Clive Staples Lewis
Just Christianity
PREFACE
The contents of this book were the subject of a series of radio broadcasts and were subsequently published in three separate parts entitled Radio Conversations (1942), Christian Conduct (1943), and Beyond Personality (1944). In the printed version, I made a few additions to what I said into the microphone, but otherwise left the text unchanged. A conversation on the radio should not, in my opinion, sound like a literary essay read aloud, it should be precisely a conversation filled with sincerity. Therefore, in my conversations I used all the abbreviations and colloquial expressions, which I usually use in conversation. I have reproduced these abbreviations and colloquialisms in the printed version. And all those places where in a conversation on the radio I emphasized the importance of a particular word in the tone of my voice, in the printed version I highlighted it in italics. Now I am inclined to believe that this was a mistake on my part - an unwanted hybrid of art oral speech with the art of writing. A storyteller should use the tones of his voice to underline and emphasize certain points because the genre of conversation itself requires this, but a writer should not use italics for the same purposes. He has other means of his own and must use these means in order to allocate keywords.
In this edition I have eliminated abbreviations and replaced all italics, reworking those sentences in which these italics were found, without, I hope, damaging the “familiar” and simple tone that was characteristic of radio conversations. Here and there I made additions or deleted certain places; At the same time, I proceeded from the fact that original version, as I found out, was misunderstood by others, and I myself, in my opinion, began to understand the subject of the conversation better now than I understood ten years ago.
I would like to warn readers that I do not offer any help to those who are wavering between two Christian “denominations.” You will not get any advice from me as to what you should become: an Anglican or a Methodist, a Presbyterian or a Roman Catholic. I omitted this question deliberately (even I gave the above list simply in alphabetical order). I make no secret of my own position. I'm a perfectly ordinary member of the Church of England, not too 'high', not too 'short', not too much of anything at all. But in this book I make no attempt to win anyone over to my position.
From the very moment I became a Christian, I have always believed that the best and perhaps the only service I could render to my unbelieving neighbors was to explain and defend the faith which has been common and united to almost all Christians throughout the ages. of all times. I have enough reasons for this point of view.
First of all, the issues that divide Christians (into different denominations) often concern individual problems high theology or even church history, and these questions should be left for the consideration of specialists, professionals. I would drown in such depths and would rather need help myself than be able to give it to others.
Secondly, I think we must recognize that discussions on these controversial issues are unlikely to attract Christian family person from the outside. By discussing them in writing and orally, we are more likely to scare him away from the Christian community than to attract him to us. Our differences of opinion should only be discussed in the presence of those who have already come to believe that there is one God and that Jesus Christ is His only Son.
Finally, I have the impression that many more talented writers were involved in discussing these controversial issues than in defending the essence of Christianity, or “mere” Christianity, as Baxter calls it. The area in which I believed I could serve with greatest success, most of all, she needed such service. Naturally, that’s where I headed.
As far as I remember, this was all my motives and motivations amounted to, and I would be very glad if people did not draw far-reaching conclusions from my silence on certain controversial issues.
For example, such silence does not necessarily mean that I am taking a wait-and-see attitude. Although sometimes this is true. Christians sometimes have questions to which I don’t think we have answers. There are also some that I will most likely never get an answer to: even if I ask them in better world, then perhaps (as far as I know) I will receive the same answer as another, much greater questioner already received once: “What is that to you? Follow me!" However, there are other issues on which I take a very definite position, but on these issues I remain silent. Because I write not with the purpose of expounding something that I could call “my religion,” but in order to explain the essence of Christianity, which is what it is, has been so long before I was born and does not depend on whether I like it or not. Is it for me or not?
Some people draw unfounded conclusions from the fact that I speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary only in relation to the Immaculate Conception and the birth of Christ. But the reason for this is obvious. If I said a little more, it would immediately lead me into the realm of extremely controversial points of view. Meanwhile no one else controversial issue in Christianity there is no need for such a delicate approach as this. Roman Catholic Church defends his ideas on this issue not only with the usual ardor characteristic of all sincere religious beliefs, but (quite naturally) all the more ardently because this reveals the knightly sensitivity with which a man defends the honor of his mother or beloved from the danger that threatens her. It is very difficult to disagree with them in these views just enough so as not to seem to them ignorant, or even a heretic. Conversely, the opposing beliefs of Protestants on this issue are caused by feelings that go back to the very foundations of monotheism. To radical Protestants, it seems that the very distinction between Creator and creation (no matter how holy) is threatened; that polytheism is thus being revived again. However, it is very difficult to disagree with them just enough so as not to appear in their eyes as something worse than a heretic, namely a pagan. If there is a topic that can ruin a book about the essence of Christianity, if any topic can result in absolutely useless reading for those who have not yet believed that the Son of the Virgin is God, then this is exactly this topic.
Preface
The contents of this book were the subject of a series of radio broadcasts and were subsequently published in three separate parts entitled Radio Conversations (1942), Christian Conduct (1943), and Beyond Personality (1944). In the printed version, I made a few additions to what I said into the microphone, but otherwise left the text unchanged. A conversation on the radio should not, in my opinion, sound like a literary essay read aloud, it should be precisely a conversation filled with sincerity. Therefore, in my conversations I used all the abbreviations and colloquial expressions that I usually use in conversation. I have reproduced these abbreviations and colloquialisms in the printed version. And all those places where in a conversation on the radio I emphasized the importance of a particular word in the tone of my voice, in the printed version I highlighted it in italics. Now I am inclined to believe that this was a mistake on my part - an undesirable hybrid of the art of speaking with the art of writing. A storyteller should use the tones of his voice to underline and emphasize certain points because the genre of conversation itself requires this, but a writer should not use italics for the same purposes. He has other means of his own and must use these means in order to highlight the keywords.
In this edition I have eliminated abbreviations and replaced all italics, reworking those sentences in which these italics were found, without, I hope, damaging the “familiar” and simple tone that was characteristic of radio conversations. Here and there I made additions or deleted certain places; At the same time, I proceeded from the fact that the original version, as I found out, was misunderstood by others, and I myself, in my opinion, began to understand the subject of the conversation better now than I understood ten years ago.
I would like to warn readers that I do not offer any help to those who are wavering between two Christian “denominations.” You will not get any advice from me as to what you should become: an Anglican or a Methodist, a Presbyterian or a Roman Catholic. I omitted this question deliberately (even I gave the above list simply in alphabetical order). I make no secret of my own position. I'm a perfectly ordinary member of the Church of England, not too 'high', not too 'short', not too much of anything at all. But in this book I make no attempt to win anyone over to my position.
From the very moment I became a Christian, I have always believed that the best and perhaps the only service I could render to my unbelieving fellow men was to explain and defend the faith which has been common and united to almost all Christians throughout history. of all times. I have enough reasons for this point of view.
First of all, the issues that divide Christians (into different denominations) often concern individual issues of high theology or even church history, and these issues should be left to specialists, professionals. I would drown in such depths and would rather need help myself than be able to give it to others.
Secondly, I think we must recognize that discussions on these controversial issues are unlikely to attract an outsider into the Christian family. By discussing them in writing and orally, we are more likely to scare him away from the Christian community than to attract him to us. Our differences of opinion should only be discussed in the presence of those who have already come to believe that there is one God and that Jesus Christ is His only Son.
Finally, I have the impression that many more talented writers were involved in discussing these controversial issues than in defending the essence of Christianity, or “mere” Christianity, as Baxter calls it. The area in which I believed I could serve most successfully was the one in which such service was most in need. Naturally, that’s where I headed.
As far as I remember, this was all my motives and motivations amounted to, and I would be very glad if people did not draw far-reaching conclusions from my silence on certain controversial issues.
For example, such silence does not necessarily mean that I am taking a wait-and-see attitude. Although sometimes this is true. Christians sometimes have questions to which I don’t think we have answers. There are also some that I will most likely never get an answer to: even if I ask them in a better world, then. perhaps (as far as I know) I will receive the same answer as another, much greater questioner has already received: “What is that to you? Follow me!" However, there are other issues on which I take a very definite position, but on these issues I remain silent. Because I write not with the purpose of expounding something that I could call “my religion,” but in order to explain the essence of Christianity, which is what it is, has been so long before I was born and does not depend on whether I like it or not. Is it for me or not?
