The best argument for Christianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness. But the strongest argument against Christianity is also Christians–when they are sombre and joyless, when they are self-righteous and smug in complacent consecration, when they are narrow and repressive, then Christianity dies a thousand deaths. But, though it is just to condemn some Christians for these things, perhaps, after all, it is not just, though very easy, to condemn Christianity itself for them. Indeed, there are impressive indications that the positive quality of joy is in Christianity–and possibly nowhere else. If that were certain, it would be proof of a very high order.
― Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy
At the beginning of the month, I wrapped up my summer book club with some friends from my church. We read A Severe Mercy together and discussed on a rainy Monday night a few weeks ago.
I gave a chance for people to read or highlight quotes that stuck out to them, and the one above was mentioned a few times. Indeed, this is a difficult truth: when Christians are complete and joyful, they are the best argument for their religion; when they are “self-righteous and smug,” they are the worst.
Vanauken and his wife, Davy, had the blessed fortune to encounter a circle of Christians at Oxford who were the former; they were joyful and certain. They were patient with Van and Davy as they explored questions about Christianity; they did not press too hard, even as they argued compellingly for their faith. Their lives and the stories in them convinced the young couple that there was something more to this faith.
If the Vanaukens had instead encountered believers who wanted to immediately press, or who wanted to draw further distinctions between themselves, or who were unnecessarily harsh, they would not have been compelled to explore the Christian faith any further. Instead, they were invited in, comfortable in expressing doubts and questions. Upon being invited, they were compelled.
Other observations made that night were confessions that this book is not a usual genre for some women, but they found it very affecting. The second half of the book includes letters to and from C. S. Lewis as Van works through issues with his faith and his wife’s mortality.
What struck one reader was Lewis’s use of illustrations—she found his teaching so easy to understand (even the sticky stuff) because he explains so clearly. The man was a master of metaphor and explanation. Though many think him hard to understand, in reality, he is a brilliant teacher if you give him time to paint a picture for you.

I am always left with the final picture of Lewis given to us by Vanauken: on the afternoon that they last shared a pint in a pub, they bid each other goodbye on the sidewalk, except—not quite. Lewis said that he wouldn’t say goodbye, as he was convinced that he and Van would see each other again.
Then he crossed the busy street, pausing on the other side, and yelled jovially over the traffic, “After all! Christians never say goodbye!”

Leave a comment