How C.S. Lewis Would Respond to the SCOTUS Ruling

If you happened to turn on your television today, you could not avoid the onslaught of media coverage that now (unfortunately) defines American politics.  At lunch, I overheard a man muttering on about communism, while the media channels featured an inventory of political analysts who wasted no time appearing on various shows spouting diatribes about the ruin or resuscitation of our country.  I am, by no means, attempting to place a prominent religious figure in this prayground brawl, but wish to illustrate the preceptiveness of C.S. Lewis’s remarks, showing how the issues he highlighted are as relevant today (if not moreso) than in his time.

Some of you will probably think this title quite presumptuous.  In all honesty, I would also.  I, along with the next Lewis fan, shudder to associate Lewis with any political agenda.  In fact, Lewis himself was cautious in even creating the illusion of these associations during his lifetime.  For example, his polite refusal to accept the Commissioner of the British Empire award was not simply out of modesty, but rather a desire to disassociate himself with the conservative party.  In his response to Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Lewis writes,

 I feel greatly obliged to the Prime Minister, and so far as my personal feelings are concerned this honour would be highly agreeable.  There are always however knaves who say, and fools who believe, that my religious writings are all covert anti-Leftist propaganda, and my apprearance in the Honors List would of course strengthen their hands.  It is therefore better than I should not appear there… (4 Dec. 1951).

Lewis understood the burden of social expectations. More importantly for this post, this excerpt illustrates that Lewis was acutely aware of the political minefield and how actions can be misinterpreted as subtle endorsement for political agendas.

The Necessity of Government

Lewis was not a utopian. He understood the purpose of governing bodies.   He stressed the necessity of governments in establishing order, for punishing criminals and maintaining a semblance of peace.  Ultimately, man’s rule cannot usurp God’s rule, nor can man rule like God because God is the perfect head of the body (see I Corinthians 12 concerning the democracy of the Body of Christ). Lewis never considered himself a political expert.  In his essay “Equality,” Lewis writes, “I don’t deserve a share in governing a hen-roost, much less a nation.  Nor do most people – all the people who believe advertisements, and think in catchwords and spread rumors.  The real reason for democracy is just the reverse.  Mankind is so fallen that no man can be trusted with unchecked power over his fellows” (17).

Lewis wisely did not outright criticize his government, nor the governments of other countries (with one particular exception for the Nazi government, but this is well-justified).  Government is a necessary component of modern culture, but as my dissertation on Lewis’s leadership explored, Lewis exposed some of the common errors of governments, as well as the tempting mistress Power and her problematic offspring Pride (which Lewis examines more thoroughly in works like Mere Christianity).

The Welfare State

Lewis was rather forthcoming with his opinions on the role of government as “mothering” the people, although he was sure to camoflage it in fictional works such as The Chronicles of Narnia, The Screwtape Letters and That Hideous Strength.  Most of his opinions are buried deeply and subtley in his Collected Letters.  The government’s  role as “parent” reduces men to wards while convincing him that simplicity prevents a full understanding of complex legislation.  Of course, this provides the so-called government an opportunity to run amok while the people shrug their shoulders in apathy and ignorance. In a letter to Vera Gebbert dated 28 July 1952, Lewis refers to the Welfare State as “The Farewell State” as it disposes of individual independence.

Perhaps in no other text is this perspective more evident than in the essay “Willing Slaves of the Welfare State” (which I will be discussing in a forthcoming Essay Chat on the All About Jack podcast). This essay can be found in the collection God in the Dock.  Lewis was asked to answer two questions: 1) Is man progressing today? and 2) Is progress even possible?  Here Lewis detects an altered relationship between “Government and subjects.”  We are conditioned to obey our government (he calls us “tamed animals”), but never to question it, which ultimately creates children out of citizens.  True happiness is a luxury of independence:

I believe a man is happier, and happy in a richer way, if he has ‘the freeborn mind’.  But I doubt whether he can have this without economic independence, which the new society is abolishing.  For economic independence allows an education not controlled by Government; and in adult life it is the man who needs, and asks, nothing of Government who can criticise its acts and snap his fingers at its ideology…Who will talk like that when the State is everyone’s schoolmaster and employer?  (514)