Some people draw unfounded conclusions from the fact that I speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary only in relation to the Immaculate Conception and the birth of Christ. But the reason for this is obvious. If I had said a little more, it would have immediately led me into the realm of extremely controversial points of view. Meanwhile, no other controversial issue in Christianity needs such a delicate approach as this one. The Roman Catholic Church defends its ideas on this subject not only with the usual ardor characteristic of all sincere religious beliefs, but (quite naturally) all the more ardently because it shows the chivalrous sensitivity with which a man defends the honor of his mother or beloved from the danger that threatens her . It is very difficult to disagree with them in these views just enough so as not to seem to them ignorant, or even a heretic. Conversely, the opposing beliefs of Protestants on this issue are caused by feelings that go back to the very foundations of monotheism. To radical Protestants, it seems that the very distinction between Creator and creation (no matter how holy) is threatened; that polytheism is thus being revived again. However, it is very difficult to disagree with them just enough so as not to appear in their eyes as something worse than a heretic, namely a pagan. If there is a topic that can ruin a book about the essence of Christianity, if any topic can result in absolutely useless reading for those who have not yet believed that the Son of the Virgin is God, then this is precisely this topic.
A strange situation arises: from my silence on these issues you cannot even conclude whether I consider them important or not. The fact is that the very question of their significance is also controversial. One of the areas on which Christians disagree is whether their differences are important. When two Christians from different denominations begin to argue, it is usually not long before one of them asks whether the issue is really that important; to which the other replies: “Is it important? Well, of course, it has the most significant meaning!”
All this was said only to explain what kind of book I was trying to write, and not at all in order to hide my beliefs or avoid responsibility for them. As I said, I don't keep them secret. In the words of Uncle Toby: “They are written in the prayer book.”
The danger was that, under the guise of Christianity as such, I might present something that was unique to the Church of England or (even worse) to myself. To avoid this, I sent the original draft of what became book two here to four different clergy (Church of England, Methodist, Presbyterian and Roman Catholic), asking them critical reviews. The Methodist thought that I had not said enough about faith, and the Catholic thought that I had gone too far on the question of the comparative unimportance of theories explaining the atonement. Otherwise, the five of us agreed with each other. I have not subjected the other books to the same scrutiny, because if they had caused differences of opinion among Christians, they would have been differences between individuals and schools, and not between different denominations.
So far as I can judge from these critical reviews, or from the numerous letters I have received, this book, faulty as it may be in other respects, has succeeded in one thing at least, namely, to give an idea of Christianity as generally accepted. Thus, this book may have an impact some help in overcoming the point of view that if we omit all controversial issues, then we will be left with only the vague and bloodless Holy Christian Faith. In fact, the Holy Christian Faith turns out to be not only something positive, but also categorical, separated from all non-Christian faiths by an abyss that cannot be compared with even the most serious cases of division within Christianity. If I have not directly helped the cause of reunification, I hope I have made it clear why we must unite. It is true that I have rarely encountered manifestations of the legendary theological intolerance on the part of committed members of communities with differing opinions from my own. The hostility comes mainly from people belonging to intermediate groups, both within the Church of England and other denominations, that is, from those who have little regard for the opinions of any community. And I found this state of affairs comforting. Because it is the centers of each community, where its true children are concentrated, that are truly close to each other - in spirit, if not in doctrine. And this shows that at the center of every community there is something or Someone who, despite all differences of opinion, all differences in temperament, all memories of mutual persecution, speaks with the same voice.
That's it for my doctrinal silences. In book three, which deals with moral issues, I also passed over certain points in silence, but for different reasons. Ever since I served as a private during the First World War, I had developed an antipathy for the people who, from the safety of their headquarters, issued calls and instructions to those on the front line. As a result, I am not inclined to talk much about temptations that I have not had to face myself. I believe that there is no such person who would be tempted by all sins. It just so happened that the impulse that makes players out of people was not implanted in me at my creation; and, without a doubt, I pay for this by the absence in me of other, useful impulses which, being exaggerated or distorted, push a person towards the path of gambling. Therefore, I do not feel competent enough to give advice as to what kind of gambling is permissible and what is not: if there are any permissible ones at all. gambling, then I simply don’t know about it. I also passed over the issue of contraceptives in silence. I'm not a woman, I'm not even a married man or a priest. Therefore, I do not consider myself entitled to take a decisive position in a matter associated with pain, danger and costs from which I myself am spared; Moreover, I do not hold a pastoral position that would oblige me to do this.
There may be deeper objections - and they have been expressed - to my understanding of the word Christian, by which I mean a person who shares the generally accepted doctrines of Christianity. People ask me a question:
“Who are you to decide who is a Christian and who is not?” Or: “Might not many people who are unable to believe in these doctrines turn out to be much truer Christians, closer to the spirit of Christ, than those who believe in these doctrines?” This objection is in a sense very true, very merciful, very spiritual, very sensitive. But having all the useful properties, it is useless. We simply cannot use it with impunity language categories just as our opponents want us to do. I will try to clarify this by using another, much less important word as an example.
The word “gentleman” originally meant something quite specific - a man who had his own coat of arms and land property. When you called someone a gentleman, you weren't giving him a compliment, you were simply stating a fact. If you said about someone that he was not a gentleman, it was not an insult, but simple information. In those days, to say that, for example, John is a liar and a gentleman would not have been a contradiction; at least it would not sound more contradictory than if we were to say today that James is a fool and a master of science. But then people appeared who said - they said so truly, kindly, with such deep understanding and sensitivity (and yet their words did not carry useful information): “But for a gentleman, what is important is not his coat of arms and land, but how he behaves. Of course, a true gentleman is one who behaves like a gentleman, right? Which means Edward is much more of a gentleman than John.” Those who said this had noble intentions. It is much better to be honest and polite and brave than to have your own coat of arms. But it's not the same thing. Worse yet, not everyone wants to agree with this. For the word “gentleman” in this new, ennobled sense ceases to be information about a person, and simply turns into praise of him: to say that such and such a person is not a gentleman is to insult him. When a word ceases to be a means of description, but becomes only a means of praise, it no longer carries factual information: it only testifies to the attitude of the speaker. (“Good” food means only that the speaker likes it.) The word “gentleman,” having been “spiritualized” and “purified” of its former, clear and objective meaning, now hardly means more than that the speaker likes it about whom we're talking about. As a result, the word "gentleman" has become a useless word. We already had a monotony of words expressing approval, so for this purpose we did not need it: on the other hand, if someone (for example, historical work) wishes to use this word in its old sense, he will not be able to do this without resorting to explanations, because the word is no longer suitable for expressing its original meaning.
So if one day we allow people to elevate and ennoble or, as they say, give a deeper meaning to the word “Christian,” that word too will soon lose its meaning. First, Christians themselves cannot apply it to any person. It is not for us to decide who, in the deepest sense of the word, is close or not to the spirit of Christ. We cannot read people's hearts. We cannot judge, we are forbidden to judge. It would be a dangerous presumption on our part to say that such and such a person is or is not a Christian in the deepest sense of the word. But it is obvious that a word that we cannot use becomes useless. As for non-believers, they will undoubtedly readily use this word in its “refined” sense. In their mouths it will become simply an expression of praise. By calling someone a Christian, they will only mean that he is a good person. But such use of this word will not enrich the language, because we already have the word “good”. Meanwhile, the word "Christian" will cease to be suitable for fulfilling the truly useful purpose it now serves.
We must, therefore, adhere to the original, clear meaning of this word. For the first time, “disciples” began to be called Christians in Antioch, that is, those who accepted the teachings of the apostles (Acts II, 26). Undoubtedly, only those who benefited most from this teaching were so called. Of course, this name did not apply to those who hesitated whether to accept the teachings of the apostles, but to those who, precisely in a sublime, spiritual sense, turned out to be “much closer to the spirit of Christ.” This is not a matter of theology or morality. It's just a matter of using words in a way that makes it clear to everyone what is being said. If a person who has accepted the doctrine of Christianity leads a life unworthy of it, it would be more correct to call him a bad Christian than to say that he is not a Christian.
