The Case For Christ

By Lee Strobel

Catholic-ometer: 4.5 of 5

Enjoyability: 5 of 5

Oddly, I can't really think of much to say about this book.  It's an overview of the various aspects and claims surrounding the issue of whether Jesus was really God, and whether he really rose from the dead.

In order to prove these things, Strobel travels around to speak with various experts; philosophers, scientists, medical experts and so forth, asking questions like "could Jesus have survived crucifixion?"  "Could the New Testament documents be mere legends, which developed over time?"  "Can we prove that Jesus really appeared to people after his death?" and so forth.  Ultimately, he finds that the evidence is firm and strong, in favor of Jesus being exactly who he said he was.

The book is structured in a rather non-standard way, comparing the various questions about Jesus to types of evidence that might be brought forth in a courtroom.  Legal proceedings are rarely objective in terms of their approach to the evidence, and in terms of whether the evidence is accepted or rejected, so I don't personally find the analogy all that helpful, but the question that matters is whether the evidence presented in this book is good and strong.  It certainly is.

Argument by argument, Strobel poses the typical skeptic and atheistic responses to these experts, and finds that there are good answers for every last one.

As a Catholic, I of course believe that there are other good reasons to believe in Jesus, aside from just these, but these are the reasons that I think will sync with most people, and all things considered, I have no problem with that.  This book does what it claims to do; lay out a strong case for Christ, and it does it very well and professionally.

I've also heard that some folks have taken issue with this book; saying that it doesn't sufficiently address the opposing case, and I have two things to say about that.

The first is that the book is called "the Case -For- Christ."  From the title, anyway, there's no reason to pick it up and expect to see a debate, or any other form of two-sided argument.  That said, if you want to read a debate, the book does cite a couple of excellent ones in book form, which can still be picked up and read today.

The second thing I have to say is that in fact, for the most part, contrary arguments against the divinity of Jesus tend to take the form of asking questions, intended to disprove it, and I would argue that Strobel asks many of these questions himself.  In fact, this is what drives the book.  Questions are asked, and those same questions are answered, so I would say that much of the book consists of the answering of atheistic and skeptical objections to the claims of Christianity, and therefore, there's no reason to not see the book as two-sided or fair, just because it arrives at a decisive conclusion.

Others may object that the book won't "convince" certain people.  Of course it won't.  It's just a book.  You need to be willing to learn from it if you're going to be convinced by it, regardless of how good the evidence is.

Still others have claimed that this kind of issue shouldn't even be decided on the basis of evidence, which is rather like saying "I'm irrational in my faith, and if you want to believe in God, you need to be irrational too."  There's no better way to scare honest thinkers out of the church, which sadly, may be part of the point of such objections.  When you've got people there, who are good at thinking about what's right and what's wrong, you often find it much harder to do whatever you feel like.

For the record, nothing about faith requires a lack of evidence, or God forbid, an irrational philosophy of knowledge.  Thinkers won't be forced out of Heaven for being thinkers.  Only for being impenitent sinners.

So, in summary, this book is about presenting a convincing case for the divinity of Jesus, and it does an excellent job.  There's not much more to say about it than that.

Orthodoxy

By G. K. Chesterton

Catholic-ometer: 4.5 of 5

Enjoyability: 3.5 of 5

I've given most books by G.K. Chesterton high marks in the past, because I like his wit, and frankly, his orthodoxy.  I was also impressed by his sharp understanding of the errors in the thinking of the time in which he lived, and his talent for humor and rhetoric, and especially his admiration of Saint Thomas Aquinas, who single-handedly saved me from a ten-year run of agnosticism.

Nevertheless, sometimes, his prose gets decidedly purple; more so than is good for it.  I just don't complain about it because he uses the prose to outline some very clear and provable truth.

Orthodoxy, though considered by many to be Chesterton's magnum opus, is, in fact, one of my least favorite of his books, and the main reason is that he demonstrates so clearly that it is prejudices and preferences; not reason, on which his view of the world rests.

I'm sorry to have to say this, because we share so much in common, but in the early parts of the book, Chesterton begins saying that he is assuming that he's speaking to people who want the world to be dramatic and romantic, rather than a system.  He starts talking about lessons that he learned from classic fairy tales, and about the joys in monotony that babies seem to experience, and none of this has anything to do with logic or reason.  If I could ask Chesterton about these passages, I would put it in this way.

"Suppose that you met a person who had never heard any of the old fairy tales, never heard a poem or a song, and discovered joy, only in those rare instances in which he was victorious over something.  How would you defend your world view to this person?  What frame of reference would you use?  What frame of reference would you -be able- to use?"

I fear things have gotten much worse since Chesterton's time, in that children no longer hear the instructive fairy tales, and no longer have much experience of the world outside their doors.  Because of this, the process of "letting fresh air in," as Chesterton puts it; letting it into their thoughts is not so simple as reminding them of their childhood.  Their childhood, very often, did not contain any recognition of the things that make life worth living.

However, as the book progresses, Chesterton extends this problem, making aesthetic claims as though they were truth claims.

In chapter 4, he claims that we should be grateful for snow being white, because it could have been black, and for roses being red because they could have been blue.  The problem is, I don't see any reason to agree with him on this, simply because my aesthetics differ from his.  Aesthetics are not objective statements, but expressions of how certain stimuli make one feel.  If white snow and red roses make him happy, then good for him, but this is not a statement of fact, nor is it constant for everyone.  I, for example, love red roses, but would -prefer- black snow to white.  I just dislike the color white.  It provokes unpleasant emotions in me.  So what?  That proves nothing, and for the most part, it effects none of the choices I make, simply because I choose not to let it.

In the same chapter, he seems to praise monotony, or at least, to claim that it's better, since small babies seem to enjoy it so much.  Then, he criticizes naturalism for being monotonous.  Clearly there's a problem with this.  I'd say monotony is the least of naturalism's problems, of which there are many.

Chapter 4, paragraph 31; Chesterton claims that people choose which emotions to have.  This is false.  People choose which emotions to -express,- but the emotions which you have are completely beyond your control.

He then goes -far- off topic, defending "smallness" as being inherently more lovable and romantic than "bigness," and again, using only personal sentiments as his evidence.  Needless to say, I was unconvinced, and even somewhat angered, as it seems, to me, totally irrelevant to the subject of the book, and unlikely to provoke the reaction that he wishes.  The fact that I personally find smallness repulsive, and bigness enchanting is a side issue, though it is, in fact, one of my primary reasons for being willing to listen to the gospel message of dying to this life in pursuit of the next; the pearl of great price is not worth pursuing because of its smallness.

Chesterton uses the last few paragraphs of chapter 4 to try to outline why the need to practice economics is a fun and romantic need, by comparing it to Robinson Crusoe being marooned on an island with only a few items surviving the shipwreck.  However, there are several reasons why this comparison fails.

1. Sure, economics can be part of an adventure, but only when there seems to be some chance of losing, or of winning.  Crusoe had the chance to do either, and that's what makes his experiences an "adventure."

2. Simply because something -can- be fun, it doesn't follow that it -will- be.  I doubt that Crusoe thought it was very much fun being shipwrecked, regardless of how much we may enjoy reading about his escapades from a safe, warm armchair, which brings me to the next reason.