However, Lewis highlights the fact that a Welfare State can certainly provide for those who are in need (as the Bible commands us), although this often comes at the expense of freedoms:

In every age those who wish to be our masters, if they have any sense, secure our obedience by offereing deliverance from our dominant fear.  When we fear wizards the Medicine Man can rule the whole tribe.  When we fear a stronger tribe our best warrior becomes King.  When all the world fears Hell the Church becomes theocracy. ‘Give up your freedom and I will make you safe’ is, age after age, the terrible offer.  In England the omnipotent Welfare State has triumphanted because it promised to free us from the fear of poverty.  Mind you, the bargain is sometimes, for a while, kept.  A warrior king may really save a tribe from extinction: the Welfare State, at a cost, has come nearer than any society ever did before to giving every man a square meal and a good house to eat it in….But we cannot trust these New Masters any more than their predecessors.  Do you see any solution?  (9 Dec 1959)

Lewis publically lauded Orwell’s politcal allegory Animal Farm. Power in the hands of fallen men is chaos. “Fallen,” mind you, is a term for our propensity for sin, not a particular political persuasion.  History proves men’s fallacy time and time again.  The goverment can alleviate, but never eradicate all issues, be they novel or perennial.  In fact, a government can often create issues itself.  Must we seek dependency from our government like we do our God?  Are we too content with the breastmilk of Lady Liberty to ask for solid food (“Lady Liberty” is quite an ironic title for a State which requires utmost loyalty and dependency)?

So we return to the current legislation.  Lewis himself benefitted from English healthcare, so by his own admission he cannot criticize a system from which he (and his family including his ailing wife Joy) received so much assistance.  The deeper question is, “How much is too much?”  What amount of governmental intercession is too intrusive?  How much is adequate?  Such a determination is perhaps subjective.  Most would agree that the government should help those who truly require assistance, but even Lewis dares to inquire, “Is there any possibility of getting the super Welfare State’s honey and avoiding the sting?” (515).

If you read this blog seeking ammunition or approbation, my apologies in delivering disappointment. Lewis only expressed his discontent on policies which he felt were outrageously amoral,  unethical, or unBiblical. I acknowledge that the issues concerning today’s ruling in conjunction with abortion and birth control would certainly fall in these categories for many religious voters, but the rest is yet to be seen.  Ultimately, the ruling is left to stir discussion, to keep friends and opponents locked in endless debate.  Lewis’s best advice, as he states to Mary Willis Shelburne on 20 October 1957, is to keep moving forward with prayerful consideration:

The great thing, as you have obviously seen…is to live from day to day and hour to hour not adding the past or future to the present.  As one lived in the Front Line ‘They’re not shelling us at the  moment, and it’s not raining, and the rations have come up, so let’s enjoy ourselves.’ In fact, as Our Lord said, “Sufficient unto the day’. 

Praying for our leaders, instead of grumbling, is our first job as citizens.  Lewis admits in a letter he prayed often for his leaders, even leaders of enemy camps such as Hitler and Mussolini.  Complaining is far easier, but far less effective.  American politics is one of great dramatic twists and turns, more of what appears to be playacting than policymaking.  But let us not confuse reality for a pantomine.  Policies made today affect our lives and the lives of our children.  Perhaps we will always make a pageantry of our politics, but let us never forget the significance of their impact.

In America, we enjoy the consititutional freedoms of stating our opinions.  We may always disagree on various policies, but we must never let the disagreement injure the tapestry which characterizes our nation.   Perhaps our desire to state our case, no matter the reception, is something which ironically unites us as a nation.  Sometimes we actually encourage the drama further, as an audience member yells from his seat to the actors onstage.

To conclude, we share a chuckle and enjoy some comic relief over Lewis’s observation of American government, an excerpt from the aforementioned letter to Vera Gebbert and an example of the “passion” Americans possess for their politics:

Does anyone in America understand American politics? Certainly no one over here can make out what is happening, in spite of numerous inspired articles by so called experts…I thought I was going to learn something from an old lady in Connecticut [Mrs. Frank Jones] the other day, but at the end of eight pages so hot that they nearly burnt my fingers, all I could gather was that the ‘Dumbocrats’ as she called them, are a sort of mixture of Hitler, the Russian secret police, and the inmates of the village lunatic asylum: but no doubt this view is a little prejudiced. 