I hope that it will not occur to any reader that the “essence” of Christianity is being offered here as some kind of alternative to existing religions. Christian churches- as if anyone could prefer it to the doctrine of Congregationalism, or the Greek Orthodox Church, or anything else. Rather, the “essence” of Christianity can be compared to a hall from which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring someone into this hall, my goal will be achieved. But the lit fireplaces, chairs and food are in the rooms, not in the hall. This hall is a waiting place, a place from which one can go through one or another door, and not a habitat. Even the worst room (any room) is more suitable for living. Some people will probably feel that it is more beneficial for them to stay in this room longer, while others will almost immediately choose with confidence the door on which they should knock. I don't know what makes this difference, but I am confident that God will not keep anyone in the waiting room longer than the interests of that person require. When you finally enter your room, you will see that the long wait has brought you certain benefits that you would not otherwise have received. But you should look at this preliminary stage as an expectation, and not as a rest stop. You must continue to pray for light; and of course, even while in the hall, you should begin to try to follow the rules common to the whole house. And besides, you must ask which door is true, regardless of which one you like best in its paneling or coloring. To put it simply, you should not ask yourself, “Do I like this service?” but, “Are these doctrines correct? Is this where holiness resides? Is this where my conscience points me the way? Does my reluctance to knock on this door come from my pride, or simply from my taste, or from my personal dislike of this particular gatekeeper?
When you enter your room, be kind to those who have entered through other doors and to those still waiting in the hall. If they are your enemies, then remember that you are commanded to pray for them. This is one of the rules common to the entire house.
Book 1: Good and Evil as the Key to Understanding the Universe
Law human nature
Everyone heard people quarreling among themselves. Sometimes it looks funny, sometimes it's just unpleasant; but whatever it may look like, I believe we can learn some important lessons by listening to what those fighting say to each other. They say things like: “How would you like it if someone did the same to you?”, “This is my place, I took it first,” “Leave him alone, he’s not doing anything bad to you.” “,” “Why should I give in to you?”, “Give me a piece of your orange, I gave you some of mine,” “Come on, come on, you promised.” People say this every day - both educated and uneducated, both children and adults.
What interests me about all of these and similar comments is that the person making them is not simply saying that he doesn't like the other person's behavior. At the same time, he appeals to some standard of behavior that, in his opinion, the other person knows about. And the other one very rarely answers: “To hell with your standards!” Almost always he tries to show that what he did does not actually violate this standard of behavior, and if it does, then there are special excusable reasons for this. He pretends that in this particular case he had these special reasons to ask for the place of the one who took it first, or that he was given a piece of orange under completely different circumstances, or that something unexpected happened that frees him from the need to fulfill his promise. In fact, it looks like both parties had in mind some kind of Law or Rule of Fair Play, or decent behavior, or morality, or something like that, regarding which they both agree. And indeed it is. If they did not have this Law in mind, they could, of course, fight like animals fight, but they could not quarrel and argue like humans. To quarrel is to try to show that the other person is wrong. And there would be no point in this effort if there were not some kind of agreement between you and him about what is good and what is evil.
Likewise, it would not make sense to say that a football player committed a foul unless there was some agreement about the rules of the game of football.
This law was previously called “natural”, that is, the law of nature. Today, when we talk about "laws of nature," we usually mean things like gravity, or heredity, or chemical laws. But when ancient thinkers called the laws of good and evil “laws of nature,” they meant by this “law of human nature.” Their idea was that, just as all physical bodies obey the law of gravity, just as all organisms obey biological laws, so the being called man has his own law - with the great difference, however, that the physical body cannot choose whether to obey it the law of gravity or not, while man has the right to choose whether to obey the law of human nature or to violate it.
The same idea can be expressed in another way. Each person is constantly, every second, under the influence of several various laws. And among them there is only one, which he is free to violate. Being a physical body, a person is subject to the law of gravity and cannot go against it: if you leave a person unsupported in the air, he will have no more freedom of choice than a stone, whether to fall to the ground or not to fall. As an organism, man must obey various biological laws, which he cannot violate at will, just as animals cannot violate them. That is, a person cannot but obey the laws that he shares with other bodies and organisms. But that law, which is inherent only in human nature, and which does not apply to animals, plants or inorganic bodies, is a law that a person can violate at his own choice. This law was called "natural" because people think that every person knows it instinctively and therefore no one needs to teach it.
At the same time, of course, it was not meant that from time to time we would not come across individuals who would not know about it, just as from time to time we encounter color-blind people or people who are completely deprived of musical hearing. But, looking at humanity as a whole, people believed that the human idea of decent behavior was obvious to everyone, and I think they were right. If they were wrong, then everything we say about war, for example, would be meaningless. What is the point of declaring that the enemy is wrong if such a thing as goodness were not a reality? If the Nazis had not known in their hearts as well as you and I that they had to obey to the voice of goodness, if they had no idea of what we call good, then, although we would have to fight against them, we could blame them for the evil they did no more than we could blame them for the color of their hair.
I know that in the opinion of some people the law of decent conduct, which we all know, has no solid foundation because, in different centuries, different civilizations have held completely different views on morality. But this is not true. Differences between views on morality did exist, but they always concerned only particulars.
If anyone takes the trouble to compare the moral teachings that prevailed in, say, ancient Egypt, Babylon, India, China, Greece and Rome, he will be struck by the fact how similar these teachings were to each other and to our modern concept of morality. I have summarized some evidence of this in one of my books called “Man Is Canceled,” but in this moment I would just like to ask the reader to think about what a completely different understanding of morality would lead to. Imagine a country where people are admired for running away from a battlefield, or where a man is proud of having deceived everyone who showed him genuine kindness. You might as well imagine a country where two and two equal five. People differed in their views on who should not be selfish towards - whether only towards members of one's own family, or towards those who live around, or towards all people in general. However, they always agreed that one should not put oneself first. Selfishness has never been considered a commendable quality anywhere.
People also had different opinions on the question of how many wives one should have: one or four. But they always agreed that you do not have the right to take every woman you like.
However, the most remarkable thing is this. Whenever you meet a person who claims that he does not believe in the reality of good and evil, the very next moment you will see how this same person himself returns to the principles he rejected. He can break a promise to you, but if you try to break a promise to him, before you can even say a word, he will complain: “It’s not fair.” Representatives of a country may claim that treaties have no meaning, but the next minute they will undermine their own assertion by declaring that the treaty they are about to break is unjust. However, if contracts have no meaning and if there is no good and evil, in other words, if there is no law of human nature, then what difference can there be between just and unjust contracts? I think you can't hide an sew in a bag, and, whatever they say, it is quite clear that they know this law of human nature as well as any other person.
It follows that we are forced to believe in the true existence of good and evil. At times people may make mistakes in defining them, as they make mistakes, say, in adding numbers, but the concept of good and evil is no more dependent on one's taste and opinion than the multiplication table. Now, if you agree with me on this point, we will move on to the next one. It is that none of us truly follows the law of nature. If there are people among you who are exceptions, I offer them my apologies. I would advise these people to read some other book, because what I am going to talk about here has nothing to do with them.
So let's return to ordinary human beings. I hope you don't misunderstand what I'm about to say. I'm not preaching here, and God knows I'm not trying to be better than anyone else. I'm just trying to draw your attention to one fact, namely, that this year, or this month, or, more likely, today, you and I have failed to behave the way we would like other people to behave . There can be any number of explanations and apologies for this.
For example, you were terribly tired when you were so unfair to children; that not entirely clean deal, which you almost forgot about, turned up to you at a moment when you were especially tight with money; and what you promised to do for such and such an old friend of yours (you promised and did not do) - well, you would never have committed yourself to a word if you knew in advance how terribly busy you would be at that time! As for your behavior with your wife (or husband), sister (or brother), if I knew how they can irritate a person, I would not be surprised - and who am I, after all? I'm the same way myself. That is, I myself fail to properly observe the natural law, and as soon as someone starts telling me that I am not observing it, a whole swarm of excuses and explanations immediately appears in my head. But at the moment we are not interested in how valid all these apologies and explanations are. The fact is that they are just another proof of how deeply, whether we like it or not, we believe in the law of human nature. If we don't believe in the real value of decent behavior, why are we so eager to justify our less-than-decent behavior? The truth is that we believe in decency so deeply - we feel so much pressure from that law or rule - that we cannot bear the fact that we break it, and as a result we try to blame our violation on someone else. this or something else.
