Since my son is still napping, I thought I’d just continue and move on to Lewis’ next chapter in Mere Christianity: “Nice People or New Men.” In this chapter, Lewis touches upon a very common complaint often levied against Christians. It goes something like this: If Christianity is so great, then how come so many Christians are such jerks? If Christianity was true, then why aren’t all Christians nicer than all non-Christians?
Fair enough…Lewis admits that if Christianity doesn’t ultimately improve one’s behavior, than it’s very likely that that person’s “conversion” was largely imaginary. That being said, though, Lewis says that we are mistaken if we think that Christianity is simply about good behavior. It is ultimately about, as Lewis has been arguing, transformation into entirely new creatures…and that transformation takes time. It’s a process. The issue, when it comes to behavior, isn’t whether or not “all Christians” are nicer than “all non-Christians.” The issue is, given whatever personality or temperament a person is born with, whether or not he/she improves.
It is at this point that Lewis makes an observation that has had a tremendous influence on me in regards to how I understand people in general. Lewis points out:
[The world] “does not consist of 100% Christians and 100% non-Christians. There are people who are slowly ceasing to be Christians but who still call themselves by that name: some of them are clergymen. There are other people who are slowly becoming Christians though they do not yet call themselves so. There are people who do not accept the full Christian doctrine about Christ but who are so strongly attracted by Him that they are His in a much deeper sense than they themselves understand. There are people in other religions who are being led by God’s secret influence to concentrate on those parts of their religion which are in agreement with Christianity, and who thus belong to Christ without knowing it.”
Yes, that quote has so many things in it that your head might be spinning right now. I think it is quite profound…and utterly true. Lewis point is really simple: each one of us, with every choice we make in our lives, are slowly either becoming more or less Christ-like. You might have been saved when you were 18, but that doesn’t mean that you are completely Christ-like yet—we all know this. In fact, we fully understand that as we live our lives and follow Christ that we are (hopefully) more Christ-like at 45 than we were at 20. As Lewis has been saying all along, salvation, as it works out in the history of our lives, is a process.
And yes, that even extends to people in other religions. When I was in college I read quite a lot about Gandhi. He called himself a Hindu, but it was quite clear that the most influential person in his life was Jesus Christ. He read the Gospels fervently and tried to pattern his life after Christ. He didn’t call himself a Christian because the “Christianity” he had experienced was a very imperialistic and racist corruption of it coming from the British Empire. I think Lewis would say that Gandhi was Christ’s in a way that Gandhi himself didn’t fully understand. But that is only an example, and pure speculation on my part.
But getting back to the topic of the Christian life, Lewis’ point is very important. So why are some Christians not as nice as some non-Christians? That should be obvious: what often is it that pushes people to put their faith in Christ? Often times it is that some people are really bad and really messed up—and they know it. Not only that, but they know they are helpless—that is why they turn to Christ. So quite obviously, when a person like that first becomes a Christian, he’s not going to change overnight—he still has a lot of junk to work through. And salvation in the history of our lives takes time. It’s a process.
By contrast, there are some people who’ve had an easy time in life, who have it “all together.” Lewis points out that often times these sorts of people think their good personality and even-temper is all due to themselves, not realizing that if they had grown up in the inner city where drugs and violence were prevalent, chances are they wouldn’t be such a nice person. I’ll admit it, I’m a pretty nice guy overall. Why? Because I grew up in a loving, stable home. Sure, I made some smart choices in my life, but the “raw material” I was given by my parents was pretty good—and I was just fortunate. Therefore, me being a generally nice guy really isn’t something I could take pride in—I didn’t achieve it; that “niceness” was pretty much given to me.
The fact is, I know my temperament. I know how easily frustrated I can become. If I had been raised in a less than ideal situation, those shortcomings I have would have no doubt been amplified, and would no doubt have made me a much meaner person. And that’s the point Lewis is making. Why are not all Christians nicer than non-Christians? The answer is simple: (A) many Christians become Christians because they know they’re not good people; and (B) regardless of where one is in temperament, salvation and transformation take time.
The rest of the chapter, Lewis gives an extended example of all this with two fictitious people: Miss Bates—a Christian, but who has serious issues; and Dick Firkin—a very nice non-Christian. His point with both types of people can be summed up in the following two quotes:
Concerning Dick: “A certain level of good conduct comes fairly easy to you. You are not one of those wretched creatures who are always being tripped up by sex, or nervousness, or bad temper. Everyone says you are a nice chap and you agree with them. You are quite likely to believe that all this niceness is your own doing: and you may easily not feel the need for any better kind of goodness.” –and therefore, why drag God into it?
Now, although I’m a Christian, I can identify with that mentality. One of the things I’ll willingly admit, now that I’ve gone through a painful divorce—I’m not as nice and self-controlled as I thought I was. After having gone through that pain, I find myself swearing a little (well, a lot) more than I’m proud of. Put me through the wringer a bit, and I become painfully aware how easily my niceness can evaporate when things get tough.
Concerning Miss Bates: “It is very different for the nasty people—the little, low, timid, warped, thin-blooded, lonely people, or the passionate, sensual, unbalanced people. If they make any attempt at goodness at all, they learn in double quick time, that they need help. It is Christ or nothing for them. It is taking up the cross and following—or else despair.”
I’ve become convinced that even for the “nice people,” it is inevitable to come to a point of that kind of despair. It takes something to bring you to the point where you truly realize that you are ultimately helpless. Whatever it is you are capable of dealing with, there will come a time when the burden become too much for you to bear alone.
In any case, it’s something to think about. I’ll just leave it at that.
