meretal

the great divorce | musing

In musing on 25 April 2011 at 10:01 am

Moments from The Great Divorce:

The greyness outside the windows turned from mud-colour to mother of pearl, then to faintest blue, then to a bright blueness that stung the eyes. We seemed to be floating in pure vacancy.

They were all fixed faces, not full of possibilities but impossibilities.

I had got ‘out’ in some sense which made the Solar System itself seem an indoor affair.

One gets glimpses, even in our country, of that which is ageless–heavy thought in the face of an infant, and frolic childhood in that of a very old man. Here it was all like that.

But honest opinions fearlessly followed–they are not sins.

Our opinions were not honestly come by. We simply found ourselves in contact with a certain current of ideas and
plunged into it
because it seemed modern and successful.

Of course. Having allowed oneself to drift, unresisting, unpraying, accepting every half-conscious solicitaion from our desires, we reached a point where we no longer believed in the Faith. Just in the same way, a jealous man, drifting and unresisting, reaches a point at which he believes lies against his best friend: a drunkard reaches a point at which (for the moment) he actually believes that another glass will do him no harm. The beliefs are sincere in the sense that they do occur as psychiological events in the man’s mind. If that’s what you mean by sincerity they are sincere, and so were ours. But errors which are sincere in that sense are not innocent.Everyone who wishes it does. Never fear. There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says in the end, ‘Thy will be done.’

Light was your first love: you loved paint only as a means of telling about light.

Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from the love of the thing he tells, to the love of telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him.

(C.S. Lewis, 1946)

C.S. Lewis has a way of reaching with the most poignant, alluring sensibility, snapping you back in reality and making you realize
exactly
where
you
stand.
Even fifty+ years later.

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