Hey It's Easter!

Tomorrow finds the Greene family hunting for eggs at the community wide Easter Egg hunt that my friend Sara Lynn is organizing. The church sponsors it, so I will be front and centre with Jelly Beans in hand! Maybe I will be clever and take pictures. Josh is 8 now, with beautiful long blonde hair. Chloe is the next birthday...16! I found her a very cool 4 wheel drive Pathfinder. It does not drive fast, and it does not drive far! Perfect...

The more things change...

I've come to the realization that I am not comfortable with getting older. It's okay to just throw that out there. Tonight I watched a movie that reminded me of the years 7thgrade-19years old, and I realized that some part of me is frozen there. Deep inside there is this kernel of me that stopped at age 19/20 and doesn't care to move beyond the limited scope of vision that this age provides. More later I guess

24 Hour Party People

I am finally getting to watch this movie, and am loving the Valkyries music at the beginning. Last night I finished my senior thesis; it is the hardest paper I've ever written...to have that much breadth and freedom is almost paralyzing. I felt like Richard Blayze on the finale of Top Chef: 1,2,3 and CHOKE.

But, I finally got a tight thesis statement: Reactions to Aristotle's Theory of Fear and Pity in Bleak House and Great Expectations. I broke the statement down into three reactions: Resolve, Retreat and Ruin. Just shy of 11,000 words, it is a literary force to be reckoned with. GRE's here I come; with my hat in my hand!

Below is a CS Lewis essay on Myth Sightings in Perelandra:

Corrie Greene
C.S. Lewis
Dr. King
11 April 2011



Odysseus, Virgil, Charlemagne, Nietzsche, and Tennyson: How Myth Influenced Perelandra


C.S. Lewis’ Perelandra is a reimagining of one of the primary biblical myths, the Fall of Man. Or as David Downing describes in his essay, “Paradise Retained,” it is a story of the, “reality of myth and how ordinary mortals may be called upon to engage in mythic labours” (Downing, in Edwards, 35.) To underscore the theme of Perelandra, Lewis makes several references to both classical mythology and biblical myth. Among the classical are: Circe, Alcina, Hesperides, The Legends of Charlemagne, and the tale of the Lotus Eaters in Odysseus. These mythic references function to inform Ransom’s own journey and struggle to be a hero, in spite of his Piebald existence- having one leg in the heroic and the other in mortality.

In Chapter 4 Ransom comes face to face with the Green Lady for the first time. He is surprised to see a woman, and then surprised at himself for his reaction to her. She is, “strangely accompanied,” thronged by, “beasts and birds” (Lewis, 48.) He begins to doubt himself and confronts his fear of hallucination: “Was this the beginning of the hallucinations he had feared? Or another myth coming out into the world of fact-perhaps a more terrible myth…” (Lewis, 48.) It is at this point that Lewis, through the mind of Ransom, references Circe and Alcina.

Judith Yarnall in her book, Transformations of Circe, explains that it is impossible to know where Circe the enchantress, “first took on deed and shape,” however, she does appear in Homer’s Odyssey. Circe lives on an island of Homer’s creation called Aiaia, where she entertained sailors and eventually turned them into pigs. Yarnall also finds her in Virgil’s Aeneid as the, “ruler of a promontory where the air vibrates with the howls of chained and enraged beasts.” She also turns the wheel that governs incarnations, and is the fair witch in Spenser’s Renaissance, “bower of bliss waiting for virile young lovers…” She is also found in 17th century ballet and in James Joyce’s Ulysses (Yarnall, 1.)

The thesis of Yarnall’s book gives insight into why Circe springs to Ransom’s mind as he encounters the Green Lady covered by animals on an otherworldly island: “No matter what century or work Circe appears in, she is associated with our bodily vulnerability…” (Yarnall, 2.) Using this observation as an inspiration, the reader of Perlandra can see the pertinence of the Circe reference. Not only are the circumstances parallel to the setting of the Odyssey, but also Ransom himself is in a psychologically and physically vulnerable place. He is naked, on poor footing because of the fluid nature of the island, and he has just experienced the Green Lady’s flash of disappointment upon seeing him. He is unsure of the purpose of his visit to this world or why the eldila had sent him. His life is completely infused with vulnerabilities.

