C. S. Lewis: Basis of My Faith Is Not the Bible

Today, many of C. S. Lewis’ readers are Evangelical Christians who believe in the inerrancy of the Bible. For C. S. Lewis, however, the Bible was not the foundation of his faith, much less the inerrancy of the Bible. Said he in a letter dating October 5, 1955:

My own position is not Fundamentalist, if Fundamentalism means accepting as a point of faith at the outset the proposition ‘Every statement in the Bible is completely true in the literal, historical sense.’ […]

The basis of our Faith is not the Bible taken by itself but the agreed affirmation of all Christendom: to wh[ich] we owe the Bible itself.

You may read more about C. S. Lewis’ view on the Bible in The C. S. Lewis Book on the Bible: What the Greatest Christian Writer Thought About the Greatest Book.

Why Martin Luther Added the Word “by Faith ALONE” to His Translation

Recently, I was surprised to find that Luther added the word “by faith ALONE” not for theological reasons but for linguistic reasons. That’s at least what he says in the following text. (This continues a previous post. Read it here.)

For you and our people, however, I shall show why I used the word “sola”–even though in Romans 3 it wasn’t “sola” I used but “solum” or “tantum”. That is how closely those asses have looked at my text! However, I have used “sola fides” in other places, and I want to use both “solum” and “sola”.

I have continually tried translating in a pure and accurate German. It has happened that I have sometimes searched and inquired about a single word for three or four weeks. Sometimes I have not found it even then. I have worked Meister Philip and Aurogallus so hard in translating Job, sometimes barely translating 3 lines after four days. Now that it has been translated into German and completed, all can read and criticize it.

One can now read three or four pages without stumbling one time–without realizing just what rocks and hindrances had once been where now one travels as as if over a smoothly-cut plank. We had to sweat and toil there before we removed those rocks and hindrances, so one could go along nicely. The plowing goes nicely in a clear field. But nobody wants the task of digging out the rocks and hindrances. There is no such thing as earning the world’s thanks. Even God cannot earn thanks, not with the sun, nor with heaven and earth, or even the death of his Son. It just is and remains as it is, in the devil’s name, as it will not be anything else.

I also know that in Rom. 3, the word “solum” is not present in either Greek or Latin text–the papists did not have to teach me that–it is fact! The letters s-o-l-a are not there. And these knotheads stare at them like cows at a new gate, while at the same time they do not recognize that it conveys the sense of the text–if the translation is to be clear and accurate, it belongs there. I wanted to speak German since it was German I had spoken in translation–not Latin or Greek.

But it is the nature of our language that in speaking about two things, one which is affirmed, the other denied, we use the word “solum” only along with the word “not” (nicht) or “no” (kein). For example, we say “the farmer brings only (allein) grain and no money”; or “No, I really have no money, but only (allein) grain”; “I have only eaten and not yet drunk”; “Did you write it only and not read it over?” There are a vast number of such everyday cases.

In all these phrases, this is a German usage, even though it is not the Latin or Greek usage. It is the nature of the German tongue to add “allein” in order that “nicht” or “kein” may be clearer and more complete. To be sure, I can also say “The farmer brings grain and no (kein) money”, but the words “kein money” do not sound as full and clear as if I were to say, “the farmer brings allein grain and kein money.” Here the word “allein” helps the word “kein” so much that it becomes a clear and complete German expression.

Billy Graham and C. S. Lewis: Two Different Paths to Faith and the Bible (2 of 2)

Billy Graham and C. S. Lewis: Two Different Paths to Faith and the Bible (1 of 2)

Extraordinary Claims Require Extraordinary Evidence

A Different Kind of Prayer: Wrestling with Questions

A few days ago, a learned correspondent posed a number of questions that implied a critique of orthodox Christianity and asked me what I do with them.

