reality of the eternity that is awaiting us. I continue to find myself amazed at how the reality of our world is drenched with death and resurrection. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised since, as Lewis writes in Miracles, "Death and resurrection are what the story is about; and had we but eyes to see it, this has been hinted on every page, met us in some disguise, at every turn and even been muttered in conversations between such minor characters as the vegetables".
P.S "Engine of Death" - David, new band name?
Tim
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