Ransom also references Alcina at his first meeting with the Green Lady. In Bulfinch’s Mythology Thomas Bulfinch provides the story of a brave knight returning home to aid the Emperor of France. He and other soldiers reach Alcina’s castle by the sea. Alcina is referred to as a, “powerful enchantress.” “Alcina had fixed her eyes on me and planned to get me into her power…no sooner…were we…moved off than I saw my folly but it was too late to repent…Soon Alcina, sated with her conquest grew indifferent, then weary of me, and at last to get rid of me, she changed me into this form, as she had done to many lovers before me, making some of them olives, some of them palms…” (Bulfinch, 64.) As the Green Lady appears to Ransom he is surrounded by some of the most interesting and intoxicating foliage and trees he has ever experienced, it stands to reason that fear could allow him to reference Alcina’s powers to turn warriors into her own personal arboretum.

Lewis also uses allusions to Hesperides, Titian’s painted satyrs, Artemis, Maenads, and satyrs dancing in Italian woods. Since the satyr is mentioned twice in Perelandra, it is worth noting that both Maenads and satyrs have a prominent place in the cult of Dionysis, who is the twice-born figure of Greek Mythology and the symbol of Nietzsche’s belief, explains Paul Valadier in his essay, “Dionysus versus the Crucified,” that Dionysus was the ideal image of, “the affirmation of life,” and that Christ or the “Crucified,” was the image of the negation or suppression of life (Valadier in Allison, 247.) One can hear the echoes of Nietzsche’s argument of the suppressive nature of Christianity in the relentless campaign the Un-Man levels at the Green Lady:
“Because this forbidding is such a strange one…” (89.)
“…Maleldil has sent you other men whom it had never entered your mind to think of…” (90.)
“They do not need to wait for him to tell them what is good, but know it for themselves as he does. They are, as it were, little Maleldils” (91.)
“He does not want you to go on to the new fruits you have not tasted before” (98.)
“Are you certain that He really wishes to be always obeyed?” (99)
“A real disobeying, a real branching out, this is what He secretly longs for…” (100.)
“Your deepest will, at present, is to obey Him-to be always as you are now, only His beast or His very young child” (102.)

Although Perelandra is riddled with mythic references and allusions one other from Greek Mythology stands out. As Ransom is chasing the Un Man, after their battle, he rides on the back of the large fish into the area of water inhabited by mermaids and mermen. Lewis writes:
“He (Ransom) noticed presently that some of the water people in his immediate neighbourhood seemed to be feeding. They were picking dark masses of something off the water with their webbed frog-like hands and devouring it…The sight of their eating had reminded him that he was hungry…(he eats the seaweed)…As soon as he had eaten a few mouthfuls of the seaweed he felt his mind oddly changed…He felt his memory of the Green Lady and all her promised descendants and all the issues which had occupied him ever since he came to Perelandra rapidly fading from his mind” (138,139.)

This sequence in Ransom’s journey on Perelandra is a patchwork of mythic references. The riding on large fish again references the story of Alcina: “I (the soldier) who was rash did not hesitate to follow her, but swam my horse over and mounted the back of the fish” (Bulfinch, 723.) The mermaids appear in myriad ancient references, including The Legends of Charlemagne, and the sirens of the Odyssey. Finally, the bliss and forgetfulness inducing seaweed is reminiscent of the Country of the Lotus-Eaters encountered by Odysseus’ men as they sail from Troy. Tennyson describes the feeling of eating the lotus in his poem, “The Lotus-eaters,”

To lend our hearts and spirits wholly
To the influence of mild melancholy
To muse and brood and live again in memory
…
Surely surely slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore
Than labour in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar
Oh rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.