What My Dad Has Taught (And Continues to Teach) Me

Father’s Day has now passed.  New ties are probably hanging in his closet or a new driver is in his golf bag.  Celebatory meals have been digested, cards given, hugs exchanged.

However, one day seems grossly inadequate to thank someone who has contributed so much, doesn’t it?

One of the reasons why I don’t have children yet (and, trust me, I am asked quite frequently) is because parenting is a challenging job.  Raising the next generation is a difficult task, and one not to be taken lightly.  My parents are amazing people, and I am continually grateful for their leadership and guidance in my life.  My Dad has been a perpetual inspiration.  He  and my mother have modeled for me the Christian walk, pushed me to achieve my goals and dreams, and have loved me unconditionally.  I may be chided for being sentimental, but I will gladly endure it for a man who richly deserves it.

In honor of Father’s Day, I want to identify how my father has influenced me:

1. He Has Shown Me That True Character Is Illustrated at Home.

Transparency is something I admire in people, namely because of my Dad.  My father is the same at home as anywhere else.  This authenticity is rare.  I aspire to be transparent as much as possible because such honesty is a virtue.  Those who know him will attest to his genuine character, his warm and congenial nature, and his gentle spirit.

 2. He “Postures” Responsbility and the Christian Walk

This, I believe, is one of the most prominent responsibilities of parenting.  Children learn the posture of life from parents.  In my years of teaching, I have seen children choose two distinct paths: 1) to follow in the footsteps of their parents (in both good and bad aspects) or 2) to develop into the complete opposite of what their parents are.  Of course, I am discussing teenagers here, not adults.  If you study successful adults, you will see that they succeed BECAUSE of their circumstances or DESPITE their circumstances.  Good behavior is established first in the home.  I will not delve into any nature versus nurture arguments, but I do believe that a healthy environment creates a conducive arena for reinforcing good behaviors. I had a fantastic one, thanks to the leadership of my Dad and his Biblical guidance by my Heavenly Father.

3. He is Selfless and Possesses Compassion for Others

My father is the most selfless man I have ever met.  You may argue that I’m biased, but it’s true.  For his birthday and Christmas gifts, he usually asks for work clothes or something practical.  As an adult, I refuse to do this, but insist on buying him something he will enjoy.  I cannot, in one simple blog post, explain thoroughly all of the ways that he has loved and cared for me over the years.  He and my Mom have cheered me on at nearly everything I have even done (even as an adult).  He was my baseball coach, has watched me graduate four times, and has been in the audience for almost every singing engagement I have ever had.  By the way, my Dad is an excellent bass singer and has sung in various gospel groups over the year.  My love of music stems from early memories of seeing my father warble on stage.

As an adult, I have often asked myself, “How would Dad handle this?” When I was a child, I remember Dad stopping on the side of the road to help stranded strangers or spending copious amounts of time after a long workday assisting others.  I count it a great privilege to be able to call and ask his advice, to benefit from his knowledge and wisdom.

This compassion also extends to animals.  I possess a strong desire to help animals and be an advocate for animal rights.  My parents always allowed me to have a pet (when I was of appropriate age) and taught me how to be a good steward of things with which God has entrusted me.

4. He Reinforced My Work Ethic

My Dad is a hard worker.  He maximizes so much of his time by being productive.  He doesn’t watch much television, but spends his time giving to others and working on projects as a hobby.  My insatiable work ethic, I am certain, is hard-coded into my DNA.  My parents taught me that, in whatever I endeavor, always give 110%.  This advice has served me well in my adult life.

5. He (Along with My Mom) Encouraged Me to Love Education

My parents never attended college, but you wouldn’t have known it in our home.  My parents, nearly from infancy, insisted that I go to college.  They pushed me to make good grades and to desire academic success. They always helped me with homework, which unfortunately included hours of algebraic equations.  Certainly there is a badge or award for parents who endure so much yucky homework for the sake of their child’s welfare!