Have you noticed that we only look for explanations for our bad behavior? Only ours bad behavior we explain by saying that we were tired, or worried, or hungry. Yours good behavior we don't explain external reasons: we put it solely to our credit. So, I want to draw your attention to two points: First: human beings in all parts globe share the curious idea that they should behave in a certain way. They can't get rid of this idea. Second, they don't actually behave that way. They know natural law, and they violate it.
Our understanding of ourselves and the Universe in which we live is based on these two facts.
Some objections
If these two facts are the basis, then I should stop to strengthen it before going further. Some of the letters I have received indicate that there are many people who find it difficult to understand what natural law, or moral law, or rules of decent behavior are.
In these letters, for example, I read: “Isn’t what you call the moral law simply our herd instinct, and hasn’t it developed in the same way as all our other instincts?”
Well, I don’t deny that we can have a herd instinct; but this is not at all what I mean by moral law. We all know what it means to feel the impulses of instinct within ourselves - be it maternal love, or sexual instinct, or the feeling of hunger. This instinct means that you are experiencing desire act in a certain way. And of course, sometimes we experience a strong desire to help another person, and there is no doubt that such a desire arises in us thanks to the herd instinct. But feeling the desire to help is not at all the same as feeling: you have to help, whether you want it or not. Suppose you hear a cry for help from a person in danger. You may feel two desires: one - to help him (due to your herd instinct) and another desire - to stay away from danger (due to the instinct of self-preservation). However, in addition to these two impulses, you will find within yourself a third one, which tells you that you must follow the impulse that pushes you to help, and must suppress the urge to run away. This impulse which judges between two instincts, which decides which instinct is to be followed and which to be suppressed, cannot itself be either of them. You could just as easily say that the sheet of music that tells you which key you should hit at that moment is itself one of the keys. The moral law tells us what tune we should play; our instincts are just keys.
There is another way of pointing out that the moral law is not just one of our instincts. If two instincts are in conflict with each other and there is nothing in our mind other than them, then, quite obviously, the instinct that is stronger would win. However, in those moments when we feel the impact of this law especially acutely, it seems to prompt us to follow which of the two impulses is, on the contrary, weaker. You are probably much more willing to avoid risking your own safety than to help someone who is drowning; but the moral law nevertheless compels you to help the drowning man. And, isn’t it true, he often tells us: try to activate your correct impulse, make it stronger than it is in its natural manifestation.
What I mean by this is that we often feel the need to stimulate our herd instinct, for which we awaken our imagination and feeling of pity - so much so that we have the courage to do a good deed. And of course, we do not act instinctively when we stimulate this need to do a good deed. A voice within us that says:
“Your herd instinct is asleep. Awaken him,” cannot itself belong to the herd instinct.
This question can be looked at from a third point of view. If the moral law were one of our instincts, we could point to a certain impulse within us which would always be in agreement with the rule of decent conduct. But we do not find such an impulse within ourselves. Among all our impulses there is not one which the moral law has never had reason to suppress, and not one which it has never had reason to stimulate. Would consider it a mistake that some of our instincts - such as maternal love or patriotism, for example - are correct and good, while others - such as the sexual or warlike instinct - are bad. It’s just that in life you more often come across circumstances when you need to curb your sexual or warlike instinct than when you have to restrain mother's love or patriotic feeling. However, in certain situations, the duty of a married man is to arouse the sexual impulse, and the duty of a soldier is to arouse the warlike instinct in himself.
On the other hand, there are circumstances when a mother's love for her children and a man's love for his country must be suppressed; otherwise it would lead to injustice to the children of other parents and to the people of other countries. Strictly speaking, there are no such concepts as good and bad impulses. Let's go back to the piano example. There are no two on the keyboard various types key - faithful and unfaithful. Depending on when a note is played, it will sound true or false. The moral law is not some separate instinct or some set of instincts. It is something (call it virtue or right behavior) that guides our instincts, bringing them into conformity with the life around us.
By the way, this is serious practical significance. The most dangerous thing a person is capable of is to choose one of his inherent natural impulses and follow it always, at any cost. We do not have a single instinct that would not turn us into devils if we began to follow it as some kind of absolute guideline. You might think that the instinct of love for all humanity is always safe. And you will be wrong. If you neglect justice, you will find yourself breaking contracts and giving false testimony in court “in the interests of humanity,” and this will ultimately lead to you becoming a cruel and treacherous person.
Some people in their letters ask me the following question: “Perhaps what you call a moral law is in fact a social agreement that becomes our property thanks to the education we receive?” I think, similar question arises from a misunderstanding of certain things. People who ask it assume that if we have learned something from our parents or teachers, then this “something” is certainly a human invention. However, this is not at all true. We all learn the multiplication tables at school. A child who grew up alone on an abandoned island will not know this table. But this, of course, does not mean that the multiplication table is just a human convention, something invented by people for themselves, which they could invent in a different way if they wanted. I completely agree that we learn the rules of decent behavior from parents, teachers, friends and from books, just as we learn everything else. However, only some of these things we learn are just conventions, and they could actually be changed; for example, we are taught to hold on right side roads, but we might as well use the rule left-hand traffic. Rules such as mathematics are a different matter. They cannot be changed, because these are real, objectively existing truths.
The question is what category of rules does natural law fall into? There are two reasons why it belongs to the same category as the multiplication table. The first, as I said in the first chapter, is that, despite different approach to questions of morality in different countries and in different times, these differences are insignificant. They are not nearly as big as some people imagine. Always and everywhere, ideas about morality came from the same law. Meanwhile, simple (or conditional) agreements, like traffic rules or the cut of clothing, can differ from each other indefinitely.
The second reason is as follows. When you think about these differences in the moral ideas of different peoples, does it occur to you that the morality of one people is better (or worse) than the morals of another people? Wouldn't some changes help improve it? If not, then, of course, there could be no progress in morality. After all, progress does not just mean change, but change for the better. If no one moral code was truer or better than the other, then there would be no point in preferring the morality of a civilized society to the morality of savages, or the morality of Christians to the morality of the Nazis.
In fact, we all, of course, believe that one morality is better, more correct, than another. We believe that the men who tried to change the moral ideas of their time, who were the so-called reformers, understood the meaning of moral principles better than their fellow men. Well, fine. However, the very moment you declare that one moral code is better than another, you mentally apply a certain standard to them and conclude that this code is more consistent with it than that one.
However, the standard that serves as your measure of two things must itself be different from both of them. IN in this case you are thus comparing these moral codes with some true morality, thereby recognizing that such a thing as true justice does exist, regardless of what people think, and regardless of the fact that the ideas of some are more consistent with this true justice, than the ideas of others. Or let's look at it from a different perspective. If your moral ideas can be more correct, and the moral ideas of the Nazis can be less correct, then there must be something - some true moral standard - which can serve as a measure of the correctness or incorrectness of certain views. The reason why your idea of New York may be more correct or incorrect than mine is that New York is a real place and it exists regardless of what any of us think about it. If each of us, when we said “New York,” simply meant “the city I imagined,” how could one’s idea of it be truer than another’s? Then there could be no question of someone being right or someone being wrong. Likewise, if the rule of decent behavior simply meant “whatever the given people", there would be no point in asserting that one people is fairer in its assessments than another. It would make no sense to say that the world can get better or worse morally.
Thus I may conclude that, although the differences between men's notions of decent behavior often make us doubt whether there is such a thing as a true law of conduct, the fact that we are inclined to think about these differences proves that it exists .