In God in the Dock Lewis writes, “In the enjoyment of a great myth we come nearest to experiencing as a concrete what can otherwise be understood only as an abstraction…To be truly Christian we must both assent to the historical fact and also receive the myth (fact though it has become) with the same imaginative embrace which we accord other myths. The one is hardly more necessary than the other” (Lewis, Dock, 66,67.) The narrator in Perelandra reveals Ransom’s thoughts to the reader in Chapter 11: “Ransom had been perceiving that the triple distinction of truth from myth and of both from fact was purely terrestrial” (122.) Ransom’s thoughts mirror Lewis’ explanation of the importance of myth to the Christian.
Through his use of biblical and classical mythology, Lewis creates an environment where Ransom is called upon to experience the myth-like qualities of the world of Perelandra, interpret them, and act upon them, just as we Christians must do here on earth.

On Shelley

I like Shelley.

Corrie Greene
Romantic Literature Essay
Dr. King
1 April 2011

Leave Thee Naked to Laughter: Falling In and Out of Love, Shelley Style

William Flesch in his book, The Facts on File: Companion to British Literature, 19th Century reveals that Shelley wrote “Lines: When the Lamp is Shattered,” “under the spell of Jane Williams, the last of his passions” (Flesch, 210.) With the death of his love towards his wife Mary and his new passions toward Jane foremost on his mind, the reader can see the transient nature of love displayed in the stanzas of, “Lamp.”

In his opening lines, “When the lamp is shattered; the light in the dust lies dead…” Shelley clues his reading audience into his idea that after love dies there are remnants of the former feelings, but they are altered and often worthless. Fredrick Garber in his book Romantic Irony, Volume 8, calls these lines, “A two sided truth,” explaining that the light in the dust still exists, it is simply dead. In it’s death, his love is redefined. The same can be said for his comparison of love to the shedding of a rainbow’s glory.

The lines, “ When the lute is broken/ Sweet tones are remembered not; When the lips have spoken, loved accents are remembered not,” examine the idea that once the, proverbial, music of love ceases to be played or sung, both the song and the singer slip from memory and importance.

In Stanza two Shelley expands on the cessation of the song and the singer, taking them to their natural conclusion: death. The once cheerful love song is replaced with the rhetoric of a funeral; “sad dirges,” “mournful surges that ring the dead seaman’s knell.”

Stanza’s three and four are a rich metaphor of birds and their nests. It is hard not to think that Shelley was referring to himself when he spoke of the bird that, “first leaves the well-built nest,” and leaves his wife Mary to live in the memory of their previous love. But the erstwhile lover chooses unwisely after he leaves his safe nest and, in fact, chooses, “the frailest of homes,” to live and have a family.

Shelley leaves his audience with a warning that there is no way to control love. If one is governed by passions, passions will, “rock thee.” If, on the other hand, one allows themselves to be ruled by logic and a level head, the storm of love will cause reason to, “mock thee.” The line, “Like the sun from a wintery sky,” implies that love is an illusion akin to the bright sunshine seen through the window on a winter day, but yielding no satisfaction of warmth.

Like “Lines: When the Lamp is Shattered,” “To_____Music When Soft Voices Die,” also deals with the death of love, although, according to James Bieri, a Shelley biographer, this was the death of his love to an Italian girl named Emilia, not to Mary. Bieri reveals that Shelley wrote to a friend after Emilia’s marriage stating, “married…is the same as being dead” (Bieri, 255.) “Music,” however does allow for the lingering poignancy: “Music when soft voices die/ Vibrates in the memory-“

“Music,” utilizes references to the sensorial. “Music,” is heard. “Vibrations,” are felt. “Sweet violets,” and roses are inhaled and visually beautiful when they are in their prime. Finally (and this one is a bit of a reach) both roses and violets are edible. Whether or not Shelley stopped to eat the violets, he does seem to suggest that love, in its prime, possesses the entire being of those in love. When it dies, it lingers on in it’s dead forms: vibrations, brief scents that jog memory, petals- fallen and useless but still beautiful. Love is reduced to, “thoughts,” and the dreams we keep as we, “slumber on.”