3. There is a difference between fantasy and reality.  We may have great fun watching a movie about a boxer who's badly injured in a fight, and has to work his way back to the top, but that doesn't mean that it would be fun to -be- badly injured, or that bad injuries are somehow good because of this.

4. Even if something -is- fun, it doesn't follow that it's in any way related to drama or romance, or even to risk.  If you can appreciate having small tools at your disposal for large tasks, you can also appreciate having large tools for even larger tasks.

5. None of this is relevent.  It's all subjective aesthetics, which we don't all share, and since that's the whole message in this case, if you don't already share his aesthetics, you won't get his message.

Chapter 5 opens with a cursory glance at the concepts of pessimism and optimism, which, unfortunately, he gets completely wrong.  He remarks that he thinks optimists are people who think everything is good except pessimists, and pessimists are people who think everything is bad except themselves.  Again; problems.

1. Many optimists (and pessimists) think that pessimists are good.

2. Many pessimists -loath- themselves.

3. Pessimism and optimism, even as abstractions, are not about whether you think things are good or bad.  Rather, they're about how often you -dwell on- the things that you think are good, versus the ones you think are bad.  A man may recognize that his neighbors never talk to him, except to scorn, that his government is run by a tyrant, than the businesses that surround him are all using their money for evil purposes, and that he himself is friendless, relationless, childless and destitute, and yet, still be an optimist, because he comforts himself by reminding himself of the things that -are not- horrible, even if those things are mere dreams.

4. Pessimism and optimism are not real people-types.  They're abstractions invented by psychologists to try to keep track of trends in psychology.  It would be a mistake to assume that any human being is a -pure- optimist or a -pure- pessimist.

5. Again, what does this have to do with philosophy?  Nothing, as far as I can tell.

Next comes the point where Chesterton begins to speak as though we have some obligation to be loyal to the universe, by our very nature.  This sounds suspiciously like "My universe, right or wrong," which he seems to admit later, strangely.  Then, in Chapter 5, Paragraph 6, he launches a broadside attack against pessimists, claiming them to be "candid friends."  This is clearly not always true, since often, pessimists will be very candid about -not- being your friend, especially when you criticize them for being pessimists.

He becomes more and more derogatory towards pessimists as the chapter continues, calling them traitors to the universe and the like.  It's just garbage by this point.  None of this has anything to do with sanity or philosophy.  He's just coming down on his least favorite type of personality.  For example, he claims that pessimists don't love the things they chastise.  I know for fact this is not true of all pessimists.  Frankly, I expected better.

Next, Chesterton defines the difference between "good" and "bad" optimism; that bad optimism leads to laziness and complacence, while good optimism leads to eager action.  It's an important point to make, and I'm glad he made it, but in a way, it also serves to further outline his mistakes regarding pessimism.  After all, if optimism can motivate a person well or badly, why can't pessimism do the same?  Why is it only optimism which has a "good" version, while all pessimists are lumped into the same pile?

However, midway through chapter 6 (paragraph 16,) Chesterton begins defending the faith again, and the book picks up!  He includes several brilliant examples of accusations thrown at the church, and how they contradict one another, as well as a fantastic interpretation of the "lion will lay down with the lamb" passage in paragraph 27, which seems to imply that there's room for more than one type of personality in Christianity, in defiance of his previous remarks.

However, it doesn't last, and by the end of chapter 7, he's singing the praises of levity again, and trying to claim that the saints would back him up (I can think of at least a dozen of the great saints of the Church who were as serious-minded as IRS agents.)  If he wants to claim that the faith has plenty of room for those who don't take themselves too seriously, I would say that claim is true, but the way he's talking, it almost sounds as though serious individuals have little or no place in the kingdom of God.  I hope I don't need to explain why that's false.

Nevertheless, Chapter 8 opens up, and once again, we're back to strong critiques of anti-Christian arguments, then in Chapter 9, arguments for why doubt is unjustified in the case of belief in God.  These chapters are -really good.-

I guess my conclusion with regard to the book is a sort of "halfway" conclusion.  It gets points just for being orthodox, but I have to say that I think the book meandered somewhat between legitimate defenses of the faith, and irrelevant aesthetics, with which I very much disagree.  Statements of aesthetics and outlook (positive vs. negative) are not matters of faith or morals, and don't really matter when it comes to believing in God, or being a Christian.  As long as you take it in that context, I can't imagine this book's "low points" doing you any harm, and I do recommend the other half of it, because, as I said, the "high points" are -very- high.

Heresy

By Michael Coren

Catholic-ometer: 4 of 5

Enjoyability: 4 of 5

I very much enjoyed Coren's last book; Why Catholics Are Right, and I highly recommend that book, as it delivered precisely what it claimed to; giving a strong defense of the Catholic Church, both in teachings and in history.

However, although I enjoyed this book too, it's very different from "Why Catholics Are Right" in two essential ways.

First, unlike "Why Catholics Are Right," the book's title doesn't describe what's actually in the book.  I don't just mean that the book doesn't contain heresy, of course.  I mean that it doesn't discuss heresy, and doesn't talk about what heresy is, nor does it provide any historical information about past heresies and how they're all resurfacing today, despite having been proved false long ago.

The second part of the title is more relevant to the contents of the actual book; "Ten lies they spread about Christianity."  However, even this is not quite right.  There are ten chapters, each with a broad topic, but the individual lies addressed here number far more than ten, all told.

The second thing that makes this book noticably different from "Why Catholics Are Right," is the shift of focus off the Catholic Church, and onto "all people who believed that Jesus is God."

I mind this somewhat more than I would from a non-Catholic author like C.S. Lewis.  As obligated as we are to reach out to those who've become separated from the church, I've always had a problem with this tendency to lump all Christians together, as if we were all one group.  It doesn't make Coren's statements any less true, but there's something bittersweet about this style of writing.

Again, I can't find any claim in this book that I really disagree with, nor anything which a normal Joe with an internet connection can't verify for himself with maybe fifteen seconds worth of work, but then, I'm sure that won't stop certain people from decrying it as trash, because they're emotionally-invested in God not existing.

The main subjects of the book are the historical evidence for Jesus being a real person, the traditional atheist arguments, like the argument from evil and so on, the historical blunders of the Da Vinci Code (rather an old chestnut by now, but appreciated nonetheless,) the notion that Christians are in some way less intelligent than Atheists, the proposition that Hitler was Christian, the bunk about Christianity supporting slavery, opposing science or progress, the real Christian stance on the life issues, and a few others issues put together in the last chapter.  This is the collection of lies that Michael Coren has decided to refute, and done pretty well at, although my favorite chapters are the last two, just as reference material.

Coren does make one remark at the start of the book about how we can't really prove our faith for certain, which I very much disagree with, and another few remarks about the place of Christians in society later on, which, while technically correct, are worded somewhat weakly.  Still, it's a decent book, and if you're under any illusions about Christianity not being an essential component for civilized society, you might want to give it a look.

