a young reformed blog designed to edify

In this series, we will spend some time looking at C.S. Lewis, that great philosopher and moral and intellectual apologist for the faith, and his, arguably, most famous sermon, “The Weight of Glory.” Christians oftentimes ask if we should necessarily study those things that are inherently esoteric in nature (i.e., philosophy, psychology, politics, literature, etc.), and my answer would be a resounding yes. Matthew 22:37 reminds us that we must love the Lord our God with “all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (ESV); Proverbs 9:9 says clearly that a righteous man “will increase in learning.” To disparage one function of faith—that is, knowledge—is to naturally undermine another. Likewise, we must remember the rebuke of Paul in 1 Corinthians 1:23-29 that the “foolishness of God is wiser than man.” However, to forego an activity at all times that may be abused sometimes is not a sound—nor truly biblical—argument.

So, why “The Weight of Glory”? Well, as I may attest to my own personal predilection toward Jack, as he wished to be called, he seems, to me and most other church leaders of today, a soundly authoritative Christian on matters philosophical, logical, and beneficial for the Church. As his friend and fellow Oxford scholar Walter Hooper attests, “He was a man […] of common instincts combined with very uncommon abilities” (Lewis 9). Few men, pagan or no, can justly perorate of their own genius as honestly as Lewis might have done, but, as any Christian ought be, he was a man of deep humility and contrite servitude to the Father.

So, let us begin an exegesis (from the Greek, meaning a critical interpretation of a text) of Lewis’s most famous sermon, given on June 8, 1941 in the Oxford University Church of St. Mary the Virgin. [Note: all quotations are specifically lifted from HarperCollins’s 2001 edition of The Weight of Glory with supplemented page numbers in MLA style, with emphasis as my own.] It is in the hopes that, through reading this, you may more critically examine the great sermons of our intellectual church fathers and, in turn, have a growing hunger for the meat of the Word, the true bread which sustains us daily on our marathon (1 Corinthians 9:24-27) toward the Father. Thus:

Intellectual fists swinging, Lewis opens his peroration that, while today many Christians would count “Unselfishness” as a supreme Christian virtue, the old church fathers would posit that “Love” be the greatest (25). Why? Because “[t]he New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self-denial as an end in itself,” which, in essence, is exactly what the “virtue” of Unselfishness supports. It necessarily holds a negative connotation of abstinence versus the active work of love. John Piper used this text—along with many others—to powerfully propose his Christian Hedonism, that is, the belief that we, as believers, have the chief command to glorify God by enjoying Him forever, to make a slight alteration to the Westminster Catechism.

Interestingly, Lewis points out—to further advocate Piper’s theology—that “nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we [take up our cross and follow Christ] contains an appeal to desire” (26). From this, Lewis hypothesizes that “the proper rewards are not simply tacked on to [the pursuit of joy] […] but are the activity itself in consummation” (27) since it is sinful to seek out a reward that has no connection through the means in seeking it. Marriage is the proper reward of love as victory is a just reward for a truculent general; however, you become mercenary if you seek, say, money or fame in the process instead.

Further, Lewis gives us the example of a student learning Greek through the temporary drudgery of grammar and the like who, as time passes, gradually gains enjoyment through desiring learning the task for its own sake until, years later, the now superannuated student enjoys Greek poetry, all stemming from the original rotes of learning. We, as Americans, have similar aptitudes: we say, “No pain, no gain; success takes work,” among other anecdotal highlights. We, as the most work-intensive culture on the planet, understand well that the ennui that results from daily work will eventually yield a crop of success down through the seasons. Unfortunately, this patient approach to work is quickly dwindling in successive generations, and—to slip in a slight exhortation—it is our duty to lovingly and wisely help lead the younger believers in a God-honoring aptitude for hard, yet rewarding, labor.

Therefore, the Christian is much of the same in regards to Heaven and eternal reward; indeed, only those in Heaven understand that everlasting life is “the very consummation of their earthly discipleship” (28), or, to speak less eruditely, that obedience to our Lord’s commands is a process, a continual refining fire that will not cease until the Day of Judgment when, standing before God, we are deemed worthy of entrance to Paradise only because we trusted Christ alone and not our own understanding. But more on this magnificent truth in later posts.

While we are yet on earth living out sanctification, we cannot yet empirically know the above truth, and yet we find “the first reward of our obedience in our increasing power to desire the ultimate reward” (28), which is, ultimately, unmitigated communion with God for everlasting eternity.

~restlessisourheart