TSL Chapter 15 -- Living In The Present

Summary

Screwtape returns to, and expounds on, an earlier theme of keeping The Patient focused on the future (or, failing that, the past), rather than the present. To this end, either fear or hope would work -- either keeps the mind fixated on what's to come instead of what's before it.

Screwtape also makes a strict distinction between the future (which is in time) and the eternal (which is beyond time). A focus on 'the eternal' is equally godly. Screwtape concedes that God allows some thought of tomorrow -- but just enough to plan virtuous outings (acts of justice or charity. Bruce Wayne would approve).

Finally, Screwtape addresses the phrase 'living in the present' -- as a common-wisdom term, it's usually wrong. 'Living in the Present' is likely either equanimity driven by a belief the future will be okay (in which case, it's just more of that sinful, earthly future-focus, although less alarming than fear) or it's a matter of a lack of reflection entirely: a human is healthy and enjoying himself -- in which case, while it's by no means Godly, it's still something a demon would want to quash.

Literary World Building

There's a bit of world-building here I want to acknowledge. Firstly Screwtape mentions the 'Philological Arm' of Hell -- presumably a bunch of demons who come up with clever words that can be used to put a good spin on a bad concept. "Living in the Present" is that kind of thing -- sounds good, but references a fallen, earthly state rather than an apparently-but-not-really-similar Godly state. Screwtape's example is "complacency" which maybe sounds good, but isn't.

One can imagine demoniacal linguists cunningly fabricating words to subvert the living.

Secondly, and more importantly: the whole concept of time and focus is something that I think a) Lewis is probably very much right about and b) is the kind of thing that appears implied by the Bible, but not explicitly stated.

As an eternal, timeless creature, it's just the sort of thing Screwtape would be extremely aware of, but it's also the kind of thing regular humans find odd. Screwtape's articulation of it not only demonstrates CSL's insight, but perfectly fits one of the most inhuman aspects of the character. Well done, Lewis!

My Reaction

"Give us this day, our daily bread," and Jesus's warnings about stockpiling resources imply a need for day-to-day dependency that precludes too much concern for the future. We're supposed to leave things up to God -- and should disaster we're unprepared for hit, to accept it as a welcome trial.

In other words: don't trust that God will take care of you -- act like he will, accepting that he might well not. In terms of worldly wisdom, this would be catastrophic irresponsibility: if I don't save money for my child's education and then -- surprise! -- no school! I'm supposed to pray for strength to accept my son's life of poverty. Likewise, rather than saving money for the proverbial rainy day (or major surgery), I should live paycheck-to-paycheck, and if an ear infection puts us all in the poorhouse (translation for modern day: the last car on the E-train), I should concentrate on lessons we'll all learn from those hardships.

As insane as this sounds, I think that that's a reasonable thing we're called for.

Typically people believe that God will provide. Or that He will provide except in those cases where he'll teach us something -- and those 'tests' will not be more than we can bear.

I recall a Christian I know saying (in a group discussion) he took comfort in the belief that when he "wasn't around" that God would take care of his family. I asked the group leader if God had stepped in front of the bullets aimed at children in Sandyhook Elementary School.

Evidently not.

As I said earlier in this blog, I believe terrible, mind-breaking things happen to Christians. Now maybe those people were faux-Christians, and God protects his own... but I find that even scarier -- that means if something really bad *does* happen to me, it means I'm damned.

I'd rather believe that God lets terrible things happen to us, and we're just supposed to smile and thank him and go on praying. As awful as it sounds, it's the lesser of two horrors.

I think I'm okay about not focusing too much on the future, but I recognize that I'm mostly fine because I think I can take care of most things that'll come (I can probably pay my bills. Probably). If tragedy were to strike, I think I'd be terrified -- I know (from experience), I'd ask God to help, but I'm equally certain that I'd expect nothing and instead of finding some inner, God-given Shalom or looking joyously forward to being closer to him, I suspect I'd just feel orphaned, devastated, and adrift.

Since tragedy is a when-not-an-if, I guess we'll just have to see.