Shelley, in his poems, “Lines: When the Lamp is Shattered,” and To_______Music, When Soft Voices Die,” describes the feelings of both the scorned and the scorner. Neither can control love. Love’s only constancy is its inability to be tamed. It cannot be kept forever in memory, warming the jilted heart, and it cannot be molded into wise or rational patterns, no matter how wonderful we feel our new, “nest,” will be.



This paragraph does not fit, and I am running out of time to finesse it into the body of the essay:

Shelley uses End Rhyme in an ABAB/ CDCD pattern, as well as parallelism, repeating the words, “When the ____verb_____,” creating a chanting effect for the reader. The writer admits she is feebly skilled at picking out feet and meter, but “Lines,” sounds like Iambic Trimeter to her. “When,” “The lamp,” “Is Shattered…”
Then, “The light,” “In the dust,” “Lies dead…” He also employs Enjambment in all but the first stanza; the first stanza is in Quatrains, maybe even an Envelope Quatrain.

CS Lewis' Of Other Worlds

Brief Essay on one of Lewis' essays in Of Other Worlds

Corrie Greene
C.S.Lewis
Dr. King
8 March 2011

Prunes Are Far Too Nasty to Be Funny: Three Important Ideas About Fairy Tales

In his essay, “On Three Ways of Writing for Children,” C.S. Lewis offers two good approaches to writing and one equally as informative, bad approach. He begins with the bad approach, indicating to his reader that if they do nothing else other than acknowledge that this upcoming concept is abhorrent, they will be farther ahead in the game than many of their, “adult,” peers. The bad way is to subscribe to, “that special department of, ‘giving the public what it wants,’ “ or including ideas in a story on the assumption that, “what the modern child wants.” Lewis counters that he focused on the high tea scene with Tumnus the Faun in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, not because, “The little blighters like plenty of good eating,” but because: “I put in what I would have liked to read when I was a child and what I still like reading now that I am in my fifties.”

The two good approaches to writing for children begin with Lewis distinguishing the difference between, “giving the children what they want,” and seeking to tell a story to a particular child. It stands to reason that the story teller will be crafting this one tale to fit the personality of his listener, however Lewis elaborates on the changes the story undergoes as it becomes print. He describes the change as:

In any personal relation the two participants modify each other. You
would become slightly different because you were talking to a child and
the child would become slightly different because it was being talked
to by an adult. A community, a composite personality, is created and out
of that the story grows.

This “composite personality,” creates the final printed story.

Lewis goes into the most detail with his third method, as this is the one, “which is the only one I could ever use myself.” This technique is, “writing a children's story because a children's story is the best art-form for something you have to say.” He finds this to be important because a good children’s story can and should be enjoyed by anyone of any age. He compares a poorly written, narrow children’s story to a waltz: “A waltz which you can only like when you are waltzing is a bad waltz.”

He extends the waltz analogy to the specific genre of fairy tale. If critics belittle the reading or writing of fairy tales as not being, “grown-up,” Lewis hastily points out that being concerned, “about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of child¬hood and adolescence.” He further explains that to fear being accused of “arrested development,” for liking what would be, in modern eyes, termed childish is actually a fear based on flawed logic: “arrested development consists not in refusing to lose old things but in failing to add new things? I now like hock, which I am sure I should not have liked as a child. But I still like lemon-squash.” By this mode of thought, the reader who adds enjoyment of fairy tales to his repertoire of enjoyment has truly grown.

Finally Lewis, with a nod to Tolkien, references the fact that fairy tales were not traditionally made for children. They simply found their way into the nursery much like out of fashion Victorian furniture. Lewis also cautions that he is not setting out to give a lesson on, “How to Write a Story.” In fact he claims to, “have never exactly 'made' a story.” He describes his process as seeing pictures, and if we,” keep quiet and watch they will begin joining up.”

We can see these pictures, snap shots, of modern fairy tales joining up in Lewis’ works such as the Screwtape Letters, where we watch the interplay between the demons lead us to an understanding of how Satan works against the Christian. If we are quiet we can hear the underlying message in the resurrection of both Spring and Aslan in TLtWatW, and if we give up our adherence to being grown up and practical we can accept the greatest fairy tale of all… as Lewis unfolds it in Mere Christianity.