Saint Thomas Aquinas

By G. K. Chesterton

Catholic-ometer: 5 of 5

Enjoyability: 4 of 5

No, this book does not contain the writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas.  It's merely a biography of him, written by none other than G. K. Chesterton; one of the finest writers whose work I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

Not too many distinct facts are actually known about Saint Thomas Aquinas, apart from his philosophy and theology; the teachings that he wrote and the things he believed and taught.  Actual facts and legends about his life are few and far between, as Chesterton himself remarks, and while he faithfully reports them, they're hardly enough to fill a whole book.

Because of this, Chesterton fills the remainder of the book with observations on the scholarly opposition, history and political atmosphere of the time period, which Thomas Aquinas dealt with.  He talks about the problems that he had to deal with and the issues that he resolved, and finally, how his masterworks of logic were forgotten and why.

Inevitably, Chesterton's personality and writing style intrude into the tale, as the tale itself is hardly told in a normal, narrative format.  Chesterton was a sharp-witted man with a brilliant sense of humor.

However, I didn't enjoy this book as much as I might have, for two reasons, and regrettably, both have to do with the -way- in which it's written.

First, while Chesterton's wit is clear in the text, I'm afraid that I found many of his jokes to be less -funny- and more -ironic observations.-  This is a minor issue at most, though, and my other problem with the book is more intrusive by far.

My second problem is that Chesterton just doesn't talk like a historian.  He talks like he's describing the history of this saint to a bunch of his friends at a club; peppering it with analogies, comparisons and amusing anecdotes, and while, in discussion, I have no difficulty with this, it does make it a little harder to keep track of the point of the chapter, or of the paragraph, or to remember where Saint Thomas Aquinas was when we last left our hero.  I just found it a little distracting.

Now, that's not to say it ruined the book for me.  I certainly enjoyed it, and I agree with most of the points that Chesterton made; even in his comparisons.  Frankly, I've never read a Chesterton book that I didn't, in some respects, enjoy (except for some of his fiction.)  I -especially- like this book's accuracy and faithfulness to church teaching.  Still, it wasn't without its problems.  If you're not easily distracted, and you want to learn about this great doctor of the Church, then by all means, pick this book up.  It's a fine book, and very enjoyable.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you enjoyed it even more than I did.

Heretics

By G. K. Chesterton

Catholic-ometer: 5 of 5

Enjoyability: 5 of 5

I've had less time to read recently, due to my new job not being on a bus route, but I did still manage to squeeze in "Heretics" over the last month or so, and I have to say, I was very impressed.  It's somewhat dated, to a degree, since the people discussed by Chesterton in the book are dead now, but I'd say it's one of the most entertaining works by him that I've read; making several essential points along the way.

In this book, Chesterton addresses the works of such men as Rudyard Kipling, Whistler, George Bernard Shaw and H. G. Wells.  Even if you're not very familiar with the works of these men, Chesterton's humor and wit in explaining the problems with them provide both an explanation of who they were and where they went wrong, and also quite a number of good jokes and humorous comparisons, which makes you want to keep reading.

I don't recall that many instances in this book that upset me, which is telling by itself, but I do remember a few of the best points that Chesterton made in this work.

To start with, when talking about Wells, he addressed the issue of scientific humility; which can be identified by the fact that those who possess it imagine grand things, recognizing themselves to be small.  Adventuring, he said, is for the unadventurous.  I admit, there's probably a lot of truth to that.  The more adventurous a protagonist is, the harder it is to get excited about his adventure, or to be impressed by it, which may be part of the reason why the fiction of (for example) Tolkien and Lewis was so magnificent, and remains so popular to this day.

Later in the book, he replies to the notion that "there are many different moralities all over the world, all different from each other" by making a comparison.

He said "suppose you were to say 'camels are different all over the world, some have six legs, some are green, some have scales, some are triangular, etc...  They're so different!'  Well, why do you call them all camels in the first place?  How do you know a camel when you see one?"

The point, clearly, is that just because we -call- something a morality, doesn't mean that it -is- a morality, nor should we refer to everything as "morality" which we do.  I love this stuff.

After making many good points, similar to these, Chesterton ends the book by responding to the "Art for Art's Sake" crowd, by pointing out that no really good art ever exists for its own sake.  They wanted to remove all dogmas from art.  He pointed out that the only really good and popular artists were the dogmatic ones, whether their dogmas were right or not.

I have almost nothing to add to this book.  Chesterton's writings were so exceptionally good, and advocated such exceptional good sense, that they didn't become popular among the public as a whole, but I think he's one of the finest authors I've ever read, and this book is one of his finest works.

Hooray! I'm Catholic!

By Hana Cole & Joanna Steege

Catholic-ometer: 5 of 5

Enjoyability: 5 of 5

I recently gave the movie "the greatest miracle" one face down from a perfect score in enjoyability because of its tendency to feminize the heavenly hosts and treat Jesus and Mary like people without distinct personalities.  The same, in a sense, is done by this book, yet I feel no reservations about giving it a perfect score.  However, I have two reasons why.

First, this is not a book written for adults.  It's a children's book; meant to help kids see Jesus as a parental figure who cares about them.  While I'll be the first to say that the mere message of "Jesus loves you" is insufficient to replace the -actual- gospels, I'm not offended by it in something that was intended for children, since you have to start somewhere.

Secondly, the book is not stilted, and is, in fact, very entertaining.  The clever rhymes and beautiful pictures will keep the attention of young kids, and make the rather simple reading level more tolerable for adults as well.  Perhaps even enjoyable.

I, for example, enjoyed the fact that the book differentiates between "little" good things (like candles, palm branches, vestments, etc...,) and "big" good things (our Lord's real presence in the Eucharist.)  Learning to prioritize between different kinds of goods is an important skill for anyone, and learning to recognize and appreciate the greatest gifts given to us by God is also important.  In short, it squeezes in some key training in the faith, which is more than I expect from a book on this age level.

It's faithful, it's enjoyable, and it's a stepping stone to bigger things.  I have nothing to complain about here.

What's Wrong With the World

By G. K. Chesterton

Catholic-ometer: 5 of 5

Enjoyability: 5 of 5

I've enjoyed every book by Chesterton that I've ever read.  He's a very clever, insightful and humorous writer, but this one was especially good.  In it, Chesterton addresses many big problems in the world of his time (and even more so, the world of today,) and comes to some very jarring conclusions about them.

As with every writer worth reading, Chesterton utterly challenges the false assumptions that the world bases its whole system of belief on; even assumptions about things like public education, voting and soap, and also like with every writer worth reading, he backs up his claims with logical analogies and evidence, which help to support his views.  I wouldn't dream of robbing you of the delight of reading these things for yourself, of course, so here's your chance to stop reading this review.  I'll spend the rest of it talking about some of the points he made.

Chesterton's first several points in this book are to point out that man has gone wrong in quite a number of ways, and made quite a number of false assumptions to prevent himself from going right again.  People make the mistake of thinking that the societies of the past failed because they were flawed in some way that we aren't.  People make choices on the basis of what they -dislike,- rather than on the basis of what's better.  People make the mistake of regarding the past with fear and distrust in general, and of assuming that only the future can offer them anything worth having; that there was nothing about the past that's worth restoring.  All of these assumptions are purely destructive, since they block a person off to an avenue of good ideas and good solutions, which would otherwise be available to them.