A Question! I'm asked a Question! Existence: Validated!

One of the joys of having a blog is connect and communicate with other pilgrims on the same journey. In this case, I've shared this blog with a few folks I know and I've already made a connection!

And not just a view or two -- that validation that every blog author loves: a question!

As every writer knows, being asked a question is one of the ultimate forms of validation. It not only means that your work has touched someone intellectually and -- perhaps -- spiritually, but it means that the querent respects your knowledge and, I dare say, insight enough to value you as a source of enlightenment, even  (one imagines) furthering of their own spiritual journey.

In this spirit, and having just read a lesson on the virtue of Humility, I will now ponder the question I am asked.

Reader Marco, on October 15th asks:

"who would win in a fight? dracula vs. screwtape"

Dracula vs. Screwtape

A fight between Dracula and Screwtape would take place on both a spiritual and physical plane. To predict the outcome we have to look at both of these. Let's start with physical battle. 

Physical Warfare

Dracula has a physical form -- Screwtape is proud that he doesn't. Yes, Dracula can turn into mist, but that's still physical. It's moist. If you can feel it, there you go. You can't punch Screwtape, or kick him, or bite him, so Dracula's enhanced physical strength is no real advantage here.

But can Screwtape directly affect the physical plane? It's not entirely clear. In the book demons of his ilk don't (up to chapter 15), but that doesn't mean they can't -- they've been forbidden from directly showing their existence. Maybe they could manifest as a 20 meter tall flaming red man with a pitchfork...

But I doubt it. Biblically, spirits can take up residence in people. Even if Screwtape can't manifest in a physical way, he could probably possess someone (if he was willing to break orders) and have them lob garlic at Dracula. How effective this might be is anyone's guess, but it's probably not decisive.

Still...

 Advantage: Screwtape

Spiritual Warfare

Most of the battle would take place on the spiritual plane where it's not clear Dracula can really play. He has sort of hypnotic eyes, but he was able to make Renfield eat a bug... not so impressive.

On the other hand, Screwtape is a master of Spiritual warfare. He's able to see into men's souls and tempt them mercilessly. Dracula is all about the nubile maidens and blood so he's hardly beyond temptation. He'd be vulnerable to Screwtape's whispers and as a fallen, demonic creature, himself, he'd receive no divine protection.

Advantage: Screwtape

And the Winner Is...

Dracula, obviously. Screwtape is a mid-level bureaucrat who oversees a division dedicated to corrupting already-fallen, self-corrupting creatures with virtually no natural (or, for a great many of them) spiritual defenses against him. His whole deal is that he preys on the weak.

He's obviously chummy and comfortable, and quite confident in his abilities.

Dracula, on the other hand, is Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, who spent his life fighting wars with people waiting to betray or depose him and mostly winning. When he was captured, and imprisoned, he came back to rule again. He created forests of rotting bodies of his enemies. He's an expert in understanding the limits, limitations, and blind spots of the kinds of civilized, decadent creatures of the sort Screwtape is.

Here's how it plays out:

Wladislaus Dragwlya, vaivoda partium Transalpinarum, Son of the Dragon, Impaler Lord, invites Screwtape to his castle for a drink. Screwtape, who knows it's a trap, comes anyway because

1. He's a spirit and Vlad can't actually hurt him -- he has nothing to be afraid of
2. Although he denies it, he's flattered by the invitation and thinks it'll make him look good around the office. Vlad, after all, is freaking royalty and Screwtape, despite himself, is a Britt and Britts do love their royals, even sub-germanics
3. So he goes...
4. Screwtape arrives, floating ethereally, and makes subtle fun of Vlad as they talk. Screwtape considers just blasting the guy or getting inside his head, but that would be barbaric, so he holds off, figuring he'll tempt Vlad to stay out all night and join him for a bar-b-q and a good laugh at daybreak.
5. Old Slubgob, who's been hiding in the pantry, jumps out stabs Screwtape through his dark little heart with  deadly sliver of the True Cross, stolen from Rome by a corrupt Pope, and taped to the end of a fire-poker. As Screwtape expires on the floor, Slubgob thanks Vlad for giving him chance to get even with "That Guy Who Ran Me Down In His Book" and heads off for the Academy, while Vlad enjoys his victory with a carafe of O+

Well played, Slubgob. Well played.