According to Lewis, the child and the author are free to watch the tale unfold as equals. They are free to each loathe prunes.

Jane Austen, Emma and the development of the novel

This was for Romantic Lit...i think it will be the jumping off point for my end of semester paper for this class


Corrie Greene
Romantic Literature
Journal III
Dr. King



Jane Austen opens Emma with the description, “Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition…” (Austen, 1.) With her first words, Austen declares herself to be well within the parameters of the definition of a novel. She immediately tells her readers that they will be privy to scenery (“comfortable home,”) dialogue (“clever,”) and details (“handsome,” and “rich.”)With the introduction of “the evils,” of Miss Emma Woodhouse’s character: “the power of having rather too much her own way, and the disposition to think a little too well of herself…” (2,) the reader quickly sees that Emma will also contain introspection, self-analysis, and narrative analysis of the main characters. With these characteristics in mind, the reader can easily follow Austen as she develops Emma into Ian Watt’s definition of a novel: “A full and authentic report of human experience” (King, Moodle, 3/8/11.)

In Emma, Austen carries on the tradition of the novel as begun by Samuel Richardson in 1740. Emma concentrates on the every day life of the residents of Highbury, specifically the character Emma Woodhouse and her social problems. The reader immediately sees that Emma is meddlesome and opinionated, consumed with romantic love, although not, it seems, for herself, but instead for those around her. She finds pressing importance in the details of everyday life. The reader does not see her focusing any energy on conceptual or heavenly concepts. In fact, the closest she comes to religion is to contemplate the suitability of the vicarage as a dwelling place for her protégé, Harriet: “He (Mr. Elton) had a comfortable home for her (Harriet,) and Emma imagined a very significant income; for though the vicarage of Highbury was not large, he was known to have some independent property…” (Austen, 68.)

Austen eschews dialogue focusing on “modern society,” although she does perpetuate the division between the relative tranquility of the country versus the modern concerns of the city. John Knightly and Emma’s sister Isabelle live in the city. John is portrayed as over-worked, unable to relax or enjoy an evening out with friends: “Mr. John Knightley’s being a lawyer is very inconvenient…There will not be time for anything…Mr. John Knightley must be in town again on the 28th” (Austen, 166, 67.) John’s wife, and Emma’s sister, Isabella is frequently unwell and delicate: “My dear Isabella…be satisfied with doctoring and coddling yourself…” (Austen, 219.) Frank Churchill is also from the city, and proves to be duplicitous and callous in his dealings with the citizens of Highbury.

Conversely, the country is full of parties, games, exercise, romance and innocent intrigue, work is very rarely mentioned. Even the farmer Mr. Martin appears to be more of an administrator than a labourer: “Harriet was ready to speak of the share he had in their moonlight walks and merry evening games…” (Austen, 52.) He also employed shepherds and had time to ride, “three miles round one day, in order to bring her some walnuts” (Austen, 52.)While Emma is grossly mistaken in her attempts to divine love and marriage matches for her friends, she is not callous towards their feelings. In fact, the majority of the permanent country dwellers are transparent in their feelings and motives. Mr. Knightley, who moves back and forth from the city to the country, is guarded in matters of his own feelings of love, but open with his council to others and care for Emma.

Austen reveals more of the inner character of her Highbury dwellers through their letters to one another. Although the reader only sees one fully transcribed letter, near the end of the novel, we are made aware of the contents of several throughout the novels volumes. These letters also help to denote the passage of time. While letters and the post office are quite modern and, “really astonishing” (Austen, 70,) by using the seasons to denote the passage of time, Austen gives a nod to the regularity and dependability of the country.