6. He  and my Mom Modeled a Healthy, Loving Marriage

My parents just celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary.  How many people can boast such an accomplishment?  After 38 years (they dated for three), they are still crazy in love with each other.  They still hold hands.  My Dad had heart surgery in 2009 and my Mom beat breast cancer last year.  Through these tumultuous times, they clung to God and to each other.  As a child, I erroneously assumed everyone had a home life like mine.  Teaching has sobered me to the hard realities of life and made me realize what a privilege it was to have two loving parents.

Also, my father taught me how a man should love, respect, defend, and ultimately treat a woman.  I truly believe I have a good marriage (almost 12 years) because my parents modeled for me what a “good marriage” is.  He made me feel like I was the most important little girl in the world so I would go on to marry a man who believes I am the most important woman in the world.  By illustrating how to establish a household full of love, he has secured for me the perpetuity of a stable home life.  For this, I am forever grateful.

There are many others, but I will pause here.  If you are still blessed enough to have your father, call him and talk.  Even if you have past resentments or difficult feelings you still harbor, understand what a privilege it is to still have him.  Thank him for what he has done.

Happy Father’s Day (belated) to all fathers!

“Just Keep Pedalling”: Wisdom from My Husband

Last week, the Hurds decided to get more aggressive with our exercise plan.  I typically use our Xbox Kinect to do this, but nothing replaces the beauty of the great outdoors. My husband Aaron pulled his old mountain bike out of storage.  I didn’t own a bike so we visited a friend’s bike shop and purchased one.

The reason I didn’t already own a bike is because I honestly don’t like them.  My aversion for bikes stems from a “traumatic” event in my childhood (*cue sad organ music*).

When I was nine or ten, I went cycling with a neighborhood friend Tammy one afternoon.  Tammy and I were riding on a neglected road behind my house, as was our habit.  There is an old childhood game called “Chicken” that we occasionally played.  Tammy descended a hill, while I pedalled toward her.  Usually, at the very last second, one of us would turn the bike out of the path of the other.  Now, as an adult, I don’t see why we didn’t compose some sort of contingency plan.  For example, what if we both decided to turn the same way?  Or what if neither of us decided to turn? But kids don’t consider those sort of questions.  Kids just love to feel the wind against their face, the ecstasy of motion, the intoxication of freedom. Plus kids know that Mom will fix them right up if something goes askew.

This particular day, the latter occurred.  Tammy and I went barreling toward each other.  Each of us expected the other to turn, but neither of us did.  We both ended up having a colossal accident (well, you can’t really consider it an “accident” because it was quite intentional), rolling in the road and laughing to mask our real pain (or maybe that was just me who did that…).  However, this event was the root of a fear that I nurtured unchecked for years – the fear of falling.  I am not referring to falling down a flight of stairs necessarily (which is equally embarrassing), but falling while in motion.  Sure, I had seen it a thousand times on Looney Tunes, but there was no ACME to fix me in the real world.  In the real world, haphazard choices can have long-term consequences.  Not long after that incident, I stopped riding bicycles.

Here I am nearly 25 years later gripping the handlebars with white knuckles.  From somewhere deep inside me, the fear was rekindled.  The day we bought my bike, I was cautiously test riding while groups of young children flew by me riding and giggling, smiles on their faces.  Ah, showoffs!  Of course, they had to ride by while some strange lady couldn’t commit a turn in the parking lot of the bike shop.

Back at home, Aaron and I began pedalling uphill.  I found myself indulging the urge to slow down.  My previous bikes always had handlebars with lovely, cascading streamers, not all of these complicated speeds and brakes. Aaron, who had passed me with ease while I grunted through an incline, yelled over his shoulder, “Honey, you have to KEEP PEDALLING!  If you are too slow, you will fall off the bike.”

Fall off the bike??!!  That was my worst fear!  But as soon as I started to pedal, my speed would increase.  Aaron explained once again that speed (not incredible speed) keeps the bike upright.  It is when we attempt to control speed too much that we are in danger of an accident.  The next day, we went out again, Aaron deftly cycling in front of me, repeating the chorus from the previous day, “Keep pedalling.   Keep pedalling.  Don’t stop pedalling.”

As a car approached, I panicked.  I pulled over to the side and attempted to jump off the bike while it was still in motion.  Thanks to the ole’ “tuck and roll” method I was uninjured, but the message was clear.  I, once again, was too busy trying to control too much.  I was over-thinking instead of just enjoying the experience.