TSL Chapter 14 -- By jove! I'm being humble!

Summary

Trouble in Wormwood-land continues. Not only has The Patient second-converted, but he's being more realistic about it this time. No grand promises to obey every law, no lavish visions of perpetual virtue. Uncle Screwtape diagnoses the problem in the second paragraph: The Patient has become...

Humble.

This is bad. But there are things that can be done. Firstly, make him aware of the problem, so that he can be proud of being humble, thus slipping into a vice. Secondly, if his self-hatred can be mutated into hatred of other selves, or an inordinate self focus, that would be just as good.

Another good strategy: have him be falsely humble about something he's actually good at. Then his own mind will destroy his (aspected) humility because it's patently absurd.

In the course of explaining humility, Screwtape has to explain God's view of it. He describes prefect humility as a state where the subject has no personal pride in his accomplishments at all, even as he is clear-headedly aware of them, and recognizes all creatures (even himself) as "glorious and excellent things," but without what he calls an "animal self-love."

God, once again, takes something away (self love) only to give it back in a pure-er form.

Or something.

My Reaction

God Gives You Back Self-Love

You can always tell when Screwtape is going start preaching God's word: he exclaims with obvious, italicized exasperation that God really loves the vermin / hairless-bipeds / etc.

His view of humans denuded of pride is instructive. It's inhuman, the way the idealized people of St. Thomas Moore's Utopia are -- we can sort of imagine that level of self-abnegation, but to actually practice it seems impossible without divine intervention.

I think this is right.

To be a disciple of Jesus, you have to hate your family -- as strange and alien as this sounds (and horrible), I think that it fits with what we're being told: that the new 'us' will be indistinguishable from the 'us' we know. And the new love will be very different from love as we view it in our fallen, corruptible state.

Self-hate and Abjection -- the virtues we want to see in others

I'm always skeptical of tracts telling me to be more humble -- they have the whiff of hypocrisy about them. I'm sure that CSL (and any nuanced, sophisticated preacher) would first start by exposing their own issues with humility and present the lecture as intended for "all of us," (or, like Paul, to declare one's self the 'worst sinner of all!') but that sort of positioning is fundamentally tactical:

To get up in front of someone (or to bang out a chapter on one's typewriter) about advice, one has to be fundamentally sure of one's own standing.

And rooting one's certainty in God's word isn't always a cure. How many sports heroes are quick to credit God for their outstanding athletics? And how many really live lives of true humility?

I'm afraid I'm not buying it.

I think that the true test of humility is seen, not in disclaimers, but in how seriously one takes one's self. Certainty, triumphalism, and a scolding judgmental tone are often give-aways that the speaker takes himself pretty seriously. Not being able to take a joke, or seeing one's activities as centrally important are likewise, giveaways.

I think CSL reasonably passes these tests: he's not extremely humble, but he approaches this material with a sense of humor that -- I think -- reveals a bit of honest humility. And while I suspect that he might commit the sin of being proud of his humility, he at least calls this out in what feels like a self-directed barb.

TSL Chapter 13 -- a walk through country he really likes

Summary

Bad news! Wormwood has blown it big-time, and Uncle Screwtape is there to let him know it. The Patient went for a walk in the country and read a good book and those Honest, Simple Pleasures (my caps on Honest & Simple, but Screwtape's on the 'P') re-awakened his Christian spirit.

Screwtape calls this tantamount to a "second conversion" and probably a deeper one than the first! What to do?

Screwtape, for once, is somewhat lacking on the practical advise front -- he more or less just scolds and lectures Wormwood, saving his pragmatic ideas for the next chapter. He does provide some warnings about keeping the target disconnected from the real and distrusting honest pleasures, even if they're not Godly.

