FOR A moment there was silence under the cedar trees and then-pad, pad, pad-it was broken. Two velvet-footed lions came bouncing into the open space, their eyes fixed upon each other, and started playing some solemn romp. Their manes looked as if they had been just dipped in the river whose noise I could hear close at hand, though the trees hid it. Not greatly liking my company, I moved away to find that river, and after passing some thick flowering bushes, I succeeded. The bushes came almost down to the brink. It was as smooth as Thames but flowed swiftly like a mountain stream: pale green where trees overhung it but so clear that I could count the pebbles at the bottom. Close beside me I saw another of the Bright People in conversation with a ghost. It was that fat ghost with the cultured voice who had addressed me in the bus, and it seemed to be wearing gaiters.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy dear boy, I\u2019m delighted to see you,\u201d it was saying to the Spirit, who was naked and almost blindingly white. \u201cI was talking to your poor father the other day and wondering where you were.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t bring him?\u201d said the other.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, no. He lives a long way from the bus, and, to be quite frank, he\u2019s been getting a little eccentric lately. A little difficult. Losing his grip. He never was prepared to make any great efforts, you know. If you remember, he used to go to sleep when you and I got talking seriously! Ah, Dick, I shall never forget some of our talks. I expect you\u2019ve changed your views a bit since then. You became rather narrow-minded towards the end of your life: but no doubt you\u2019ve broadened out again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, it\u2019s obvious by now, isn\u2019t it, that you weren\u2019t quite right. Why, my dear boy, you were coming to believe in a literal Heaven and Hell!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut wasn\u2019t I right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, in a spiritual sense, to be sure. I still believe in them in that way. I am still, my dear boy, looking for the Kingdom. But nothing superstitious or mythological. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExcuse me. Where do you imagine you\u2019ve been?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, I see. You mean that the grey town with its continual hope of morning (we must all live by hope, must we not?), with its field for indefinite progress, is, in a sense, Heaven, if only we have eyes to see it? That is a beautiful idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t mean that at all. Is it possible you don\u2019t know where you\u2019ve been?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow that you mention it, I don\u2019t think we ever do give it a name. What do you call it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe call it Hell.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere is no need to be profane, my dear boy. I may not be very orthodox, in your sense of that word, but I do feel that these matters ought to be discussed simply, and seriously, and reverently.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDiscuss Hell reverently? I meant what I said. You have been in Hell: though if you don\u2019t go back you may call it Purgatory.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo on, my dear boy, go on. That is so like you. No doubt you\u2019ll tell me why, on your view, I was sent there. I\u2019m not angry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut don\u2019t you know? You went there because you are an apostate.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you serious, Dick?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPerfectly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is worse than I expected. Do you really think people are penalized for their honest opinions? Even assuming, for the sake of argument, that those opinions were mistaken.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you really think there are no sins of intellect?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere are indeed, Dick. There is hidebound prejudice, and intellectual dishonesty, and timidity, and stagnation. But honest opinions fearlessly followed-they are not sins.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know we used to talk that way. I did it too until the end of my life when I became what you call narrow. It all turns on what are honest opinions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMine certainly were. They were not only honest but heroic. I asserted them fearlessly. When the doctrine of the Resurrection ceased to commend itself to the critical faculties which God had given me, I openly rejected it. I preached my famous sermon. I defied the whole chapter. I took every risk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat risk? What was at all likely to come of it except what actually came-popularity, sales for your books, invitations, and finally a bishopric?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDick, this is unworthy of you. What are you suggesting?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFriend, I am not suggesting at all. You see, I know now. Let us be frank. Our opinions were not honestly come by. We simply found ourselves in contact with a certain current of ideas and plunged into it because it seemed modern and successful. At College, you know, we just started automatically writing the kind of essays that got good marks and saying the kind of things that won applause. When, in our whole lives, did we honestly face, in solitude, the one question on which all turned: whether after all the Supernatural might not in fact occur? When did we put up one moment\u2019s real resistance to the loss of our faith?