There are times in life where we feel helplessly out of control.  We look for the brake but we continue to be carried on by the momentum of time.  Last year, when my Mom fought (and conquered) breast cancer, I did the same thing.  I wanted to pull the brake.  Nearly anesthetized with fear, I had to push forward, trusting God would carry me as He promises He would.

He did.

Whatever trial you face in life, brace yourself and keep pedalling.  This season will pass, and just as God did with me, He will make something beautiful out of the experience.  Keep pedalling and who knows, you might just enjoy the scenery you ignored while distracted by your fear.

As for me and my bike, I’m still struggling.  With every passing day, I slightly improve.  I’ll keep you posted.




I have a small confession: it is difficult to satisfy me at times.  I have a bad habit of questioning and requestioning.  Most people would say that this type of critical thinking is a good thing, but at times it nearly torments me. Casually, I call this “Greener Pastures Syndrome.”  We tell ourselves, It will be so much better once I have more money or My life would really improve if I just had X, or Y, or Z.  I personally don’t care for lifestyle changes (more money, etc.) rather it is difficult for me to trust the inconsistency of an idea that ebbs and flows.  Sometimes our jobs change or our relationships change, we find ourselves carried by the tide to unexpected places far away from the security of the shore.

I often couple this with the rotten world we inhabit today.  Senseless murders, drug and sex trafficking, and the oppression that is taking place worldwide.  It is enough to make you heartsick.  As Christians, we need to address these issues (and for many, continue to address these issues) in our culture.  We need to shun our sinful, selfish natures and learn to pour in to helping others (I am including myself here).  We should not simply help with our wallets, but with our hands, our minds, and our voices as well.

Despite all of this, I still have hope.  From what wellspring does my hope originate?  I assure you it is not of this world.


So what is the root of this traveler’s wanderlust?  Why do I often feel so unsatisfied when God has blessed me so richly?   It hit me:  I’m homesick.

Most casual readers are not familiar with C.S. Lewis’s first work of fiction The Pilgrim’s Regress.  As one could ascertain from the title, it is fashioned after John Bunyan’s famous work The Pilgrim’s Progress. The story follows the odyssey of John from Puritania.  He is aware of the overzealous “Landlord” who imposes rules and regulations on the people.  John attempts to escape the suffocating oppression of the Landlord by playing outside when he hears strange, beautiful music. Then a faint voice commands him to “Come.”  I’ll let Lewis’s words take over here:

“While he strained to grasp it, there came to him from beyond the wood a sweetness and a pang so piercing that instantly he forgot his father’s house and his mother, and the fear of the Landlord, and the burden of the rules. All the furniture of his mind was taken away.  A moment later he found that he was sobbing, and the sun had gone in: and what it was that had happened to him he could not quite remember, nor whether it had happened in this wood, or in the other wood when he was a child.  It seemed to him that a mist which hung at the far end of the wood had parted for a moment, and through the rift he had seen a calm sea, and in the sea an island, where the smooth turf sloped down unbroken to the bays, and out of the thickets peeped the pale, small-breasted Oreads, wise like gods, unconscious of themselves like the beasts, and tall enchanters, bearded to their feet, sat in green chairs among the forests.  But even while he pictured these things he knew, with one part of his mind, that they were not like the things he had seen – nay, that what had befallen him was not seeing at all.  But he was too young to heed the distinction: and too empty, now that the unbounded sweetness passed away, not to seize greedily whatever it had left behind.  He had no inclination yet to go into the wood: and presently he went home, with a sad excitement upon him, repeating to himself a thousand times, ‘I know now what I want.’ The first time that he said it, he was aware that it was not entirely true: but before he went to bed he was believing it” (12).

For those who are familiar with the story, you know that John traverses through several lands, discussing figures allegorically (Hitler and Mussolini among them) and is tempted by science to stray from his pursuit of the Island.  He even meets “Sigismund Enlightenment” who informs John that his strong desire for the island is “the pretence that you put up to conceal your own lusts from yourself” (41).  Throughout his journey, John is introduced to several different individuals who diagnose what “the island” actually represents.

