The Coronavirus of 2020 (2): Reflections

      In the last posting to this blog we compared some of the pestilence statistics from 1347 – 1351 C.E. with those of 2020 C.E., and noted that existential crises tend naturally to lead to re-examination of the ultimate concerns (fundamental values) of individuals and of societies.  The analysis of ultimate concerns arising from the war against SARS CoV-2 in the year 2020 is reminiscent of the World War II era, in which nations’ survivals were also at stake.  Between 1942 and 1944 the BBC radio service broadcast three talks by C. S. Lewis regarding the moral, spiritual, and intellectual content of Christianity.  These talks, offering spiritual clarity and encouragement to a people under duress, were subsequently collected as the book, Mere Christianity, in 1952.

      Today, the fraction of the population tuning in to C. S. Lewis broadcasts might be smaller than before; but that is a sociological effect not dealt with here, except to note in passing: Modern secular societies presuppose as a major premise, “If any public or private problem is real, then there exists a government program for that problem.”  But there is manifestly no government program for attaining life eternal (salvation).  Hence, attaining life eternal is not a real problem.  Lewis would presumably reject the major premise.

      In his Preface in Mere Christianity, Lewis announced that it was not his present purpose to dispute divisive theological points, but to expound “mere” Christianity, which had a settled existence long before he was born and whether he liked it or not.  He was himself Anglican, but some other Christian groups endorsed his ideas as well.  Having peeled back the divisive theological husks, however, what Lewis soon found was - - not the harvest grain of pure belief - - but the first bitter kernels of divisive philosophical contention. 

      Lewis found that he could not even use the word Christian without entering into intellectual trench warfare.  He wanted to say that a Christian is a human person who accepts the common doctrines of Christianity; but his critics took umbrage from the mere suggestion that Lewis, or anyone else, could identify who is or is not a Christian on the basis of accepted doctrines.  By Christian his critics meant only “having the spirit of Christ.”  [The Bible (e.g., Romans 8:9) frequently mentions the spirit of Christ; however, the question at issue is “What are the criteria for having the spirit of Christ, here, today?”]  Lewis remarked that his critics had rendered the word Christian useless, albeit with a spiritual veneer, as could be seen in an analogy between the terms Christian and gentleman.  At one time, a gentleman was anyone who had a coat of arms and owned some land.  A clever critic, however, could signal his own moral superiority by saying that a true gentleman is “one who exhibits noble behavior of a certain sort,” thereby transcending the “mere” issues of coats of arms and of land.  In so doing, the critic limits and impairs language by maintaining that if a person, X, calls some other person, Y, a gentleman; then the analyst no longer receives information about Y (that he has a coat of arms and owns some land) but rather receives information about X (that X likes Y and praises Y’s behavior).  The word gentleman becomes thereby useless for describing Y. 

      Analogously, Lewis believed that in the critic’s world, if X calls Y a true Christian; then the analyst gains no knowledge about Y, but only that X approves of Y.  In stark contrast, Lewis believed that the word Christian, and its meaning, derive from the Bible in Acts 11:26: Some of Jesus’ followers, who had fled the persecution of the church following Stephen’s stoning, re-assembled at Antioch, presented orthodox teachings about Jesus to the Greeks, and were referred to as Christians for the very first time.  Calling someone Christian goes hand-in-hand with presenting orthodox teachings about Jesus to those outside of the church.  Being orthodox implies, in turn, being subject to philosophical and theological debate.  Lewis’ version of “mere” Christianity is not presented as an alternative to existing creeds, but as the first stage of an orthodox faith: Metaphorically, one might think of a “mere” public vestibule of a large building from which doors lead into alternative meeting rooms for adherents of particular variants of orthodox Christian belief.  The contemplated variations have a restricted range: Lewis seems to presuppose that are only a few such rooms, history having weeded out exotic doctrinal species that are beyond the pale of intellectual or spiritual interest.  One might embellish his metaphor by specifying that there are windows in each of the meeting rooms that overlook a heaven outside the building, as well as doors leading out of each room and into that heaven beyond.

      In Mere Christianity (Book II) Lewis, speaking to the “us” who have recognized common bonds and assembled in the aforementioned public vestibule, counsels against an infatuation with watered-down Christianity, which in British English is rendered as “Christianity-and-water.”  Lewis says that the very attempt to teach Christian doctrine at the level of an instructed adult sometimes causes some critics to formulate and to promulgate the bold theological principle, “If God exists, then He would have made ‘religion’ simple.”  Lewis counters that this principle seems to presuppose that “religion” is just one more thing that God thought up at the last moment and appended to his Creation.  But this is false, Lewis contends, because one part of God’s purpose is to let mankind know, via religion, the truth of “His statement to us of certain quite unalterable facts about His own nature.”  This statement to us is complex, not simple.  The corresponding, corrected theological principle, is “If God exists, then He makes ‘religion’ as complex and unexpected as He is to us.”

      For Lewis, God’s grace of faith to someone is typically an occasion for the recipient systematically to evaluate and to appreciate the historical, traditional evidence for God’s presence in the world.  Such evaluation plays a key role in forming Christian convictions and encouraging believers in extremis.  Lewis would consider this encouragement equally applicable to Britain besieged by Fascism and to the entire globe menaced by Covid-19.  

      Lewis does not deal with David Hume’s argument against traditional evidence in religion: Hume thinks that we form and adopt beliefs by evaluating probabilities.  The probability that any particular, ancient evidence is true is always less than the probability that some ancient, evil commentator or historian falsified the report of that evidence.  Our knowledge is thus limited to relationships between ideas (e.g., mathematics) and to matters of fact and existence (empirical impressions that we can receive and remember).  Contra Hume, Lewis might have replied that one does not acquire knowledge of other minds or assurance of religious faith by the calculation of probabilities but by the meeting of persons who leave us with impressions.  Lewis could say both that faith comes from hearing the Christian message (Romans 10:17), which is an empirical or subjective viewpoint; and that God’s grace can give even the dead, like Lazarus, ears to hear that message (John 11:38-44).  The gift of ears to hear is consistent with an objective view of God’s intervention in the ordinary course of history or nature - - whether playing out in wartime Britain or threatening the entire globe during the pestilence of 2020.

      The present writer has heard some pessimistic interpretations of 19th and 20th century existentialist philosophy: Being or Existence is said to reveal to us certain things, like the subject – object distinction, which philosophy then proceeds to obscure with inadequate language.  But even if some obscurity remains, it seems that we are left with some agreed-upon revelations, which can be appreciated if not fully comprehended.  Other proposed revelations, regarding ways of life or persons proclaiming religious insights, are not eo ipso irrational intrusions into an otherwise unitary, rational world; but are potential additions to a rational, burgeoning Zeitgeist.  C. S. Lewis tried to remain faithful to as many of the revelations of the Western Zeitgeist as possible while giving his account of “mere” Christianity.