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf this is meant to be a sketch of the genesis of liberal theology in general, I reply that it is a mere libel. Do you suggest that men like \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have nothing to do with any generality. Nor with any man but me and you. Oh, as you love your own soul, remember. You know that you and I were playing with loaded dice. We didn\u2019t want the other to be true. We were afraid of crude salvationism, afraid of a breach with the spirit of the age, afraid of ridicule, afraid (above all) of real spiritual fears and hopes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m far from denying that young men may make mistakes. They may well be influenced by current fashions of thought. But it\u2019s not a question of how the opinions are formed. The point is that they were my honest opinions, sincerely expressed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course. Having allowed oneself to drift, unresisting, unpraying, accepting every half-conscious solicitation from our desires, we reached a point where we no longer believed the Faith. Just in the same way, a jealous man, drifting and unresisting, reaches a point at which he believes lies about his best friend: a drunkard reaches a point at which (for the moment) he actually believes that another glass will do him no harm. The beliefs are sincere in the sense that they do occur as psychological events in the man\u2019s mind. If that\u2019s what you mean by sincerity they are sincere, and so were ours. But errors which are sincere in that sense are not innocent.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll be justifying the Inquisition in a moment!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? Because the Middle Ages erred in one direction, does it follow that there is no error in the opposite direction?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, this is extremely interesting,\u201d said the Episcopal Ghost. \u201cIt\u2019s a point of view. Certainly, it\u2019s a point of view. In the meantime . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere is no meantime,\u201d replied the other. \u201cAH that is over. We are not playing now. I have been talking of the past (your past and mine) only in order that you may turn from it forever. One wrench and the tooth will be out. You can begin as if nothing had ever gone wrong. White as snow. It\u2019s all true, you know. He is in me, for you, with that power. And- I have come a long journey to meet you. You have seen Hell: you are in sight of Heaven. Will you, even now, repent and believe?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not sure that I\u2019ve got the exact point you are trying to make,\u201d said the Ghost.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am not trying to make any point,\u201d said the Spirit. \u201cI am telling you to repent and believe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut my dear boy, I believe already. We may not be perfectly agreed, but you have completely misjudged me if you do not realize that my religion is a very real and a very precious thing to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery well,\u201d said the other, as if changing his plan. \u201cWill you believe in me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn what sense?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWill you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, that is a plan. I am perfectly ready to consider it. Of course I should require some assurances \u2026 I should want a guarantee that you are taking me to a place where I shall find a wider sphere of usefulness-and scope for the talents that God has given me-and an atmosphere of free inquiry-in short, all that one means by civilization and-er-the spiritual life.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d said the other. \u201cI can promise you none of these things. No sphere of usefulness: you are not needed there at all. No scope for your talents: only forgiveness for having perverted them. No atmosphere of inquiry, for I will bring you to the land not of questions but of answers, and you shall see the face of God.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, but we must all interpret those beautiful words in our own way! For me there is no such thing as a final answer. The free wind of inquiry must always continue to blow through the mind, must it not? Trove all things\u2019 . . . to travel hopefully is better than to arrive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf that were true, and known to be true, how could anyone travel hopefully? There would be nothing to hope for.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you must feel yourself that there is something stifling about the idea of finality? Stagnation, my dear boy, what is more soul-destroying than stagnation?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think that, because hitherto you have experienced truth only with the abstract intellect. I will bring you where you can taste it like honey and be embraced by it as by a bridegroom. Your thirst shall be quenched.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, really, you know, I am not aware of a thirst for some ready-made truth which puts an end to intellectual activity in the way you seem to be describing. Will it leave me the free play of Mind, Dick? I must insist on that, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFree, as a man is free to drink while he is drinking. He is not free still to be dry.\u201d The Ghost seemed to think for a moment. \u201cI can make nothing of that idea,\u201d it said.<\/p>\n