When John finally speaks with Wisdom and Vertue, the moral is made clear:

“There is no man or no nation at all capable of seeing the Island, who have not learned by experience, and that soon, how easily the vision ends in lust: and there is none also, not corrupted, who has not felt  the disappointment of that ending, who has not known that it is the breaking of the vision, not its consummation…What does not satisfy when we find it, was not the thing we were desiring.  If water will not set a man at ease, then be sure it was not thirst, or not thirst only, that tormented him: he wanted drunkenness to cure his dullness, or talk to cure his solitude, or the like.  How indeed, do we know our desires save by their satisfaction? When do we know them until we say, ‘Ah, this was what I wanted’? And if there were any desire which it was natural for man to feel but impossible for man to satisfy, would not the nature of this desire remain to him always ambiguous?  If old tales were true, if a man without putting off humanity could indeed pass the frontiers of our country…then first, to his backward glance, the long roads of desire that he had trodden would become plain in all their winding, and when he found, he would know what it was that he had sought” (97).

I seek because I know good exists, perhaps not always in this world but in another.  At times, in such a fallen world as ours, someone will display bold altruism.  Because of a stranger’s generosity, people in the community are fed and clothed, Africans get clean water or a new pair of shoes, houses are built for those who cannot afford renovations.  In each display of generosity, there is a glimpse of goodness, a glimpse of God.  It is a preview, although brief, of the goodness that awaits us.  And that is why I hope.  I am homesick.

This is also why Lewis’s Mere Christianity affected me so deeply.  It was this passage that finally explained the restlessness I often experience:

“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.  If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud.  Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing.  If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage.  I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same” (76).

Let us seize every opportunity to serve.  Let us not sequester and essentially remove ourselves from our culture.  Society needs us.  It needs our hope and our light.  Most importantly, let us not grow weary by what Shakespeare called the “slings and arrows of outrageous forture” or by the threat of change. With each passing moment, we inch a little closer to home, but while we have breath, let us seek a higher purpose and perhaps share a peek at what awaits us.


**For more on this topic, read the article “Not So Fast: C.S. Lewis’s Legacy” by the brilliant Dr. Bruce Edwards.

My Time at the C.S. Lewis Colloquium

Picture taken with my mentor and chair Dr. Jasmine Renner at Taylor’s local eatery Ivanhoe’s

“Nothing, I suspect, is more astonishing in any man’s life than the discovery that there do exist people very, very like himself” – Surprised by Joy

Last weekend, I had the great pleasure of attending and presenting research at the Colloquium on C.S. Lewis and Friends at the beautiful Taylor University.

The experience was nothing less than amazing.  Most people who are casually acquainted with me are aware of my deep affinity for C.S. Lewis.  Lewis references spring from my lips quite unintentionally, and often to the disdain of those who have spent more than 30 minutes around me.  For example, while I was preparing backstage for graduation, I explained to a colleague that I wore heels but I did not want to suffer the same fate as Lewis did when he accepted his essay award as a student at Oxford (for the record, he fell attempting to walk across stage; thanks for that piece of info Will Vaus!)  In my world, nearly everything has a Lewis reference, either to Narnia, the science fiction trilogy, an essay, or Lewis’s own personal experiences.

Here, I found strangers who quickly became friends.  I imagine it would be no different if I were joining an Inklings meeting.  All of a sudden, we could quote, chuckle, or discuss with ease.  I quickly altered from “that annoying Lewis nerd” to “one of us.”  The transformation is quite exhilarating!  One website you absolutely MUST visit is which is maintained by fellow Lewis fan William O’Flahtery.  The website features book reviews, Lewis facts, and podcasts with Lewis scholars.

Among meeting a plethora of Lewisophiles, I had the privilege to personally thank three of my research contributors: Devin Brown, Alan Jacobs, and Will Vaus.  Not surprisingly, they were incredibly kind, even to muttering, nervous fans like me.  All Lewis scholars moved among us, being personable and quite interested in engaging in conversation.  I had great talks with David C. Downing and met a new scholar and author of the book Light, Charlie Starr.  If you haven’t procured a copy of Light yet, I highly suggest you get one.  It is literary analysis with a generous dose of mystery concerning the “last” short story published by Lewis.  Great read!

If you ever have the opportunity to attend this conference, please do so.  The papers and plenary speakers challenge the mind and strengthen the faith.  Just as Jack would have wanted it.