People make the mistake of prizing optimism over success; a happy outlook over a happy life.  They make the mistake of allowing whole groups of people, making opposite mistakes, to guide them in one false direction or another, never once suspecting that both might be wrong in certain ways, or if they suspect, unable to really do anything about it.  The early parts of the book are a real eye-opener.

Chesterton then challenges imperialism and the way wicked public changes are spread; through claiming that it's necessary.  Never once, he says, are these evil changes enacted because people really want them enacted.  They're enacted because people are convinced that they're needed, whether they're wanted or not.  However, Chesterton's point is pretty clear; they are, in truth, not needed at all; certainly not among everyday people who are just trying to live their lives and put food on the table.  Every major radical political agenda of a left-leaning slant in the modern world can be put neatly in this category.

Next, Chesterton turns his guns on feminism.  This is probably the most controversial part of the book, which may explain why I loved it so much.  Basically, he points out that men are not women, nor are women men, and that they have different natural inclinations and ways of thinking, which makes men better at some things, and women at others.  Like all the best people who address this issue, he doesn't get distracted by the feminist lines about "equality."  Indeed, women are equal to men, in their innate worth, their human rights, etc, but this does not make them the same as men, nor should it need to.  Men and women can compliment one another within society, each having a different role, and neither needing to infringe on the other.  It's not necessary, or helpful, to just mix everyone into the same pot, like we do in modern society.

Perhaps the most controversial part of this section is in Chesterton's dismissal of women's suffrage, which he defends, not by repudiating women, as feminists might have one believe, but by repudiating votes.  In a sense, I agree with him.  Voting is a grave responsibility with many dark aspects to it, and there are distinct drawbacks to it, as a system of government.  For one thing, in a monarchy, or some other such society, even if an evil tyrant takes over, you don't need to look suspiciously at most of your fellow citizens.  It probably wasn't their fault.  Not so in a democracy.  In a democracy, when an evil tyrant takes over (and it always happens eventually, as it now has to America,) you have to wake up the next morning and go to work, knowing full well that over half of your fellow citizens are either voting in ignorance, are negligent of their duties, or are evil themselves.

Then too, if an evil tyrant wants to seize power over a democracy, he can't just march his army in and take command.  He has to go through the long, slow process of gradually corrupting the hearts and/or dulling the minds of over half its citizens, so that they become evil or ignorant enough to accept him.  When all is said and done, I think that more souls are lost under an evil democracy than under and evil dictatorship.  By no means am I saying that democracies are inferior to monarchies, or anything like that.  What I am saying is that voting is not the clean and guiltless process we often make it out to be.  These aren't the points that Chesterton brings up against voting, but it's what I got to thinking about as a result of this book.

The next group of big issues dealt with in this book are education; specifically, public education of children, and how it rises from another false assumption; that because rich people allow their children to be taught by someone else, so should everyone else.  In short, that not only -can- parents escape from the task of teaching their children, but they -should.-  He explains why this is utter nonsense; what great benefits the child gains in learning from their own parents, and others who share their way of life, instead of suffering under the "merciful gifts" of the richer classes.

I should point out that with the state of public schools in America today (basically a form of child abuse,) these objections are even -more- poignant and -more- important.  In fact, really, all the objections in this book stand out much clearer and more correct than ever, but none more so than his last big observation on the world.

The problem is that man is viewing his society/social constructs as immutable, and his neighbor as flexible, when it should be the other way around.  People are trying to shape man to fit into a vision of society, rather than forming their vision of society around man.  This is what's really wrong with the world, according to G. K. Chesterton.

I couldn't agree with him more.

The Screwtape Letters

By C. S. Lewis

Catholic-ometer: 4.5 of 5

Enjoyability: 5 of 5

Apart from the chronicles of Narnia, if I could have only one of the books of C. S. Lewis, the Screwtape Letters would be it.  It's vibrant, exciting, colorful and very precise and clever in the points it makes.

The book centers around two demons; the young, inexperienced Wormwood, and the elder demon named Screwtape, who writes him letters of advice and encouragement.  These letters are much needed, as poor Wormwood keeps screwing up, and letting his human do things like become a Christian, make some new friends when his old ones become a bad influence, take a relaxing walk to clear his head so that he can think straight, etc...  Why, there's a very real danger that Wormwood might even let this particular human make it to Heaven, if he's not careful.

Every perspective in this book is cleverly inverted.  Screwtape praises the ability to sew confusion in the mind of a human being, the use of tiny slogans instead of rational explanations, to convince people of a point, the use of the word "democracy" to discourage people from excelling and so forth.  His advice to his young demon friend reveals, very cleverly, the things that we must avoid, and the kinds of traps we can easily fall into if we're not careful, as well as precisely how to stay on the right track for our lives, and all in a sort of backwards, underworld style of writing which, to be honest, I found very humorous; even largely tongue-in-cheek.

Of course, we know that demons don't really come in "older" and "younger," nor do they learn anything, and they don't really -devour- humans or one another.  Their motives are pure spite.  Still, those slight deviations from actual theology make the story more fun and easier to tell, and perhaps even better.

The mini-sequel, also included in most editions, entitled "Screwtape Proposes a Toast" is just as good as the original book, though it does, of course, have a slightly different premise.  The particularly excellent quotes and points made would simply take too long to outline.  If you haven't read this book yet, check it out.  Even if you've made the mistake of not being a Christian, you'll probably still get a kick out of Screwtape and his bungling "nephew."

The Great Divorce

By C. S. Lewis

Catholic-ometer: 4 of 5

Enjoyability: 4.5 of 5

Let me begin this review by making a couple of things about this book absolutely clear.  First, it's not a book about marraige or divorce.  Secondly, it depicts a vision of the relationship between Heaven, Hell and Purgatory which is utterly incorrect.  However, Lewis admits to this second point at both the beginning and end of the book.  It's a work of fiction; nothing else, so with that said, we can move on to the book itself.

In this novel, a soul travels from Hell to Heaven, with a few of his fellow souls, and bit by bit, each discovers just why they don't belong there.  The slavedriving, condescending boss doesn't even want to be around so many miscreants, the apostate is repulsed by the idea of knowing one idea to be true and all the others false, the thief finds he can't steal anything from Heaven, because he has nowhere to put it, etc...  It's a clever little device for a story, although as the book goes on, one is forced to wonder; just what did the narrator do to end up in Hell, and will he be able to overcome it and remain in Heaven?

This, by the way, is the element of fiction that the book makes ample use of; that technically, souls in Hell are given a chance to visit Heaven, change their ways, and remain there.  This is ludicrous, of course; the very idea of Hell implies that people have already chosen not to change their ways, and made their final decision already.  There are no further choices of this sort to be made after Death.  Still, as a basis for a story, it's an amusing little plot device.  It's just a shame that we never really learn anything of substance about the narrator.  I feel Lewis could have fleshed him out and made him an interesting character, rather than a mere cypher for viewing the other occurrances.  Still, it was fun to read, for what it was.

Now, on to specific goods and bads about the story.  I have no major complaints to speak of for the entire first half of the book.  As I said, the premise is absurd, but apart from that, it holds up very well.