He concludes with a bit of advice -- that perhaps the best way to keep someone in the realm of the imaginary and away from the real is to have them "write a book" about whatever it is they think they have a passion for.

My Reaction

Imaginary Distresses & Vanity, Bustle, Irony and Expensive Tedium as Pleasures

Screwtape echoes his earlier advice about keeping the target in the realm of the imaginary and out of action of any kind, advising keeping the Patient 'of the World but not in it,' so-to-speak.

I liked this. And I like that CSL isn't against intellectualism, per se -- finding a book (a purely intellectual pursuit) purely and legitimately Pleasurable works for him, but is very much against 'imaginary' pleasures -- which in this case are things that aren't really pleasures. Or are pleasures born of sin (e.g. prideful feelings coming from reading a trendy book).

This seems like a pretty well aligned with my experience -- imagining something is easier than doing it. A good deal of my daily workout is imaginary.

Simple Pleasures

I'm not quite as taken with CSL's embrace of simple pleasures. While he doesn't seriously misstep, the pleasures he lists are things like walks in the country, stamp collecting, country cricket, and tripe & onions.

He contrasts those to pleasures of vanity, and he does include reading a book... but taken with his examples of Butchers and Grocers, it's getting a little bit God's Country / Salt of the Earth here. Surely there are some honest, simple pleasures commonly enjoyed by Oxford academics, no?

God (really) Gives you back ALL (every bit of) your Personality

Demons and God both try to break a man from himself, but God (who loves men) gives them back their personalities -- once they've joined him.

Uh huh -- and all the having Screwtape call people vermin doesn't do much of anything to make this more credible. 

It might be that CSL is reading some Biblical passage about how we'll get our original (um... fallen) personalities back when we're in Heaven, but I sincerely doubt it.

• Firstly, if our personalities were any good, we wouldn't need to shed them. It's not about making better people, it's about making *new* people, right? (didn't someone say that)? Once you get rid of vanity, greed, and sloth, I'm not sure how much of the original 'me' is left...
• Secondly, once we're in Heaven, we're going to look down, like Abraham, across a vast gulf and see people we liked, if not our loved ones, looking up from Hell, begging us for a drop of water and instead of helping them, we'll scold them righteously for being so evil during life. 
• Or maybe we'll be like Lazarus, and be so blissed out that we don't even notice our friends suffering (Dude... can you turn down the screaming? I'm trying to listen to the harp music...). Either way, that... doesn't sound like me.

I skeptical that we get our personalities back. I think CSL recognizes how horrible this sounds to us, and feels the need to jump in and comfort anyone who thinks being turned into some new, eternal person sounds frightening or like something a Loving God wouldn't do.

I don't like this kind of apologism -- it bothers me. I don't think God's love is recognizably human. That's terrifying, but I can't reach any other conclusion. When we think of God 'loving us' it's not the way our parents love us or how we love our children.

It's some vast, different, potentially horrifying kind of love that might result in our eternal damnation.

I feel like CSL here is trying to sugarcoat that.

TSL Chapter 12 -- A dead fire in a cold room

Summary

Wormwood's patient has been drifting "out of his orbit around the Enemy" and slowly heading into the "cold and dark" of "utmost space."

He's carried by his own unawareness that his Christian zeal is fading, even as he takes communion and dutifully attends church. These habits lull him into believing in his salvation, even as he's more and more damned with each passing day.

Screwtape warns Wormwood that he should be careful to keep The Patient from thinking about his relationship with God -- which is enabled because The Patient will naturally avoid things that make him feel convicted. In a best case (worst case) scenario, The Patient will withdraw completely, filling his world with dull, cold, joyless trivia, and finally arrive in Hell having found no pleasure in the world at all.

Screwtape closes with a reminder that small sins will damn a man as finally as big ones, and are safer because they give no outward indication of the man's progress toward the infernal.

My Reaction

Flight from Salvation

As I've already said, I quite believe that people avoid God, and see that in my self. My attempts to pray for "5 minutes" in the morning are an abject failure. I find even five minutes pretty undo-able, and 5 minutes was a compromise from the suggested "30 minutes," which I recognized as intolerable.