Before I finish, let me say a few more words. I have met people who exaggerate the differences mentioned because they did not see the difference between differences in moral ideas and in understanding or thinking about certain facts. For example, one person told me: “Three hundred years ago in England they killed witches. Was this a manifestation of what you call natural law, or the law of right conduct? But we don't kill witches today because we don't believe in their existence. If we believed - if we really thought that there are people around us who have sold their souls to the devil and received from him in return supernatural powers, which they use to kill their neighbors, or drive them mad, or cause bad weather, - we would all certainly agree that if anyone deserves death penalty, so it is they, these wicked traitors. In this case there is no difference in moral principles: the difference lies only in the view of the fact.
The fact that we do not believe in witches is perhaps an indication of great progress in human knowledge: the cessation of trials of witches in whose existence we have ceased to believe cannot be regarded as progress in the field of morality. You would not call a person who stopped setting mousetraps humane if you knew that he simply made sure that there were no mice in his house.
The reality of the law
I will now return to what I said at the end of the first chapter about two curious features inherent in humanity. The first is that people tend to think that they must abide by certain rules of behavior, in other words, rules of fair play, or decency, or morality, or natural law.
The second is that in reality people do not follow these rules. Some may ask why I call this state of affairs strange. It may seem like the most natural position in the world to you. Perhaps you think I'm too harsh on to the human race. After all, you may say, what I call the violation of the law of good and evil simply demonstrates the imperfection of human nature. And actually, why do I expect perfection from people? Such a reaction would be correct if I were trying to calculate exactly how guilty we are of not acting as we think others should act. But that is not my intention at all. At the moment I am not at all interested in the question of guilt: I am trying to find the truth. And from this point of view, the very idea of imperfection, that we are not what we should be, leads to certain consequences.
An object, such as a stone or a tree, is what it is, and it makes no sense to say that it should be different. You can, of course, say that the stone is the "wrong" shape if you were going to use it for decorative purposes in the garden, or that it is a "bad tree" because it doesn't give you enough shade. But by this you would only mean that this stone or that tree is not suitable for your purposes. You wouldn’t blame them for this, unless it was just for fun. You know that due to the weather and soil, your tree simply couldn't be any different. So it is “bad” because it obeys the laws of nature in the same way as a “good” tree.
Have you noticed what follows from this? It follows from this that what we usually call a law of nature, such as influence natural conditions on the formation of a tree may not be called a law in the strict sense of the word. After all, when we say that falling rocks always obey the law of gravity, we essentially mean that “rocks always do this.” Don't you really think that when a stone is released from your hands, it suddenly remembers that it has an order to fly to the ground? You simply mean that the stone actually falls to the ground. In other words, you cannot be sure that behind these facts there is something hidden beyond the facts themselves, some law about what should happen, as opposed to what actually happens.
The laws of nature, as applied to stones and trees, only state what actually happens in nature. But when you turn to natural law, to the law of decent behavior, you are faced with something completely different. This law certainly does not mean that human beings really do” because, as I said before, many of us are not subject to this law at all and none of us are completely subject to it. The law of gravity tells you what a stone will do if it is dropped; The moral law tells us what human beings should do and what they should not do. In other words, when you deal with people, then, in addition to simple facts that need to be stated, you are faced with something else, some kind of incidental driving force above the facts. Here are the facts (people behave this way). But there is something else in front of you (they should behave like this). In everything that concerns the rest of the Universe (besides man), there is no need for anything other than facts. Electrons and molecules behave in certain ways, from which certain results follow, and that may be all there is to it. (However, I do not think that this is evidenced by the arguments that we have at our disposal. at this stage). However, people behave in a certain way, and of course nothing ends there, since you know that they should behave differently.
This is all so strange that people try to explain it one way or another. For example, we can come up with this explanation: when you say that a person should not behave the way he behaves, you mean the same thing as in the case of a stone when you say that it has an irregular shape, namely, that This person's behavior makes you feel uncomfortable. However, such an explanation would be completely incorrect. The man who took the corner seat on the train because he got there first, and the man who slid into that corner seat by taking your briefcase from it when your back was turned, caused you equal inconvenience. But you blame the second, but not the first. I don't get angry - maybe only for a few moments until I calm down - when some person accidentally tripes me up. But I get indignant when someone wants to trip me up deliberately, even if he doesn’t succeed. Meanwhile, the first gave me an unpleasant moment, but the second did not.
Sometimes behavior that I consider bad does not harm me personally at all, quite the contrary. During war, each side is happy to take advantage of the services of a traitor on the enemy's side. But even using his services, even paying for them, both sides look at the traitor as a scumbag. Therefore, you cannot determine the behavior of other people as decent, guided only by the criterion of the usefulness of this behavior for you personally. As for our own decent behavior, I think none of us views it as behavior that benefits us. To behave decently is to be content with thirty shillings when you could have had three pounds; it is to honestly complete your school homework when it would be easy to deceive the teacher; this is to leave the girl alone, instead of taking advantage of her weakness; it is not to run away from a dangerous place, taking care of your own safety; it is keeping your promises when it would be easier to forget about them; it is telling the truth, even if it makes you look like a fool in the eyes of others.
Some people say that although decent behavior does not necessarily bring benefits to this person in the moment, it ultimately benefits humanity as a whole. And that, therefore, there is nothing mysterious about it. People, after all, have common sense. They understand that they can only be happy or feel truly safe in a society where everyone plays fairly. That is why they try to behave decently. There is, of course, no doubt that the secret of security and happiness lies only in an honest, fair and friendly attitude towards each other from the outside as individuals both groups and entire nations. This is one of the most important truths in the world. And yet we find in her weakness when we try to explain with it our approach to the problem of good and evil.
If we ask, “Why shouldn’t I be selfish?” and get the answer, “Because it’s good for society,” then a new question may arise: “Why should I think about what’s good for society if it does not bring any benefit to me personally? But there is only one possible answer to this question: “Because you shouldn’t be selfish.” As you can see, we have arrived at the same place we started from. We are only stating what is true. If a person asked you why they play football, the answer “to score goals” would hardly be a good one. Because scoring goals is the game itself, not its reason. Your answer would simply mean that “football is football”, and that is certainly true, but is it worth saying?
In the same way, if a person asks what is the point of behaving decently, it is pointless to answer him: “In order to benefit society.” Since trying to “benefit society,” in other words, not being selfish, selfish (because society ultimately means “other people”), this means being a decent, selfless person.
After all, selflessness is integral part decent behavior. So you are essentially saying that decent behavior is decent behavior. You might as well stop at the statement: “People should be selfless.”
This is where I want to stop. People must be unselfish, must be fair. This does not mean that they are selfless or that they like to be selfless; this means that they should be like this. The moral law, or natural law, does not simply state the fact of human behavior, just as the law of gravity states the fact of the behavior of heavy objects when they fall. On the other hand, this natural law is not just a fiction, because we cannot forget about it. And if we forgot about it, then most of what we say and think about people would turn into nonsense. And this is not just a statement about how we would like others to behave for our convenience. Because so-called bad or dishonest behavior does not entirely and does not always correspond to behavior that is inconvenient for us. Sometimes, on the contrary, it is convenient for us. Therefore, this rule of good and evil, or natural law, or whatever else we call it, must be some kind of reality, something that objectively exists, independent of us.
However, this rule or law is not an objective fact in the ordinary sense of the word, such as, for example, the fact of our behavior. And this leads us to think about some other reality, that in this particular case, behind the ordinary facts human behavior something quite definite is hidden, reigning over them, a certain law, which none of us composed and which nevertheless affects each of us.
What's behind the law?
Let's summarize what we've found out so far. In the case of stones, trees and similar things, the so-called law of nature is nothing more than a figure of speech. When you say that nature obeys certain laws, you only mean that it behaves or manifests itself in a certain way.
So-called laws cannot be laws in in every sense this word, that is, something standing above the natural phenomena that we observe. But in the case of a person the situation is different. The law of human nature, or the law of good and evil, must be something that stands above the facts of human behavior. And in this case, in addition to the facts, we are dealing with something else - with a law that we did not invent, but which we know we must follow.
