C.S. Lewis.
Why do all the prophets die?
We hate the Truth and love the Lie
I've always respected C. S. Lewis, and I believe him to be the greatest apologist of the 20th century. But (like many) I was first exposed to him through the chronicles of Narnia which my father read to us. There is a scene in The Silver Chair in which the evil queen of an underground realm is playing mind games with our heroes. She is trying to convince them that this overland, with its sun and all the things they describe is pure fantasy. The allegory is clear, but I don't know why Lewis has one of our heroes (Puddleglum, as gloomy as the name sounds) say the following:
One word, Ma'am, he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those thingstrees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a playworld which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play-world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.
Paul wrote that if Jesus did not rise, the faith of Christ's followers was in vain. Lewis himself, in the Last Battle, portrays the dwarves as "none so blind as they that will not see." So why would a highly educated Christian apologist, thoroughly familiar with theology and philosophy from the ancient Greeks through the scholastics to the modern and early modern philosophers, believe that living a lie would be better than the truth? Sartre and even Nietzsche wrote about how devastating the cultural death of God was, yet here we find one who is at least their equal essentially arguing that if Christianity is wrong, if it is false, it's better to believe in the lie that comforts than the truth that hurts. That isn't faith through reason, but folly.
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