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I am a rationalist. For me,
reason is the natural organ of truth; but imagination is the organ of
meaning. (Lewis 1939a: 157) [1]
In my short biography of C.S. Lewis, I addressed a misconception that could arise
through reading this dissertation. There I stressed that although his work
contains much philosophy, Lewis was not – or not primarily – a philosopher.
Here I wish to address a second possible misconception. That misconception
would have it that Lewis was an out-and-out rationalist. As the epigraph
reveals, Lewis did sometimes call himself a rationalist, but it seems
evident that in so doing he was using the term rather loosely – as we shall
see.
Given that Lewis’
apologetic works make extensive use of reason it is unsurprising to find
him saying, in Mere Christianity, that “I am not asking anyone to
accept Christianity if his best reasoning tells him that the weight of
evidence is against it” (1952b: 121).
Lewis clearly believed that “the weight of evidence” is in favour of
Christianity. Although Lewis thought there was ample evidence available in
support of Christian belief, he did not think that the evidence is
logically conclusive.
I do
not think there is demonstrative proof (like Euclid) of
Christianity, nor of the existence of matter, nor of the good will and
honesty of my best and oldest friends. I think all three are (except
perhaps the second) far more probable than the alternatives. … As to why
God doesn’t make it demonstratively clear: are we sure that He is even
interested in the kind of Theism which would be a compelled logical assent
to a conclusive argument? Are we interested in it in personal matters? I
demand from my friend a trust in my good faith which is certain
without demonstrative proof.[2]
[T]here is evidence both for
and against the Christian [position] which fully rational minds, working
honestly, can assess differently. (1955a: 210)
[Our reasons for accepting Christian belief do
not] amount to logical compulsion. At every stage of religious development
man may rebel, if not without violence to his own nature, yet without
absurdity. (1940a: 20)
Lewis’ task as an
apologist was to present the Christian vision of reality in a compelling
way. Reason was only one of the tools that he used to achieve this. He made
vivid appeals to the imagination though the use of well-chosen
illustrations and analogies and, in his fictional works, by weaving
Christian imagery and ideas into his stories. Although reason was only one
of the tools used here, it was an essential tool. However, if a view does
not recommend itself to our intellect, it should be rejected no matter how
much it appeals to our imagination or moves our will. Lewis’ writings engage
our minds by connecting the Christian vision of reality with our experience
of life, and doing so in ways that enable each to illumine the other.
Let us suppose we possess
parts of a novel or a symphony. Someone now brings us a newly discovered
piece of manuscript and says, “This is the missing part of the work. This
is the chapter on which the whole plot of the novel really turned. This is
the main theme of the symphony.” Our business would be to see whether the
new passage, if admitted to the central place which the discoverer claimed
for it, did actually illuminate all the parts we had already seen and “pull
them together.” (Lewis 1960a: 113)
By illuminating and pulling together the diverse and seemingly
disparate facets of our lives, Christianity reveals itself as the truth.
Lewis offers many lines of argument; lines of argument that combine into a
single and compelling cumulative case for Christian belief.[3] Lewis was
convinced that becoming and remaining a Christian did not amount to
intellectual suicide. God wants us to worship Him with our minds as well as
with our hearts: “If you are thinking of becoming a Christian, I warn you
you are embarking on something which is going to take the whole of you,
brains and all” (Lewis 1952b: 72). However, we must be wary of reducing
Christianity to intellectual assent to a particular set of doctrines. “[W]e
must admit that Faith, as we know it, does not flow from philosophical
argument alone” (Lewis 1952a: 57). Indeed, Lewis warns us that
philosophical argument can sometimes become inimical to faith.
There have been men before now
who got so interested in proving the existence of God that they came to
care nothing for God Himself … as if the good Lord had nothing to do but exist!
(Lewis 1946a: 65-6)
If faith does not flow from reason alone, and if reason can
sometimes be inimical to faith even while being used in support of
Christian doctrines, one must ask why Lewis was so keen to use reason in
defence of faith. He answers that
To be ignorant and simple now
– not to be able to meet the enemies on their own ground – would be to
throw down our weapons, and to betray our uneducated brethren who have,
under God, no defence but us against the intellectual attacks of the
heathen. Good philosophy must exist, if for no other reason, because bad
philosophy needs to be answered. (1939b: 176)
Austin Farrer, who
often spoke at the Oxford Socratic Club, defended Lewis’ method:
It is commonly said that if
rational argument is so seldom the cause of conviction, philosophical apologists
must largely be wasting their shot. The premise is true, but the conclusion
does not follow. For though argument does not create conviction, the lack
of it destroys belief. What seems to be proved may not be embraced; but
what no one shows the ability to defend is quickly abandoned. Rational
argument does not create belief, but it maintains a climate in which belief
may flourish. (Farrer 1965)
To my mind, one of Lewis’ greatest achievements was to bring reason
to religion without reducing religious questions to intriguing matters of
metaphysics. It is not uncommon to find a philosopher discussing the
existence of God in just the same way as he would discuss the liar paradox:
as an intellectual game. Lewis was well aware of the temptation but he seldom,
if ever, gave into it. [4]
There comes a moment when the
children who have been playing burglars hush suddenly: was that a real footstep in the hall?
There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion (“Man's
search for God”!) suddenly raw back. Supposing we found Him? We never meant
it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us? (Lewis
1960a: 98)
Last Updated: 15th
March 2003
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