Now I want to figure out what this discovery tells us about the Universe in which we live. From the moment people learned to think, they began to think about what the Universe is and how it came about. In very general terms, there are two points of view on this matter. The first is the so-called materialist point of view. People who share it believe that matter and space simply exist, they have always existed and no one knows why; that matter, which behaves in a certain, once and for all established way, accidentally managed to produce creatures like you and me, capable of thinking. For some reason happy occasion, the probability of which is negligible, something hit our sun, and planets separated from it, and due to another similar accident, the probability of which is no higher than the probability of the previous one, on one of these planets arose chemical elements, necessary for life, plus the necessary temperature, and thus some of the matter on this planet came to life, and then, through a long series of accidents, living beings developed into highly organized beings like you and me.
The second point of view is religious. According to it, the source of the origin of the visible Universe should be sought in some kind of mind (rather than in anything else). This mind is conscious, has its own goals, and prioritizes certain things over others. From a religious point of view, it was this mind that created the Universe, partly for some purpose that we do not know about, and partly in order to produce beings like itself, I mean, endowed with reason like itself. Please do not think that one of these points of view existed a long time ago, and the other gradually replaced it. Everywhere you've ever lived thinking people, they both existed. And notice one more thing. You cannot establish which of these two theories is scientifically correct. Science works through experiments. She observes how objects, materials, elements, etc. behave. Any scientific statement, no matter how complex it may seem, ultimately boils down to this: “I pointed my telescope at such and such part of the sky at 2:20 a.m. on January 15th and saw such and such.” Or: “I put a certain amount of this substance in a vessel, heated it to such and such a temperature, and this and that came out.” Don't think that I have anything against science. I'm just explaining how it works. And the more learned a person is, the sooner (I hope) he will agree with me that this is precisely what science consists of, this is precisely its benefit and necessity. But why all these objects that science will study exist at all and whether behind these objects there is something completely different from them is not at all a question of science. If behind all the reality we observe, “something” exists, then it will either remain unknown to people, or will let them know about itself in some special way. Statements that this “something” exists, or, conversely, does not exist, are not within the purview of science. And real scientists usually do not make such statements. More often they are spoken by journalists and authors of popular novels, who have picked up unverified scientific data from textbooks.
Ultimately simple common sense tells us: suppose one day science becomes so perfect that it comprehends every particle of the Universe; Isn’t it clear that the questions “Why does the Universe exist?”, “Why does it behave this way and not otherwise?” and “Is there any meaning to her existence?” then, as now, there will be no answer.
The situation would have been completely hopeless if not for one circumstance. There is one creature in the Universe about which we know more than we could know about it only through observations from the outside. This creature is a man. We don't just observe people, we are people ourselves. In this case, we have so-called inside information. And thanks to this we know that people feel subject to some moral law, which they did not establish, but which they cannot forget, no matter how hard they try, and which they know should be obeyed. Pay attention to this: anyone who would study a person from the outside, as we study electricity or cabbage, without knowing our language and, therefore, without being able to receive from us inside information, - from simple observation of our behavior would never come to the conclusion that we have a moral law. And how could he come to it? After all, his observations would only show him what we do, but the moral law tells him what we should do. In the same way, if something was hidden or behind the facts accessible to our observation in the case of stones or weather, then we, observing them from the outside, could not hope to discover this “something”.
The question thus takes on a different plane. We want to know whether the Universe became what it is by chance, on its own, without any reason, or whether there is some force behind it that makes the Universe exactly the way it is. Since this force, if it exists, cannot be one of the observable facts, but is the reality that creates these facts, mere observation of them will not reveal it. Only one single phenomenon suggests the existence of “something” beyond the observed facts, and that phenomenon is ourselves. Only in our own case do we see that this “something” exists.
Let's look at the situation from the other side. If there were some controlling force outside the Universe, it could not show itself to us as one of internal elements, inherent in the Universe, just as the architect, according to whose design the house was built, could not be a wall, staircase or fireplace in this house. The only thing we could hope for is that this force will manifest itself within us in the form of a certain influence or command, trying to direct our behavior in a certain direction. But this is precisely the influence we find within ourselves. Isn't it true that such a discovery should awaken our suspicions? The only time we could hope to get an answer is when the answer is yes; and in other cases where we don't get an answer, we see why we can't get one.
Suppose someone asked me, “Why, when you see a man in a blue uniform walking down the street and leaving small paper bags at every house, do you assume that these bags contain letters?” I would answer: “Because every time he leaves a paper bag like that for me, I find a letter in it.” And if this person objected: “But you’ve never seen those letters that, in your opinion, other people receive,” to which I would answer: “Of course not, because they are not addressed to me, I can guess the contents of the packages, which I am not allowed to open, similar to that package. which I can open."
The same is true with our question. The only package I'm allowed to open is the person. And when I do this, especially when I open one specific person, whom I call “I,” then I discover that I do not exist on my own, that I am subject to some kind of law; something or someone wants me to behave in a certain way. I certainly don’t think that if I managed to get inside a stone or a tree, I would find exactly the same thing there, just as I don’t think that all the other people on this street receive the same letters as I. I might, for example, hope to discover that a stone must obey the law of gravity. The "letter sender" simply tells me to obey the law of my human nature, while he forces the stone to obey the laws of its nature. But I should have expected that in both cases the “sender of the letters,” the force behind the facts, is at work. The head of life, its leader.
Please don't think that I'm walking faster than I actually am. I have not yet come within a hundred kilometers of God, as Christian theology interprets Him. All that I have expressed so far boils down to this: there is something that governs the Universe and manifests itself in me in the form of a law that motivates me to do good and feel remorse for the evil I have done. I think we should assume that this force is more like mind than anything else, because ultimately the only thing we know besides mind is matter. But one can hardly imagine a piece of matter giving instructions. However, it is unlikely that this force exactly corresponds to intelligence as we understand it; perhaps it corresponds even less to the human personality.
Let's see if we can learn a little more about this power in the next chapter. But one word of caution: in the last century there have been a lot of too free fantasies on the topic of God. I'm definitely not going to suggest something like that to you.
Note. In order to this section I came out quite short and suitable for radio broadcasts, I mentioned only the materialistic and religious points of view. But for the sake of completeness I should mention an intermediate point of view, the so-called "life force" philosophy, or creative evolution. This philosophy is most wittily presented by Bernard Shaw, but it is most deeply illuminated in the works of Bergson. People who adhere to this philosophy believe that minor changes, as a result of which life on our planet evolved from its lower forms to man, were not accidental, but were directed by the “purposeful” force of life.
When people talk about such a force, we have the right to ask them whether this force, in their opinion, has intelligence. If so, then “the mind that gave birth to life and leads it to perfection” is simply God. Thus, this point of view is likened to a religious one.
If they believe that this force is devoid of intelligence, then how can they claim that “something” that does not have intelligence “strives” for something or has some kind of “goal”? Isn't this logic fatal to their point of view? The idea of creative evolution attracts many people because it does not take away the pleasure of believing in God, but at the same time frees a person from the not very pleasant consequences arising from His existence. When you are in excellent health and the sun is shining, and you don't want to think that the whole Universe is just a mechanical dance of atoms, it is pleasant to think about the great mysterious force that flows through the centuries, carrying you with it. If, on the other hand, you want to do something dishonorable, then the power of life, being blind, devoid of reason and moral concepts, will not interfere with your intentions, just as that annoying god interferes, about whom we were told in childhood. The force of life is a kind of tame, tamed god.
You can tune in to his wave when you have a desire, but he himself will not disturb you. In a word, all the pleasures of religion remain with you, but you don’t have to pay for anything. Indeed, this theory is greatest achievement our tendency to wishful thinking!
We have cause for concern
I finished last chapter the thought that, with the help of the moral law, someone or something outside the material Universe is attacking us. And I suspect that when I got to this point, some of you felt a certain amount of unease. You might even think that I played a cruel joke on you, that I carefully disguised religious “moral teaching” to make it look like philosophy. Perhaps you were ready to listen to me as long as you thought I was going to say something new; but if this “new” turns out to be simply a religion, well, the world has already tried it, and you cannot turn back the clock. If any of you are feeling this way, I would like to say three things to that person.