However, in Chapter 9, Paragraph 88, one of the saints says that people who drink the waters of Heaven see their works as though they belonged to someone else.  Thank you, but no.  I already know what it's like to watch other people do great things, and I know it's not sufficient.  If I wanted that, I wouldn't need to go to Heaven for it.

This is one of those things that I don't think Lewis ever really understood; the notion that being with God implies the -exhaltation- of man, not his suppression.  In retrospect, many of my problems with his books stem from this basic issue.

Ch9Par100-103, for example, in which the ghost of a painter "realizes" that people receive no recognition in Heaven at all, except from God.  Needless to say, I don't agree.  God grants to the saints all things which are good, and no things which are evil.  Recognition from peers is a good thing.  Therefore...

In Ch11Par14, it's implied that people must never treat God as a means to other good things.  While I admit readily enough that God is the greatest possible goodness, and should not be undervalued, we sorry humans sometimes need to motivate ourselves, which is made even harder for those of us who have difficulty being motivated by something as abstract as true and complete goodness, or as humanoid as the son of God.  In this kind of situation, it would be prudent to seek some other good, so that one might be motivated to make the right decisions and arrive in Heaven to receive it.  Now, this is not relevant to the situation of the woman the saint was talking to in this paragraph, but I feel it should be pointed out.

As the book continues beyond these segments, however, it begins to make a number of very good and interesting points.  First is Ch11Par113, where it essentially says that every aspect of man can be raised to glory, so long as it's killed first.  I personally believe this to be true, since otherwise, the glorified man wouldn't really be a complete "man" at all.

Next is Ch13Par43, which makes the point that those who make others miserable until they choose to be happy on their own terms will be very unhappy in the end.  Still, I think this point needs to be studied just a little more closely.  On the one hand, this point really only applies to those who make other people miserable by their own choices, but on the other hand, it could be misread to imply that there's something wrong with being hard to please, which I don't think is true by itself.

Then, in Ch13Par47, we learn that the action of pity must be elevated, and the passion of pity must be executed.  Mostly correct, I think, and an important distinction to make.  When we become weak and immoral, and let ourselves become victims as a result of feeling pity towards others, we're not helping anyone, and there does need to be some way to correct this.

Finally, I feel I should mention that this book includes George Macdonald as one of its characters.  He shows up as a saint in Heaven, which by this point, I'm inclined to think he is.  Macdonald's biggest problem, aside from not being Catholic, was his universalism, and unless he intended to apostatize, which seems unlikely, I don't think his mistakes were enough to merit eternal punishment.  I disagree with him about some things, but I don't see any reason for supposing that he failed to make it to Heaven.  It did bother me a bit to see him treated like the old mentor there, though.

Ultimately, the book is about the people we observe; the study of the kinds of people who failed to make it to Heaven and why.  Of course, during this study, we examine many types of choices and psychological conditions, and find out what's wrong with them and what kinds of problems they cause for the soul of whoever has them.  This is the real meat of the story, and I really enjoyed it, in spite of all the things I was hoping to see.

On the whole, I found this book to be very enjoyable and very fun, although again, it needs to be treated as the fiction it is.  Take it in that context, and you should be just fine.

The Problem of Pain

By C. S. Lewis

Catholic-ometer: 4 of 5

Enjoyability: 3.5 of 5

In the past, I've said that in some of his works, C.S. Lewis almost seems like a professional philosopher, while in others, he clearly comes across as more of a popularizer.  This book, I'm afraid, is of the latter type.  I say this, not because it's a bad book (it deals quite well with all the major problems people have concerning pain,) but because it's non-technical and contains some errors.

There's nothing wrong with using a book to popularize very basic responses to very basic arguments (rest assured, this kind of content is as much as [perhaps more than] most internet atheists will be able to grasp on these issues,) but if you're a really educated seeker, really looking for answers to life's tough questions, or a theology student who wants to know the truth, or even just a philosophically-minded person who's not entirely on board with Christianity yet, put this book down.  In fact, even if you -are- entirely on board with Christianity, there's a chance this book might damage your faith.

Now, as I said, this book is a good book.  Rest assured, I got just as many really good quotes from it as I did bad ones.  That said, there -were- bad ones, and they came in two varieties.  The first variety was weak and illogical arguments in favor of true positions.  The second was defending very questionable, or even clearly-false positions.

At this point, I feel the need to remind you that I am not an atheist.  I'm an orthodox Roman Catholic, so when I say a position is questionable, I mean either that it has been denounced by the church, or else not affirmed by them in any way (not respected in doctrine, discipline, practice, creed or prayers.)  However, my objections to some of Lewis' conclusions will not exist in a vacuum.  I will back up my position with evidence, and a noteworthy, talented apologist like C.S. Lewis deserves, I feel, no less.

First, however, let me cover the weak defenses of true positions.  Fortunately, I only spotted two of these.

Firstly, in chapter 6, paragraph 12, he responds to the well-known Euthyphro dilemma.  The dilemma is "does God command things because they're right, or are they right because he commands them?  If he commands them because they're right, then that 'rightness' must have a source other than God.  If they're right because he commands them, then 'right' and 'wrong' are arbitrarily dependant on the will of God."

Lewis' response to this dilemma is correct.  He says that God commands things -because- they're right.  What he does not do is explain how this can happen without "rightness" originating outside of God; namely, that it is God's nature, not his will, where right and wrong originate, and his will obeys his nature in commanding right things.

Chapter 6, paragraph 18; Lewis wants to prove that pain can be good for people, and cites the claim that old people generally, in his experience, grow better with age, not worse.  However, age is not pain, and it brings many things with it other than pain.  Sometimes, for example, it brings wisdom, which is much more likely than pain alone to improve a person's character.  I think his claim that pain can be good for people is spot-on, but this argument is horribly wanting.

More importantly, however, he makes a number of claims which I think are simply wrong, and which certainly aren't required for Catholics (or indeed, Christians of any sort) to believe.  He keeps going back to these too, so I'll describe these faulty teachings first, then point out where I saw them surfacing.

1.  Competition is a form of evil.

This may not be intentional, but in Ch2Par14, he says that "hostility and competition" are a "grave evil."  Gee.  Should I have confessed my last game of chess to a priest?

I'm sorry.  I don't mean to be snide about this, but only one kind of competition is evil; the hostile kind.  If C.S. Lewis believes this (and I have no reason to think he does not,) the word "hostility" need not have been followed by anything.

2. The self-depreciation of the saints is "scientifically" accurate.

Ch4Par15.  No, it's not.  Science is about measurements, and how rotten you are is not measurable by any method of which we are aware.

3. God -causes- evil and suffering efficiently.

He doesn't use these precise words, but he does seem to imply that God is the cause of evil in Ch6Par8.  He also, in the same place, implies that the human will is evil, but that's a separate problem.

4. The human will is evil, just by being a will.

I really don't know why he would say this, since he elsewhere rejects Total Depravity (which I also reject.)  However, he seems to repeatedly confuse -evil- will with any kind of human will considered as a whole.  In Ch6Par3, he rails at the very idea of desiring anything for the self, and advocates ruthlessly shattering such desires by force.  However, the problem is that a person who -really- desired nothing for the self would also have no reason to associate with other human beings, since they wouldn't desire to be noble or virtuous, which is absurd.  Of course these desires are valid.  So are many other desires, provided they're kept in the proper order.