What I do with questions like that is this: I explore them as honestly as I can (“Might the author of Revelation have simply been a sad, sadistic, legalistic misogynist? Possibly.”) and hurl my doubts in Job-like fashion at heaven, so to speak. Even if there is no answer. I don’t try to defend the orthodox faith, like Job’s friends did, but try to honestly say what I think and feel – in the hope that, if there is a God, He will appreciate my honest search for Him more than my dishonest defense of proper doctrine.

It is, in a sense, the Atheist’s Wager with the twist of “putting my doubt in God” rather than throwing God overboard. I don’t have much of a prayer life in the traditional sense, but I view my critical exploration of these questions ultimately as a prayer.

Seek and You Shall Not Find: Disappointment with Prayer

One major disappointment in my life as a Christian has been unanswered prayer—so much that I have actually grown quite cynical about petitionary prayer. When I hear someone asking God for something, I cannot help but think, “Yeah, right. Nothing’s going to come of it anyway.” It is not that I want so badly to be cynical; it’s only that my experience with petitionary prayer, both first-hand and second-hand, has been mostly negative.

My most fanatical and embarrassing prayer “crash” occurred as a teenager when I prayed for my mole eyes to be healed. I actually convinced myself that God would heal them and accordingly began a complete fast (including liquids) until my healing would materialize. I genuinely thought I had received supernatural faith for the healing, and that I only needed to persevere in prayer to see the healing through.

I even smashed my glasses “in faith”—only to humbly buy new ones a few days later.

This is just one of many examples of my wayward religious zeal back in my teenage years, and its bitter disappointment has been deepened by many other prayer failures. Nor am I only speaking of myself. If that were the case, I might conclude that something’s wrong with me and try to fix it. But I’m speaking of most Christians I know.

Take the church I grew up in, for instance. It’s a lively congregation whose members firmly believe in God being involved in their daily lives. Yet, whenever the leaders gave room for testimonies about how God has answered prayers, I felt that I’d like to hide behind my chair because I was so embarrassed about the testimonies.

The reason? Well, the testimonies usually went like this:

Person No. 1:
“Last week, God really convinced me of His involvement in my daily life. He truly cares for every little thing. You see, I thought I’d lost my wallet in my car, but search as I might, the wallet wasn’t to be found. And then I paused a moment and prayed, ‘Lord, You know where my wallet is. I trust You.’ And can you believe it? As I stepped out of the car, I saw my wallet lying on its roof! I must have absent-mindedly put it there before I stepped in the car! Now isn’t God good? He cares for every detail in our lives. Nothing is too mundane for Him. Hallelujah!”

(Loud cheers and clapping.)

Person No. 2:
“I just want to thank God for having given me a job. I had been out of a job for more than a year, and I tried dozens of places to get a job, all for nothing. But God really encouraged me not to give up, and last week He was so good as to give me a job again. It’s not necessarily the job I’d dreamed about, but I’m still so grateful. God is good. He is our Provider.”

(Exclamations of “Hallelujah” and “Amen.”)

Person No. 3:
“I stand here today only because of God’s amazing protection. Last month, I had a car accident, but the Lord must have sent His angels to hover over me, because I got away with a few injuries. And now I’m almost completely restored. And my insurance covered everything too. Praise the Lord!”

(Repetitions of “Praise the Lord” from the congregation.)

Person No. 4:
“Brothers and sisters, I’m a living testimony that God still heals today. For several weeks, I had a bad backache. But then, a week ago, Pastor Gerald prayed with me, and the next day the backache was much better. It’s still not all the way gone, but I’m not going to listen to the devil’s lies that I’m not healed! By His stripes I am healed, in Jesus’ name! I trust Him that my backache will gradually become better until the healing is complete.”

(Once again loud clapping, although she never returns to report on her complete healing.)

I could go on like this, but I think you get the point.

Person No. 1 would have found his wallet on the car’s roof even if he hadn’t prayed. In fact, such misplacements and sudden findings happen to people all the time, irrespective of their religion.