The first is regarding turning back time. Would you think I was joking if I said that we should move the hands of the clock? After all, when the clock goes wrong, such a measure is often reasonable. But let's leave the example with a clock and hands. We all strive for progress. However, progress means getting closer to the place, to the point that you want to achieve. And if we have turned in the wrong direction, then moving forward will not bring us closer to the goal. Progress in this case would be to turn 180 degrees and return to the right road; and the most progressive person will be the one who is most likely to turn back. We could all see this when we did arithmetic. If I did the addition wrong to begin with, the sooner I admit it and go back and start over, the sooner I will find the correct answer. There is nothing progressive in the donkey’s stubbornness, in the refusal to admit his mistake.
If you think about the current state of the world, it becomes very clear to you that humanity is making a great mistake. We are all on the wrong path. And if this is so, then we all need to go back. Going back is the fastest way forward.
Second: note that my reasoning is not yet a completely religious “moral teaching.” We are still far from the God of any particular religion, especially from the God of the Christian religion. We have only approached someone or something that is behind the moral law. We do not yet resort to either the Bible or what is said in the Church; we are trying to understand if we can find out anything about this mysterious “Someone” with our on our own. And here I want to say with all sincerity: what we discover affects us like a shock. Two facts indicate this “Someone”.
The first is the Universe created by Him. If the Universe were the only evidence about Him, then from observing it we would have to conclude that He, this mysterious “Someone”, is a great artist (because the Universe is truly beautiful). But at the same time, we would be forced to admit that He is merciless and hostile to people (because the Universe is very dangerous place, inspiring genuine horror).
The second fact that points to His existence is the moral law that He has implanted in our minds. And this second evidence is more valuable than the first, because it gives us information internal character. You learn more about God from the moral law than from observing the universe, just as you learn more about a man by listening to how and what he says than by contemplating the house he has built.
Based on this second fact, we conclude that the Being behind the visible Universe is passionately interested in the correct behavior of people, in their “fair play,” in their unselfishness, courage, sincere faith, honesty and truthfulness. In light of this, we have to agree with the claim of Christianity and some other religions that God is good. But let's not rush. The moral law does not give us any reason to believe that God is good in the sense that He is lenient, gentle, benevolent.
There is no sense of leniency in the moral law. He's hard as a diamond. He orders people to follow straight paths and does not seem to care at all how painful, dangerous or difficult it is to follow this order. If God is the same as this moral law, then He is hardly gentle.
At this stage, it makes no sense for us to say that by a “good” God we mean a God who is able to forgive. After all, only an individual is capable of forgiveness. But we still have no right to assert that God is a person. So far we have come to the conclusion that the force behind the moral law is more like reason than anything else. But this does not mean that this force must be a personality. If it is simply an impersonal, unfeeling mind, then there is probably no point in asking it for help or an indulgence, just as there would be no point in asking the multiplication table to forgive you for getting the score wrong. In this case, you cannot avoid giving the wrong answer. And it is useless to say that if God is like this, if He is impersonal absolute good, then you don’t like Him and you are not going to pay attention to Him. It is useless because one part of you stands on the side of this God and sincerely agrees with His condemnation human cruelty, greed, dishonesty and self-interest. You might wish He would be more lenient this time. But deep down you know that unless the power behind the universe unconditionally denounces misbehavior, it will cease to be good. On the other hand, we know that if absolute good exists, it must hate most of what we do to you.
That's how terrible it is hopeless situation we find ourselves with you. If the Universe is not ruled by absolute goodness, then all our efforts are ultimately in vain. If absolute goodness still rules the Universe, then we daily challenge it with hostility, and it is unlikely that tomorrow we will become any better than today. Thus, in this case too our situation is hopeless. We cannot live without this goodness, and we cannot live in harmony with it.
God is our only consolation, and nothing causes us greater horror than Him: we need Him most of all and from Him we most want to hide. He is our only possible ally, and we have made ourselves His enemies. To hear some people say, meeting face to face with absolute goodness is a pleasure. They should think carefully; they are still playing at religion. Transmundane kindness brings with it either great relief or great danger, depending on how you respond to it. And you and I are answering incorrectly.
Now I come to the third point. In taking this circuitous route to approach a subject that really interests me, I did not want to play a trick on you. I chose it for this reason: any conversation about Christianity is meaningless for people who have not first become acquainted with the facts that I described above. Christianity calls people to repent in order to receive forgiveness. He has nothing (as far as I know) to say to those people who do not know anything about themselves that should be repented of, and who do not feel that they need forgiveness. Only after you realize that the moral law really exists, as well as the power behind it, and that you have violated this law and behaved unfaithfully in relation to this power, only then, and not a second sooner, will Christianity begin to gain makes sense to you.
When you know you are sick, you follow the doctor's advice. When you realize the hopelessness of your situation, you will begin to understand what Christians are talking about, because they offer an explanation of our circumstances: how it is that we both hate goodness and love it. They offer an explanation of how God can be the impersonal intelligence behind the moral law and at the same time a Person. They tell you how the demands of the law, which were impossible for us to fulfill, were fulfilled for us, how God Himself became man in order to save man from God’s condemnation. This old story, and if you wish to go deeper into it, you will undoubtedly turn to those who are more competent than me. All I ask of you is to face the facts in order to understand the questions to which Christianity offers answers. And these are frightening facts. I wish I could say something more rosier; but I must say what I think is true. I, of course, completely agree that christian religion, ultimately, is a source of unspeakable comfort. But it does not begin with consolation. It begins with the anxiety and confusion that I described above, and there would be no point in trying to reach this consolation without going through the anxiety stage. In religion - as in war, as in other situations: peace (consolation) cannot be found if you look only for it. Now, if you seek the truth, you may eventually find peace; and if all your searches are aimed at peace, you will not find it or the truth. All you will find are empty words and thoughts that will seem true to you at the beginning of the path, but at the end of it hopeless despair awaits you. For the most part, we have recovered from the pre-war rosy dreams of a coordinated international policy. The time has come to heal from them in religion too.
Clive Staples Lewis
Just Christianity
PREFACE
The contents of this book were the subject of a series of radio broadcasts and were subsequently published in three separate parts entitled Radio Conversations (1942), Christian Conduct (1943), and Beyond Personality (1944). In the printed version, I made a few additions to what I said into the microphone, but otherwise left the text unchanged. A conversation on the radio should not, in my opinion, sound like a literary essay read aloud, it should be precisely a conversation filled with sincerity. Therefore, in my conversations I used all the abbreviations and colloquial expressions that I usually use in conversation. I have reproduced these abbreviations and colloquialisms in the printed version. And all those places where in a conversation on the radio I emphasized the importance of a particular word in the tone of my voice, in the printed version I highlighted it in italics. Now I am inclined to believe that this was a mistake on my part - an undesirable hybrid of the art of speaking with the art of writing. A storyteller should use the tones of his voice to underline and emphasize certain points because the genre of conversation itself requires this, but a writer should not use italics for the same purposes. He has other means of his own and must use these means in order to highlight the keywords.
In this edition I have eliminated abbreviations and replaced all italics, reworking those sentences in which these italics were found, without, I hope, damaging the “familiar” and simple tone that was characteristic of radio conversations. Here and there I made additions or deleted certain places; At the same time, I proceeded from the fact that the original version, as I found out, was misunderstood by others, and I myself, in my opinion, began to understand the subject of the conversation better now than I understood ten years ago.
I would like to warn readers that I do not offer any help to those who are wavering between two Christian “denominations.” You will not get any advice from me as to what you should become: an Anglican or a Methodist, a Presbyterian or a Roman Catholic. I omitted this question deliberately (even I gave the above list simply in alphabetical order). I make no secret of my own position. I'm a perfectly ordinary member of the Church of England, not too 'high', not too 'short', not too much of anything at all. But in this book I make no attempt to win anyone over to my position.
From the very moment I became a Christian, I have always believed that the best and perhaps the only service I could render to my unbelieving neighbors was to explain and defend the faith which has been common and united to almost all Christians throughout the ages. of all times. I have enough reasons for this point of view.
First of all, the issues that divide Christians (into different denominations) often concern individual issues of high theology or even church history, and these issues should be left to specialists, professionals. I would drown in such depths and would rather need help myself than be able to give it to others.