\u201cListen!\u201d said the White Spirit. \u201cOnce you were a child. Once you knew what inquiry was for. There was a time when you asked questions because you wanted answers, and were glad when you had found them. Become that child again: even now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, but when I became a man I put away childish things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have gone far wrong. Thirst was made for water; inquiry for truth. What you now call the free play of inquiry has neither more nor less to do with the ends for which intelligence was given you than masturbation has to do with marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf we cannot be reverent, there is at least no need to be obscene. The suggestion that I should return at my age to the mere factual in-quisitiveness of boyhood strikes me as preposterous. In any case, that question-and-answer conception of thought only applies to matters of fact. Religious and speculative questions are surely on a different level.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe know nothing of religion here: we think only of Christ. We know nothing of speculation. Come and see. I will bring you to Eternal Fact, the Father of all other facthood.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI should object very strongly to describing God as a \u2018fact.\u2019 The Supreme Value would surely be a less inadequate description. It is hardly . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you not even believe that He exists?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExists? What does Existence mean? You will keep on implying some sort of static, ready-made reality which is, so to speak, \u2018there,\u2019 and to which our minds have simply to conform. These great mysteries cannot be approached in that way. If there were such a thing (there is no need to interrupt, my dear boy) quite frankly, I should not be interested in it. It would be of no religions significance. God, for me, is something purely spiritual. The spirit of sweetness and light and tolerance-and, er, service, Dick, service. We mustn\u2019t forget that, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf the thirst of the Reason is really dead . . . ,\u201d said the Spirit, and then stopped as though pondering. Then suddenly he said, \u201cCan you, at least, still desire happiness?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHappiness, my dear Dick,\u201d said the Ghost placidly, \u201chappiness, as you will come to see when you are older, lies in the path of duty. Which reminds me. . . . Bless my soul, I\u2019d nearly forgotten. Of course I can\u2019t come with you. I have to be back next Friday to read a paper. We have a little Theological Society down there. Oh yes! there is plenty of intellectual life. Not of a very high quality, perhaps. One notices a certain lack of grip-a certain confusion of mind. That is where I can be of some use to them. There are even regrettable jealousies. \u2026 I don\u2019t know why, but tempers seem less controlled than they used to be. Still, one mustn\u2019t expect too much of human nature. I feel I can do a great work among them. But you\u2019ve never asked me what my paper is about! I\u2019m taking the text about growing up to the measure of the stature of Christ and working out an idea which I feel sure you\u2019ll be interested in. I\u2019m going to point out how people always forget that Jesus (here the Ghost bowed) was a comparatively young man when he died. He would have outgrown some of his earlier views, you know, if he\u2019d lived. As he might have done, with a little more tact and patience. I am going to ask my audience to consider what his mature views would have been. A profoundly interesting question. What a different Christianity we might have had if only the Founder had reached his full stature! I shall end up by pointing out how this deepens the significance of the Crucifixion. One feels for the first time what a disaster it was: what a tragic waste \u2026 so much promise cut short. Oh, must you be going? Well, so must I. Goodbye, my dear boy. It has been a great pleasure. Most stimulating and provocative. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Ghost nodded its head and beamed on the Spirit with a bright clerical smile-or with the best approach to it which such unsubstantial lips could manage-and then turned away humming? softly to itself \u201cCity of God, how broad and far.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Its latest incarnation is Marian Budde the PiskieBish of DC, who writes: To say that resurrection is essential doesn\u2019t mean that if someone were to discover a tomb with Jesus\u2019 remains in it that the entire enterprise would come crashing down. Uh, yeah. It does. \u201cIf Christ is not raised, your faith is in vain,\u201d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":92,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[12],"class_list":["post-43494","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-lewisiana"],"yoast_head":"\n
C.S. Lewis' Episcopal Ghost Walks the Earth<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Its latest incarnation is Marian Budde the PiskieBish of DC, who writes: To say that resurrection is essential doesn\u2019t mean that if someone were to\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/markshea\/2013\/04\/c-s-lewis-episcopal-ghost-walks-the-earth.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"C.S. 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