Person No. 2 did get a job, but what about all the people in the congregation who still didn’t have a job? Why did God answer his prayer and not those of all the others who were looking for work? The fact is that the unemployment rate in my church was identical with that in our region in general. For every person who got a job there were probably two who lost theirs. They just didn’t give their testimonies. Once again: I see no difference between the unbeliever and the believer. Prayer seems superfluous.

No. 3 is no different. She got away with a few injuries, but what about the young engaged man in our church who was smashed to pieces in a car accident a few years before—together with his mother? What does his former fiancé say about No. 3’s testimony, or his never-to-be father-in-law and now widower? Where were God’s angels then? Maybe it had nothing to do with God’s angels, but only with chance. Or the long-awaited son that a couple in our church had gotten after many prayers and prophecies, only to be fatally run over by a car while still a toddler. What about all the grand prophecies regarding that child now?

And No. 4 is hardly any more convincing. The prayer might have helped her psyche and made her backache momentarily better, but by her own admission it wasn’t really healed yet.

Speaking of healing, the stories I have accumulated over the past ten years have led me to a dismal conclusion: Prayer makes no difference beyond that of a psychological—and through it, sometimes physical—impact.

I’m not saying that people don’t experience healings. But whatever their cause, it seems that prayer makes little difference. Some people report remarkable healings who didn’t even believe in God, while others have all the top healing evangelists in the world pray for them and organize international prayer chains, only to die of their fatal diseases.

I, myself, have been a part of such a prayer chain. A well-known church sent out a prayer request for one of their more prominent sick members. Besides many leaders in the healing ministry, thousands of Christians around the world prayed for that person. People even sent her e-mails and cards with encouraging “words from God,” including myself. I felt God leading me to a passage in Psalms about someone being close to the gates of Hades but experiencing restoration.

In spite of all the fervent prayer and the messages from “God,” she died after a few weeks of struggle.

And this story is by no means unique. The prayers of thousands often receive no answer, and answers sometimes come even though nobody asked for them. One is temped to turn Christ’s words around: “Seek and you shall not find; do not seek and you will find.” This is of course not always true, but it is the picture I have formed over the years.

 

Father Coyne’s Confessions to Richard Dawkins

A very interesting conversation of atheist and biologist Richard Dawkins with Catholic priest and astronomer George Coyne about science, faith, God, and the Bible.

A De-Conversion Story: Bart Ehrman (Part VII)

Go here for Part VI of Bart Ehrman’s de-conversion story. And here to read it from the beginning.

Occasionally I see a bumper sticker that reads: “God said it, I believe it, and that settles it.”

My response is always, What if God didn’t say it? What if the book you take as giving you God’s words instead contains human words? What if the Bible doesn’t give a foolproof answer to the questions of the modern age—abortion, women’s rights, gay rights, religious supremacy, Western-style democracy, and the like? What if we have to figure out how to live and what to believe on our own, without setting up the Bible as a false idol—or an oracle that gives us a direct line of communication with the Almighty?

There are clear reasons for thinking that, in fact, the Bible is not this kind of inerrant guide to our lives: among other things, as I’ve been pointing out, in many places we (as scholars, or just regular readers) don’t even know what the original words of the Bible actually were.

My personal theology changed radically with this realization, taking me down roads quite different from the ones I had traversed in my late teens and early twenties. I continue to appreciate the Bible and the many and varied messages that it contains—much as I have come to appreciate the other writings of early Christians from about the same time and soon thereafter, the writings of lesser-known figures such as Ignatius of Antioch, Clement of Rome, and Barnabas of Alexandria, and much as I have come to appreciate the writings of persons of other faiths at roughly the time, the writings of Josephus, and Lucian of Samosata, and Plutarch.

All of these authors are trying to understand the world and their place in it, and all of them have valuable things to teach us. It is important to know what the words of these authors were, so that we can see what they had to say and judge, then, for ourselves what to think and how to live in light of those words.