Some timeless themes of the post 1740 novel are the, “acquisition of wealth, marriage and upward mobility” (King, Moodle, 3/8/11.) Emma contains myriad examples of these pivotal situations:
• Mr. Weston would not marry until he had his finances in order and had moved beyond the lowered station that his first wife’s death had bound him. He gave himself the personal goal of saving, “enough to secure the purchase of a little estate adjoining Highbury, which he had always longed for- enough to marry a woman as portionless even as Miss Taylor…never settling until he could purchase Randalls” (Austen, 26.)
• Mr. Elton would never marry someone with less fortune than himself. He was perpetually upwardly mobile. When the wealthy Emma rejected his proposal she observed, “if Miss Woodhouse the heiress of thirty thousand pounds, were not so easily obtained, as he fancied, he would soon try for Miss Somebody else with twenty or with ten” (Austen, 289.)
• Marriage is the topic of the hour: Mr. Martin’s proposal to Harriet; Harriet’s desire to marry Mr. Elton, Mr. Elton’s desire to marry Emma; Emma’s interest in Frank Churchill; Frank Churchill’s seeming interest in Emma; Mr. Knightley’s recommendation of marriage to Mr. Martin regarding Harriet; Mr. Knightley’s insight into Mr. Elton wanting to marry Emma; Mr. Knightley’s suspicion of Frank Churchill’s interest in Jane, Mr. Elton’s surprise marriage to Augusta, Frank’s surprise engagement to Jane, Emma’s surprise love for Mr. Knightley, Mr. Knightley’s not so surprising love for Emma, and Harriet’s ultimate marriage to Mr. Martin. And finally… “Mr. Elton was called on, within a month of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Martin, to join the hands of Mr. Knightley and Miss Woodhouse” (Austen, 315.)

With marriage, wealth, and social climbing as some of the main themes of Emma, the 21st Century reader cannot be too hard pressed to see the realism integral to a successful novel. However, Austen was skilled in communicating, “her individual vision of reality” (King, Moodle, 3/8/11.) She was able to maintain a unity and coherence within her plot using, as Ernest Baker describes it in The History of the English Novel: “the working formula…rough specification of the novel, ‘the interpretation of human life by means of fictitious narrative in prose’” (Baker, 12.) This leads to the satisfaction of the final three requirements of the novel: Analysis of human behavior, interest in setting, and language referential to everyday life (King, Moodle, 3/8/11.)

Emma Woodhouse spends her days and nights analyzing the behaviours of her friends and acquaintances. She draws inferences and makes assumptions which lead to not only debacles but also to personal revelations regarding her own flaws of character. Austen’s ability to portray the locale as well as the mannerisms and peculiarities of the wealthy in such clear language lends a rich and realistic background to the lessons of the importance of, “Very little white satin, very few lace veils… (And) the wishes, the hopes, the confidence, the predictions of the small band of true friends…” (Austen, 315.)

CS Lewis is super cool

I want to be an Oxford Don when I grow up!

Corrie Greene
CS Lewis Journal 2
Dr. King
27 February 2011

Why Do Presbyterians Sprinkle, Baptists Dunk, and Catholics Get to Drink So Much: Losing and Gaining My Religion


There aren’t many sections of Mere Christianity, that don’t either give me pause or bring to mind a question that I have wrestled with, or continue to wrestle with. I enjoy reading this because it makes me feel okay about how excruciatingly hard it is for me to accept the fact that I accept the fact that Christ is who He says He is, and that I want to follow Him.

As a child, Christianity was this incrediblely simple, “If/ Then,” equation…If we confess our sins, (Then) He is faithful and Just to Forgive us our sins, and (Then) cleanse us from all unrighteousness. I believed this wholeheartedly. It was really easy to believe, because everyone told me that this was so, and grown-ups never lie. Right?
As I got older, the nuances of Religion started to throw me… If I keep committing the same sin over and over again, then I’m not asking forgiveness; I’m asking to be excused. And, if I’m asking to be excused then I am saying I am above God’s laws, because God’s law says, “Thou shalt not…whatever…” And then, if I think I am outside God’s law, then am I really a child of God at all??…” and SHAZAAM, we get to Losing My Religion, and Salvation Based on Works, and, oh, there goes my head exploding.

Religion is very complicated.