In Ch7Par3, he again demonstrates a fundamental confusion between the will, considered absolutely, and the will to do diabolical things.

This Error seems to feed into another one; his incorrect understanding of Heaven, which I will deal with in a moment.

5. Free will and its associated dangers are needed in order for people to live.

Ch2Par15.  I agree that free will is needed in order for people to live, but its dangers are not required, or else, it would be impossible for Heaven to exist, since people clearly live there, yet, without danger.

6. Even if there were pains in Heaven, those in the know would desire them.

Ch8Par9.  I don't think he quite understands the purpose of Heaven in saying this.  The purpose of Heaven is to be in the closest possible proximity to God.  To be in the closest possible proximity to God is to have all good things, and no evil things.  However, pain is an evil thing, in and of itself (which I think may be another point of confusion for him.)  Therefore, merely having pain proves that one is not in the closest possible proximity to God, and therefore, not in Heaven.

Believe me, after all we humans have suffered (self-inflicted or no,) a partial victory on an -eternal- scale would never be sufficient, and God knows this.  That's why Purgatory doesn't last forever.

7. In Heaven, there is no beer.

More or less.  He claims that no one can possess anything in Heaven.  Then what, may I ask, is the point of giving up the things that we clearly -do- possess?  This is a poor substitute, if true, and I'm fully convinced that it's false on that basis alone.

Still, I want to fully examine the points he makes on the subject.

Ch10Par5; he seems to recognize that this claim imperils the parable of the pearl of great price (the first objection I would have brought up,) but doesn't really deal with the issue, except to assert that what he's speaking of is "not an experience."

This requires an analysis of what the word "experience" means.  An experience, in a broad sense, is anything which is perceptible, but is still a particular instance, and is therefore not obtainable, since it ceases to occur once the experience is past.  However, a "particular instance" could, in theory, be stretched out into eternity, and therefore remain an experience, while still being imperishable.  However, it would not be obtainable.  This seems to be the common thread.  Experiences are not obtainable things, and obtainable things are more than mere experiences.

Now, rewards come in two types; either obtainable rewards, such as money or candy, or else experiences, such as a vacation, or a trip to the fair.  By merely saying that something is "not an experience," we imply that it is more than a mere perceptible, or even participative occurrance, whether or not it is experienced.  We therefore imply that it is something which can be possessed.  In other words, this paragraph contains a self-contradiction which disproves his claim.

Ch10Pars7, 9 and 10.  Lewis quotes the theologia germanica, which is not doctrine, and heavily inspired Martin Luther, to try to support his claim that not only is there no ownership in Heaven, but no human will either.  This, I think, ties into error #4.  The theologia germanica contained several questionable claims, and this; the denial of the will of the saints, was one of the big ones.  It said outright that the saints in Heaven have no will except for the will of God, but I reject this claim for one simple reason.

If this were true, asking the saints to intercede for us at the throne of God would be a wasted effort, since they would have no will to respond with.  Now, you could say that the will of the saints does not -conflict- with the will of God, but that's not the claim that C.S. Lewis makes.  He seems to have something of a mad-on for human wills and human selves, since he apparently wants both to be annihilated (the will being the highest function of the soul.)  He even claims that human beings can only fulfill themselves completely by repeatedly giving up everything they are.  I assume I don't need to point out that this is a self-contradiction, and therefore, necessarily false.

But the real question is why?  Why hold onto this notion of the self and the will being evil in and of themselves?  Why claim that anything which God made is evil?  Why not claim, with the Church, Saint Thomas Aquinas, myself, and others, that everything which God made is essentially good, but tainted by sin?  Well, it seems to me that Lewis' reason is somewhat evident...

Ch10Par1: "Heaven offers nothing that a mercenary soul can desire."

C.S. Lewis, it seems, either does not believe, or does not want people in Heaven who are only -imperfectly- penitent for their sins.

Let me explain what this means.  In Catholic doctrine, we define two types of penitence.  -Perfect- penitence, in which you're sorry for your sins because you know you've offended God, and don't wish to, and -imperfect- penitence, in which you're sorry for your sins because you're afraid of being punished (like, with the loss of goods or rewards.)

It seems that Mr. Lewis wants to make the point that the Christian God is not morally-inferior to anyone, because he rejects those who do his will out of ulterior motives, but this is problematic for four main reasons.
1. It's contrary to Church teaching, and therefore false.
2. It's contrary to the words of the apostle Paul, who said, in his letter to the Romans, that God will give to each person according to what he has -done.-  Not according to his motives for doing it.
3. It does not, in fact, make God seem morally-superior, but rather, morally-inferior for not showing mercy on those who tried to please him, without really understanding the best reasons why they should.
4. I can only imagine how many modern men may have read these words and said to themselves "forget this.  If this is the best deal I can get out of Christianity, I'm better off being an atheist."  A mere two years ago, I'd have said the same.

The fact is that no matter how much certain Christians may want to thumb their noses at regular Joe Christian for following God, not out of selflessness, but because he wants a happy ending, you're much, much, -much,- better off not doing so.  Jesus didn't say that people needed perfect contrition in order to enter Heaven.  He said people needed faith and humility, and that they needed to be baptised, eat his body, drink his blood, take up their cross... You know...  Catholic stuff.

Just living this way involves a massive degree of sacrifice, to the point where there are days that only the promise of that happy ending gets us through.  This is the kind of understanding of the relationship between this life and the next that Jesus preached.  He didn't claim that God would force people out for not having a perfect motive, or that dangers and life were one and the same, or that God would lobotomize the saints of their human will.  Our Lord wasn't nearly so grim as all that.

He said that any man who has given up lands/cattle/wife/mother/father/etc... for his sake would receive (implying ownership) much more in the age to come.

When you think about it, that's a darn good deal, and I wonder why so many otherwise-holy people want to spoil that.

Again, this review may have come across as just a load of griping.  I'm sorry if it seemed that way.  It's only because these are complex issues, and they take a while to explain.  As I said at the beginning, this book is more than half right.  Its missteps are few and far between, but they do exist.  Just keep your eyes open and proceed with caution, and you'll do just fine.  You might even learn a thing or two about the problem of evil and how to approach it.  Just don't take all of it at face value.

Miracles

By C. S. Lewis

Catholic-ometer: 4.5 of 5

Enjoyability: 4.5 of 5

In some works, C. S. Lewis comes across as a popularizer, while in others, one could swear he was a professional philosopher.  "Miracles" is Lewis at his most deeply-philosophical, and perhaps his most theologically-correct book as well, although that's a tough judgment to make.

The main point of this book is to explain how and why miracles are possible, and why, in fact, they're not just possible, but -must have- occurred in the past, and will occur again in the future.  There's nothing encyclopedic about this approach.  Miracles aren't classified or divided into categories.  Rather, the point is to explain why a resistence to faith in miracles is unjustified.