Screwtape would be gratified.

Is Disease Sin?

What struck me here, though, was I recognized the phenomena that Screwtape describes as depression. It's not for certain -- maybe what we think of as "clinical depression" is a different kind of thing than the state of being damned... but the internal and external signs are clearly there: a loss of joy in the world, a withdrawal, a sense of being profoundly disconnected.

I'm not depressive and never have been -- so I don't recognize these things from personal experience -- but I know them from people in my life and from reading, and I'm reasonably certain I know depression when I see it in print.

Screwtape, here, implies that depression is a result of a decision to withdraw from God to avoid feeling guilty. In other words, a sin. Today, Western Medicine thinks of depression as a neurological malfunction and something that is (potentially) treatable with medicine.  But back when CSL was writing this, that view of neurology was nascent, if it existed at all (I would categorize the psychoanalytic model as a substantially different model of mental dysfunction).

So what gives? We can be held accountable for decisions made freely, but if there's something wrong with the brain that compromises (or appears to compromise) our free will, what then?

Can we be damned for thoughts or conditions we can't control? There's no way to know. I don't think the bible addresses this at all -- subtle mental illness and any kind of neurological determinism is not really a biblical concept, from what I can see.

Looking at modern writing (that is, anything written in or translated into English), I see two distinct possibilities.

No, of Course Not (The comforting possibility)

From a modern perspective the idea of damning someone because of mental conditions beyond their control is unjust -- c.f. the insanity defense. Since God is just, He would never do such a thing. Q.E.D.

I suspect that if I were a depressed person, that's what I'd be told -- and I'd be reminded that God is capable of curing sicknesses (including, explicitly, in some people's experiences) depression, and invited to pray for deliverance.

Also, children and babies who die before they can accept Jesus are given an exemption and saved from Hell -- because, due to immaturity, it would be unfair to condemn them.

Yes. You're Accountable No Matter What (the scary possibility)

The comforting possibility is the one we dearly hope is true, but it's founded in a human sense of Justice and we know that although our sense of what's Just might emanate from God, it isn't always flawless.

Maybe our 'disease model' is wrong, and depression isn't a physical (neurological) problem, but just a failure to man up and get outside and do something. Maybe (as CSL suggests), it's more a moral failing than a weakness of the flesh -- and something that is best addressed with sincere contrition.

In this view, we shouldn't be comforting a depressed person -- we should be gently telling them to take accountability for their condition and to seek God in the hope that he will help them lift their own spirits and bring them around. Telling depressed people they're responsible for their own numbing sadness is very much out of favor these days, but if that is merely Worldly Wisdom, maybe the mental health community is in league with the Devil.

CSL might well agree with that.

Even Scarier

There's one possibility I've run into that's even worse: If God knows everything, and destiny is pre-determined, then it's quite possible that He simply prevents children who would have grown up to be saved Christians from dying before their baptism, and prevents the Elect from having mental malfunctions that would lead them away from Salvation.

In this view crib death and depression can still be basic physical phenomena and, like the instruction in James, they're just litmus tests for salvation -- if you're depressed (and you don't get better), it's because you're Reprobate, Sinner. Get thee to Hell.

Interestingly, this is exactly the sort of thing people with depression tell themselves. In the 'comforting view' above, it's either a manifestation of the sickness -- or even the whispers of demons trying to make someone miserable and in doubt of their salvation. But what if that was just wishful thinking, and the agony and hopelessness a depressed person feels is exactly what the Depressions claims to be: unvarnished Truth of the sort CSL is trying to give is in his book?

This is absolutely terrifying and horrific, but it's quite nicely aligned certain views of Election that suggests God's love would be manifest as earthly success of practicing Christians.

This is terrifying because it suggests that horrible things quite beyond our control can condemn us -- but it's really just a re-iteration of the idea of Election: our salvation is beyond control; people are condemned because that's what happens. 

If this is not comforting... well, there's not much comfort in our cosmology, is there?