Secondly, I think we must recognize that discussions on these controversial issues are unlikely to attract an outsider into the Christian family. By discussing them in writing and orally, we are more likely to scare him away from the Christian community than to attract him to us. Our differences of opinion should only be discussed in the presence of those who have already come to believe that there is one God and that Jesus Christ is His only Son.
Finally, I have the impression that many more talented writers were involved in discussing these controversial issues than in defending the essence of Christianity, or “mere” Christianity, as Baxter calls it. The area in which I believed I could serve most successfully was the one in which such service was most in need. Naturally, that’s where I headed.
As far as I remember, this was all my motives and motivations amounted to, and I would be very glad if people did not draw far-reaching conclusions from my silence on certain controversial issues.
For example, such silence does not necessarily mean that I am taking a wait-and-see attitude. Although sometimes this is true. Christians sometimes have questions to which I don’t think we have answers. There are also some that I will most likely never get an answer to: even if I ask them in a better world, then. perhaps (as far as I know) I will receive the same answer as another, much greater questioner has already received: “What is that to you? Follow me!" However, there are other issues on which I take a very definite position, but on these issues I remain silent. Because I write not with the purpose of expounding something that I could call “my religion,” but in order to explain the essence of Christianity, which is what it is, has been so long before I was born and does not depend on whether I like it or not. Is it for me or not?
Some people draw unfounded conclusions from the fact that I speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary only in relation to the Immaculate Conception and the birth of Christ. But the reason for this is obvious. If I had said a little more, it would have immediately led me into the realm of extremely controversial points of view. Meanwhile, no other controversial issue in Christianity needs such a delicate approach as this one. The Roman Catholic Church defends its ideas on this subject not only with the usual ardor characteristic of all sincere religious beliefs, but (quite naturally) all the more ardently because it shows the chivalrous sensitivity with which a man defends the honor of his mother or beloved from the danger that threatens her . It is very difficult to disagree with them in these views just enough so as not to seem to them ignorant, or even a heretic. Conversely, the opposing beliefs of Protestants on this issue are caused by feelings that go back to the very foundations of monotheism. To radical Protestants, it seems that the very distinction between Creator and creation (no matter how holy) is threatened; that polytheism is thus being revived again. However, it is very difficult to disagree with them just enough so as not to appear in their eyes as something worse than a heretic, namely a pagan. If there is a topic that can ruin a book about the essence of Christianity, if any topic can result in absolutely useless reading for those who have not yet believed that the Son of the Virgin is God, then this is precisely this topic.
Clive Staples Lewis
Just Christianity
PREFACE
The contents of this book were the subject of a series of radio broadcasts and were subsequently published in three separate parts entitled Radio Conversations (1942), Christian Conduct (1943), and Beyond Personality (1944). In the printed version, I made a few additions to what I said into the microphone, but otherwise left the text unchanged. A conversation on the radio should not, in my opinion, sound like a literary essay read aloud, it should be precisely a conversation filled with sincerity. Therefore, in my conversations I used all the abbreviations and colloquial expressions that I usually use in conversation. I have reproduced these abbreviations and colloquialisms in the printed version. And all those places where in a conversation on the radio I emphasized the importance of a particular word in the tone of my voice, in the printed version I highlighted it in italics. Now I am inclined to believe that this was a mistake on my part - an undesirable hybrid of the art of speaking with the art of writing. A storyteller should use the tones of his voice to underline and emphasize certain points because the genre of conversation itself requires this, but a writer should not use italics for the same purposes. He has other means of his own and must use these means in order to highlight the keywords.
In this edition I have eliminated abbreviations and replaced all italics, reworking those sentences in which these italics were found, without, I hope, damaging the “familiar” and simple tone that was characteristic of radio conversations. Here and there I made additions or deleted certain places; At the same time, I proceeded from the fact that the original version, as I found out, was misunderstood by others, and I myself, in my opinion, began to understand the subject of the conversation better now than I understood ten years ago.
I would like to warn readers that I do not offer any help to those who are wavering between two Christian “denominations.” You will not get any advice from me as to what you should become: an Anglican or a Methodist, a Presbyterian or a Roman Catholic. I omitted this question deliberately (even I gave the above list simply in alphabetical order). I make no secret of my own position. I'm a perfectly ordinary member of the Church of England, not too 'high', not too 'short', not too much of anything at all. But in this book I make no attempt to win anyone over to my position.
From the very moment I became a Christian, I have always believed that the best and perhaps the only service I could render to my unbelieving neighbors was to explain and defend the faith which has been common and united to almost all Christians throughout the ages. of all times. I have enough reasons for this point of view.
First of all, the issues that divide Christians (into different denominations) often concern individual issues of high theology or even church history, and these issues should be left to specialists, professionals. I would drown in such depths and would rather need help myself than be able to give it to others.
Secondly, I think we must recognize that discussions on these controversial issues are unlikely to attract an outsider into the Christian family. By discussing them in writing and orally, we are more likely to scare him away from the Christian community than to attract him to us. Our differences of opinion should only be discussed in the presence of those who have already come to believe that there is one God and that Jesus Christ is His only Son.
Finally, I have the impression that many more talented writers were involved in discussing these controversial issues than in defending the essence of Christianity, or “mere” Christianity, as Baxter calls it. The area in which I believed I could serve most successfully was the one in which such service was most in need. Naturally, that’s where I headed.
As far as I remember, this was all my motives and motivations amounted to, and I would be very glad if people did not draw far-reaching conclusions from my silence on certain controversial issues.
For example, such silence does not necessarily mean that I am taking a wait-and-see attitude. Although sometimes this is true. Christians sometimes have questions to which I don’t think we have answers. There are also those to which I will most likely never receive an answer: even if I asked them in a better world, then perhaps (as far as I know) I will receive the same answer as another, much greater questioner has already received once: “ What do you care about this? Follow me!" However, there are other issues on which I take a very definite position, but on these issues I remain silent. Because I write not with the purpose of expounding something that I could call “my religion,” but in order to explain the essence of Christianity, which is what it is, has been so long before I was born and does not depend on whether I like it or not. Is it for me or not?
Some people draw unfounded conclusions from the fact that I speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary only in relation to the Immaculate Conception and the birth of Christ. But the reason for this is obvious. If I said a little more, it would immediately lead me into the realm of extremely controversial points of view. Meanwhile, no other controversial issue in Christianity requires such a delicate approach as this one. The Roman Catholic Church defends its ideas on this subject not only with the usual ardor characteristic of all sincere religious beliefs, but (quite naturally) all the more ardently because it shows the chivalrous sensitivity with which a man defends the honor of his mother or beloved from the danger that threatens her . It is very difficult to disagree with them in these views just enough so as not to seem to them ignorant, or even a heretic. Conversely, the opposing beliefs of Protestants on this issue are caused by feelings that go back to the very foundations of monotheism. To radical Protestants, it seems that the very distinction between Creator and creation (no matter how holy) is threatened; that polytheism is thus being revived again. However, it is very difficult to disagree with them just enough so as not to appear in their eyes as something worse than a heretic, namely a pagan. If there is a topic that can ruin a book about the essence of Christianity, if any topic can result in absolutely useless reading for those who have not yet believed that the Son of the Virgin is God, then this is precisely this topic.
A strange situation arises: from my silence on these issues you cannot even conclude whether I consider them important or not. The fact is that the very question of their significance is also controversial. One of the areas on which Christians disagree is whether their differences are important. When two Christians from different denominations begin to argue, it is not long before one of them asks whether this question; to which the other replies: “Is it important? Well, of course, it has the most significant meaning!”
All this was said only to explain what kind of book I was trying to write, and not at all in order to hide my beliefs or avoid responsibility for them. As I said, I don't keep them secret. In the words of Uncle Toby: “They are written in the prayer book.”
The danger was that, under the guise of Christianity as such, I might present something that was unique to the Church of England or (even worse) to myself. To avoid this, I sent the original draft of what became book two here to four different clergy (Church of England, Methodist, Presbyterian and Roman Catholic),