In this spirit, the first several chapters directly address one of the biggest obstacles to belief in miracles; naturalism; the belief that the universe is all there is.  Lewis does a good job addressing the subject, making several proofs which indicate clearly that naturalism cannot be correct.  He then moves on to misunderstandings of what the term "miracle" means, refutes the arguments of some anti-religious philosophers, then gets rather deeply into the subject of miracles as seen in history, in the context of the Christian faith, and finally ends by addressing the anticipated miracle of the universal resurrection of the dead, and the importance of continuing to believe in this miracle.

I liked it.  Lewis' arguments stand the test of time, and his refutations are as valid today as they were when he was writing them.  Naturalism still hasn't found any way to get around these key points.  In fact, if anything, the case against naturalism has grown even stronger since Lewis wrote this.

For example, one of the philosophers who Lewis addresses most centrally was David Hume, who said that because nature is absolutely uniform, nothing is more unlikely than a miracle, and that therefore, if a reasonable man is asked to guage whether a miracle is a probable explanation for something, he'll always need to answer "no."  Therefore, even if a miracle -did occur,- no reasonable man could justify admitting or recognizing it.

Lewis responded by pointing out that Hume has actually made two claims.
1. That nature is absolutely uniform.
2. That miracles don't occur.
He then used the first to try to justify the second.  The problem with doing this, Lewis said, is that both of these claims mean exactly the same thing, and this is therefore essentially question-begging in favor of miracles not occurring.

Furthermore, Hume doesn't prove that miracles don't occur, even using this trick.

Now, I use this as an example because since Hume's day, probability theory has progressed quite a bit, and there are even stronger arguments against his position now, based on that.  To illustrate this, Hume's judgment was based on the following understanding of probability...

-Each event has an intrinsic probability, which must be taken into account when guaging whether or not we should believe it occurred or might occur.-

While still true, this understanding of probability is not -sufficient- by itself.  There are many other rules to follow in modern probability theory, including...

-In addition to the intrinsic probability of events, one also needs to take into consideration how probable it is that the proposed event might -not- have occurred.-
-Furthermore, one needs to consider how probable it is that, if the proposed event -had not- occurred, we would have the same evidence that we do have.-

The question of what provides the best explanation in terms of its total scope, whether it's a sufficient explanation in degree, whether the explanation covers all the facts...  All of these things need to be considered when guaging the probability of an event, and yet Hume considers none of them; trying to reduce the measuring stick of miracles to only their -intrinsic- probability, and worse yet, and intrinsic probability based on nothing more than his own assertions.

Hume's work seems, therefore, to be utterly obsolete.

Fortunately, though, Lewis' work continues to stand the test of time, though as I said, the arguments in favor of Christianity have progressed since then, and even in the last twenty years.  It's precisely this kind of book, which shows where we came from and where we've headed, which I most enjoy; sound arguments phrased in an accessible language, while still being complex and logical enough to hold the attention of the most distractable of faithful Christians.

Mere Christianity

By C. S. Lewis

Catholic-ometer: 4 of 5

Enjoyability: 4 of 5

I had to get to this book eventually.  In apologetics circles, it's considered a classic.  Strong-worded enough to be assertive, and yet still vague enough that it can be used by both Catholics and protestants alike to defend their faith.

I have to say straight-out that I consider most of this book to be a masterpiece, even though I generally balk at anything even the slightest bit vague.  I had a few issues with the book from time to time, but none of them is anything major, and I can deal with them quickly in just a few paragraphs, while also covering the stuff I particularly liked.

Lewis is as much of, if not more of a popularizer than he is a theologian, so his prose and patterns of speech are nice and casual; usually easy to read, even when dealing with very complex subjects.

He first talks about natural law, the difference between right and wrong, and the reason for that difference.  No disagreements here.  Next, he discusses conceptions of God and our relationship with him.  Still no complaints.  Lewis is frequently amusing throughout these parts, as well as edifying.  Many of his comparisons are obviously intended to be humorous, while still being entirely true and correct.

Next, he gets into the meat of morality, and several key sins, such as sins against the virtues, social morality, sexual morality, offenses against marraige and so forth.  All good and important topics.  The one problem I have here is that he describes sexual immorality as one of the "least bad" sins.  It's not.  In fact, it can be one of the most dangerous mortal sins, not because of its inherent severity, but because of its inherent draw, and the complexity of the issue, which often makes it hard to comprehend why it's wrong.  The problem, of course, is that sexual immorality devalues another person for your own pleasure, and when you start devaluing people for pleasure, it's -very- hard to stop, until eventually, you devalue everyone, and the only person you care about is yourself.  Sexual immorality, in other words, can lead to the mentality that other people exist only to give you pleasure or satisfaction, which is as far removed from Christian charity as you can get.

Next, the book gets into more of the virtues, as well as the vice of pride.  I didn't think Lewis sufficiently pinned down just what exactly the sin of pride -is,- what makes it a sin and when, but I'm always looking for greater specificity in things like this.

Book four of Mere Christianity gave me, I think, the most problems.  Let me see if I can outline them.

1. Lewis seems to think being nice is an inherently good thing.  I can think of many situations where this wouldn't be the case, like a drill instructor, or a parish priest during his homilies.  I'd have defined the difference between "nice" and "good" a bit more closely first.

2. There's something of a division within Christianity on the subject of whether the resurrected saints are completely different people, or whether they're the same people; just resurrected with a better chance to live their lives well.  I'm of the latter school of thought.  Lewis, it seems, is not.  Related to that...

3. Lewis seems to imply that we need to sacrifice everything we've ever known, including our personhood, permanently, in order to make room for God.  This is a misunderstanding.  God is infinite.  If we needed to "make room" for him, we could only do it by ceasing to exist.  He seems to go back on this somewhat in the final chapter, but there's still the sense that the sacrifices of Christian life are permanent, not temporary, and that's not how I read Romans 8:11.  I've always taken that verse to mean that all the things we have to give up in this life; "kill" here on Earth for the sake of doing right, will be restored to the saints in paradise, once the risk of sin is past.

Still, as I said, none of these issues is too major, and none really tells too badly against this book.  Additionally, there's an analogy near the end of the book which, in my view, is potentially better than even the book's author seems to realize.  He describes the Christian faith is a sort of seed of evolution, like lumps on the back of a horse, which will eventually turn into wings, and give it the power to outstrip all the other horses in its ability to leap over barriers.  However, until they become functional wings, you won't notice much difference in its ability to leap barriers.

Now, the reason I say this is an even better analogy than he may have realized is that really, if a horse had incomplete, wing-like lumps on its back, it would, for the moment, be -less- capable of leaping over barriers, since it would be weighed down by those lumps.  We often feel ourselves weighed down by the burden of having to do right; the difficulty of moral values in the face of an enemy who cheats repeatedly, and the realization that we can't achieve victory on these terms.  We may even blame our faith for it.  However, if we stick it out, if we wait a while, those burdensome lumps will become beautiful wings, and will become, not a hindrance, but an advantage.  This, I think, shows some of the potential of this analogy.  It's beautiful.

If you want a basic grounding in Christianity, you could do a lot worse that to pick this book up and leaf through it.  It's got a lot of good answers, which you might just need someday when your kids start asking you big questions about life and the faith.