I decided I was better off without it, and I would strive to be the type of person that Lewis describes on pages 53 and 54 as believing in a “Life-Force,” or “Creative Evolution.” “All of the emotional comfort of believing in God and none of the less pleasant consequences.” I suppose underneath all of my denials I must have believed in God, because I was also the person who thought that, “Life-Force,” was, “A mind bringing life into existence and leading it to perfection,” I was simply loathe to call it God.

God was confusing and several of the stories didn’t make sense to me. How could Adam and Eve be that stupid? I mean, really…in one afternoon Free Will goes that awry? It’s so easy to think of the Fall of Man as a parable, a life lesson. The Ark? I lost nights out of my life debating the plausibility of the Ark and the Flood Myth… Then there was this man, running away from God, and he VOLUNTEERED to get thrown into the ocean, and then he lived in the belly of a fish, until he was vomited up, and not made into parfum.

When I looked at the myriad fantastic stories in the Bible, it read like the Odyssey. Goliath might as well have been the Cyclops, and David, Odysseus swinging a slingshot in lieu of strapping himself to sheep’s belly. What was the difference?

My discovery? While I was confused about the scriptures, and man’s interpretation of God, I didn’t, deep down, buy the whole theory that I could be morally good on my own. Lewis describes evil as a, “parasite,” that actually lives off of good. Evil exists because of goodness, and Satan exists because of God. All of my own efforts to be good were, the proverbial, “filthy rags,” they never quite measured up and I was left feeling perpetually lacking. Lewis explains: “The most dangerous thing you can do is to take any one impulse of your own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs. There is not one of them which will not make us into devils if we set it up as an absolute guide”(11.)

And so all of my feeble Life-Force attempts at goodness, peacefulness, love, longsuffering, gentleness, and meekness turned me into a devil. I was, by turns, judgemental, holier-than-thou, defeated, depressed, rebellious, and resigned. I was never joyful. Life-Force was not enough to guide my life.

If, “Christianity is a fighting religion” (37,) then Christ is a Golden Gloves recipient. The first time I read Mere Christianity, I lingered, picking my jaw up off of the ground, at the Chapter, “The Rival Conceptions of God.” Did he just write: “If you are a Christian you do not have to believe that all the other religions are simply wrong all through…!?!” If this was truth, then most of my hang-ups had become, in a span of tiny seconds, pettily academic. It didn’t really matter for the moment if Gilgamesh seemed way too similar to Noah.

At the same time as the above revelation, God had introduced into my life a group of Christians who lived their lives with a Relationship with Christ. They rejected the trappings of Religion. They were smart, witty, accepting, and didn’t write me off as a pathetically stoned pagan. One, in particular, showed me a major fallacy in my thinking…I was watching other flawed human beings to see how God worked, and I was looking at stories and picking them apart for the pleasure of proving myself right. In addition, I was thinking that by my being right, I had somehow managed to prove God wrong. (It seems so silly to write now…it’s a wonder I did not get struck down by lightening.)

I gave up my pig headedness. “There is nothing progressive about being pig-headed and refusing to admit a mistake” (29,) is one of the best quotes in the world. I didn’t understand the Fall of Man, I didn’t understand Immaculate Conception, I didn’t understand homosexuality, I didn’t understand alcohol, I didn’t understand Religion (especially Baptists!), forgiveness, back-sliding, speaking in tongues, or why some people say dancing is bad while King David danced in the Bible! There was more I didn’t understand, than what I did.

But, “People ate their dinner and felt better long before the theory of vitamins was ever heard of” (81,) and people had been forgiven by Christ long before there were Baptists, so I figured I was going to be okay.

I still get hung up on the academics of Christianity. I want to understand it all, and I don’t like mysteries that aren’t solved in the final chapters or wrapped up neatly by a Belgian detective with a handsome mustache. There is great solace for a person such as me in Lewis’ observation, “A man can accept what Christ has done without knowing how it works: indeed, he certainly would not know how it works until he has accepted it” (82.) It seems pathetic to try to verbalize how freeing that statement is.
I can say, “Oh, wow! That totally changed my life…” But really REALLY… it’s a liberatingly Big Deal.

Knowing that if I look for Christ, I will find Him, and when I find Him I will find everything else…in time, is enough.