Thus far Bart Ehrman’s de-conversion story. He now calls himself an agnostic. As Ehrman himself says, however, there are many others who recognize his points about the Bible and yet are Christians. One of them is C. S. Lewis. For his take on the Bible, see my new book The C. S. Lewis Book on the Bible: What the Greatest Christian Writer Thought About the Greatest Book.)

A De-Conversion Story: Bart Ehrman (Part II)

This is a continuation of my earlier post, taken from Misquoting Jesus:

Bruce convinced me that I should consider becoming a “serious” Christian and devote myself completely to the Christian faith. This meant studying scripture full time at Moody Bible Institute, which, among other things, would involve a drastic change of lifestyle. At Moody there was an ethical “code” that students had to sign off on: no drinking, no smoking, no dancing, no card playing, no movies. And lots of Bible. As we used to say, “Moody Bible Institute, where Bible is our middle name.” I guess I looked on it as a kind of Christian boot camp. In any event, I decided not to go halfmeasures with my faith; I applied to Moody, got in, and went there in the fall of 1973.

The Moody experience was intense. I decided to major in Bible theology, which meant taking a lot of biblical study and systematic theology courses. Only one perspective was taught in these courses, subscribed to by all the professors (they had to sign a statement) and by all the students (we did as well): the Bible is the inerrant word of God. It contains no mistakes. It is inspired completely and in its very words—”verbal, plenary inspiration.”

All the courses I took presupposed and taught this perspective; any other was taken to be misguided or even heretical. Some, I suppose, would call this brainwashing. For me, it was an enormous “step up” from the milquetoast view of the Bible I had had as a socializing Episcopalian in my younger youth. This was hardcore Christianity, for the fully committed.

There was an obvious problem, however, with the claim that the Bible was verbally inspired—down to its very words. As we learned at Moody in one of the first courses in the curriculum, we don’t actually have the original writings of the New Testament. What we have are copies of these writings, made years later—in most cases, many years later. Moreover, none of these copies is completely accurate, since the scribes who produced them inadvertently and/or intentionally changed them in places. All scribes did this. So rather than actually having the inspired words of the autographs (i.e., the originals) of the Bible, what we have are the error-ridden copies of the autographs.

One of the most pressing of all tasks, therefore, was to ascertain what the originals of the Bible said, given the circumstances that (1) they were inspired and (2) we don’t have them.

I must say that many of my friends at Moody did not consider this task to be all that significant or interesting. They were happy to rest on the claim that the autographs had been inspired, and to shrug off, more or less, the problem that the autographs do not survive. For me, though, this was a compelling problem. It was the words of scripture themselves that God had inspired. Surely we have to know what those words were if we want to know how he had communicated to us, since the very words were his words, and having some other words (those inadvertently or intentionally created by scribes) didn’t help us much if we wanted to know His words.

This is what got me interested in the manuscripts of the New Testament, already as an eighteen-year-old. At Moody, I learned the basics of the field known as textual criticism—a technical term for the science of restoring the “original” words of a text from manuscripts that have altered them. But I wasn’t yet equipped to engage in this study: first I had to learn Greek, the original language of the New Testament, and possibly other ancient languages such as Hebrew (the language of the Christian Old Testament) and Latin, not to mention modern European languages like German and French, in order to see what other scholars had said about such things. It was a long path ahead.

At the end of my three years at Moody (it was a three-year diploma), I had done well in my courses and was more serious than ever about becoming a Christian scholar. My idea at the time was that there were plenty of highly educated scholars among the evangelical Christians, but not many evangelicals among the (secular) highly educated scholars, so I wanted to become an evangelical “voice” in secular circles, by getting degrees that would allow me to teach in secular settings while retaining my evangelical commitments. First, though, I needed to complete my bachelor’s degree, and to do that I decided to go to a toprank evangelical college. I chose Wheaton College, in a suburb of Chicago.

At Moody I was warned that I might have trouble finding real Christians at Wheaton …

To be continued.