A Grief Observed

By C. S. Lewis

Catholic-ometer: 4 of 5

Enjoyability: 2.5 of 5

In addition to authoring the Chronicles of Narnia, C. S. Lewis also wrote a number of other good books about the various aspects of Christian life, and the major issues faced by Christianity in the modern age; most of which are even more problematic today.  Those books are enlightening, clever and informative.

This book, by contrast, is really more of a story about his own spiritual journey through a time of great difficulty for him; the passing away of his wife.  The book is therefore, not as instructive to serious students of theology, or to people trying to discern what the true Christian teachings about God, faith and the afterlife really are.  It does, however, paint a very vivid picture of what can go through the mind of a suffering Christian.

Chapter 1 is the chapter with all the insulting guesses about God.  When one suffers badly, one often does this.  Even very faithful people sometimes question whether God enjoys watching them suffer, or whether it's possible for God to be evil.  This diminishes through chapters 2 and 3, as Lewis continues to reflect on his loss, and to gradually recover from it.  Chapter 4 is clearly meant to end on a ray of hope.

I say "meant to," because I don't really believe that chapter 4 was written after the grief had passed.  Much of what Lewis suggests about souls, the afterlife and our relationship with God in this chapter is, I think, theologically-questionable.  In fact, I overcame many of these same questions and worries only very recently.

In a way, though, I think the fact that I can sympathise with Lewis on his journey of rediscovering the truths of the faith after a shattering tragedy makes it easier for me to appreciate what went into this book.  I just don't feel the finished product should be quoted as instructions on anything.

I've been in tough times, where I agonized over everything, and some of the stuff I wrote back then, I can barely stand to read anymore.  I think our worst writing comes out of the times when we suffer, and while I'm sure this book is a tremendous comfort to many people in their own times of suffering, I found it kind of tough to get through.

This may or may not be a reflection on the quality of the book, however.  Maybe I'm just not in the right kind of mood to appreciate it.  One thing's for sure; the issues raised in the various chapters of this book correspond very closely to the questions that I myself have worried over in the course of my own life; the issues that have gotten between me and the faith.

I guess that's a good point in favor of this book.  It seems to ask all the right questions.  I just wish it offered better answers to them.

Treasure in Clay

By Fulton J. Sheen

Catholic-ometer: 5 of 5

Enjoyability: 4 of 5

I give this book a perfect score for faithfulness, but with reservations.  Bishop Sheen is one of the finest and holiest teachers of the faith in recent history, but I've begun to notice a strain in some of his writings recently; a strain of calling things "bad" without there being anything really evil about them.

I'm not talking about his tendency to disparage himself.  Every saintly person has had that.  I'm also not talking about his teachings on what's a sin and what isn't.  These, in virtually all cases, have been quite correct.  However, when he criticizes himself for "not fasting enough," or "driving a cadillac," one is tempted to put the book down and go read something lighter.  God never said that we should seclude ourselves from all Earthly pleasures, and he certainly never said that the pleasures themselves were evil.  If read in the wrong state of mind, words like these could easily endanger the soul of a budding Catholic; even tempting them to give up the faith with the words "I could never be Catholic.  It was all about suffering and pain."  It is possible to make too much of the victimhood to which all people are called in this life; especially when speaking to a mixed audience.

I say this right off the bat, because I want to get it out of the way.  For the most part, I really enjoyed this book.  As I said, it was a little heavy at times, but enjoyable nonetheless.  It's an autobiography of Bishop Sheen, I suppose, although even in this, I'm afraid that whether you like it or not will depend entirely on how you approach the book.

You could approach it as a fan of Bishop Sheen's work, like I did.  If you do, you'll find it to be a satisfying compendium of his best and most often-recited stories and experiences from his life, arranged in an understandable order.  Bishop Sheen wrote as he talked; with a good sense of humor, a strong element of charity, and a nice flair for the dramatic to keep everything interesting and fun to read, and this was, by and large, how I found the book.  Dramatic at points, uplifting at other points, and just a lot of fun throughout.  This is why I rate it so highly.

However, there's another group of people who might rate it a bit differently, and that's historians and biographers.  It didn't bother me, but I feel I should point out that this biography is not written in a linear fashion, nor with any sort of strong, narrative sense behind it.  It's written, not like a single story, but like several, told from different perspectives.  I was reminded of the gospel accounts of the life of Our Lord, in a way.  This may turn off certain historians, who are more concerned with dates and figures than with perspectives.

Bishop Sheen also reveals nothing terribly new in this biography.  He offers no explanation of what happened to his career in later years, or what the real story was behind his alleged falling-out with certain others inside the church.  He says that this is because of the obligation of charity, which I actually agree with, but thrill-seekers and rumor-spreaders will need to look elsewhere.

However, in the course of the book, he also makes one statement which I absolutely disagree with; and this is not a common thing.  I agree with the vast majority of what he said and wrote over the course of his life.

Bishop Sheen writes, in this book, that one should always avoid exposing sins that go on within the church.  Now, if what he meant by that is "when someone does something to wrong you personally, don't make a fuss over it, or insist on justice in this life," he's quite correct, and should be applauded for his mercy and self-control.  However, it's far too easy to take these words, and mutate them into the situation that we have today; priests in open rebellion against church teaching, abuses being covered up by higher-ups, chancery officials making backroom deals with lobbying groups who oppose church teaching to keep from "hurting their feelings," etc...  These kinds of things absolutely give more scandal to the faithful when they're allowed to fester, and furthermore, a great many saints of the church fought ecclesial corruption whenever they could (Saint Bernard of Clairvaux springs immediately to mind.)

These factors contribute to the imperfect grade I give to this book.  They may just be me, wanting everything about the faith to be clean cut, and getting a little antsy whenever some word or phrase seems likely to encourage doubt or loss of faith, but these things did sort of bug me, even while I was enjoying this book.  It was a good book; no doubt, and I enjoyed it a lot.  I just feel like I could have enjoyed it more.

Life is Worth Living

By Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen

Catholic-ometer: 5 of 5

Enjoyability: 5 of 5

I wish I had more to say about this book, but it covers a completely different set of themes in each chapter, so there's just not much I can do to summarize it.  Still, here goes.

This is a book by Bishop Sheen, written by imperfectly transcribing a few dozen episodes of his classic show; Life is Worth Living.  I say "imperfectly," only because the transcriptions aren't strictly word-for-word.  It's really very well-done.

Now, that having been said, if you know anything about Bishop Sheen, you know what a clever wit and a powerful speaker he was, to say nothing of being one of the most honest and faithful Catholics in America.  Even his worst work is exceptionally-good, and this is some of his best; the strong, solid messages that kept millions and millions of Americans watching him week after week, even in a prime-time slot that competed with Frank Sinatra and Milton Berle.

The chapters of this book are well-divided into such topics as mothers, war, character-building, education, suffering, teenagers, prayer and tolerance (the last being one of my favorites, for debunking several myths about tolerance that we as a culture have been terminally suffering from since his death.)

I don't say this kind of thing often, but I really think that anyone who has any desire to see a truly balanced world view described (Catholic or otherwise) would benefit from reading this book.  It's Bishop Sheen at his finest and most faithful, and when you get down to it, you can't give a book a much bigger compliment than that.