A dead fire in a cold room, indeed

TSL 33% Retrospective!

I'm about a third of the way through The Screwtape Letters, and I think it's a good time to look back and see what I've learned and what I think, etc. As always, Clint Eastwood provides the proper taxonomy for a holistic evaluation of anything.

At 11 chapters read, we can look at the morals in order

1. Hard science is Godly, soft science -- not so much
2. Not-so-persevering saints -- even Christians can be damned if they're 'Christians'
3. Praying for idealized (and therefore imaginary) people doesn't work, and contempt is bad for relationships
4. Actual prayer does work, though -- so long as it's aimed at God and not a Papier Mâché God. Also: People don't really want divine intervention, probably
5. War: Not as good for Satan as you might have thought. (No Atheists in Foxholes, etc.)
6. Imaginary virtues aren't really virtues at all. That virtue you thought you had? Probably imaginary.
7. The Masquerade, also don't be an extremists in anything but Love of God
8. The Law of Undulation -- people move in cycles
9. A Moderated Religion is No Religion at all. Also, forbidden pleasures are more tempting when people are at low ebb
10. Don't be friends with trendy atheists
11. Flippancy & Irony are damning and don't justify bad behavior by saying, "Hey, man -- it was just a joke!"

The Good

There's a lot of good here. If the theology isn't exactly Calvinist (and in some ways glaringly not so), the practical implications line up with Calvinism well enough that it might as well be. This stuff is meant to be instructional and it is. I can usually find some nits to pick but as I read through the 11 chapters of advice, I don't find much to disagree with.

I also like the world and the character voices. The idea of a huge demoniacal bureaucracy full of reserved, even polite demons carrying out a highly civilized war against Heaven where, even in private missives, their manner is cultured and diplomatic is both amusing and intriguing. The parallels with a chummy, if somewhat socially competitive academic environment are equally interesting. Screwtape and his ilk are remarkably relate-able for  a minion of infinite darkness.

I'd like to see more of this world -- I'd even like to see a story or two set there.

The Bad

Despite a charming world and an author who writes his characters well, it's still a big edifying plate of vegetables -- more than a decade ago I brought and read it, but my recall is very limited. I suspect that around chapter 3 or so, I tired of being lectured at, and skimmed the rest for anything really interesting about the world or characters.

While I could recommend it on its merits as a lecture series, I would have to caveat that by saying, it feels a bit like a daily scolding.

One would think that the assurances of Calvinism would mitigate that somewhat (in theory, we shouldn't fear Hell the way Anglicans do: we, like them, slip up from time to time, but unlike the Anglicans our souls are not in mortal peril from our mistakes -- Calvinist Saints persevere!), but in practice, it's the same deal: when we slip, we should take that as a warning that our souls may not be as saved as we would like to presume: in Calvinism, James is not exhorting us to do better, he's instructing us on the mortal signs of damnation -- teaching us how to identify the 'Saints' among us who, it turns out, are not Saints at all. And should we read James and take any comfort in the belief that we, ourselves, are moving toward the Christian ideal, Screwtape is quick and consistent in his reminders that Humans excel at deluding themselves about their own virtue and safety.

In practice, the difference in theologies makes things worse for the Calvinist, who might be damned and if he is, there's literally nothing he can do about it. 

The Ugly

Doubt in one's salvation, from a Calvinist perspective, makes the whole thing somewhat dreary and disturbing. Of course some of this is a requirement for the narrative: a Calvinist Screwtape Letters would have the demons sitting around watching passively as the Celestial Sorting Algorithm inexorably moves the Elect into Heaven and the Reprobate into Hell.

No action on their part would be required because individual humans' fate would be determined by the incomprehensible and the ineffable. Not much of a story there.

This whole thing becomes a bit alarming -- but worse, it raises the question of the pillar from which the author lectures: the only point of reality we have is the Bible. However flawed our ability to understand it is, it's the only source of guidance and truth in the universe. As we extrapolate from there, we inevitably create errors.

I think a huge source of these errors comes from trying to logically understand concepts like eternal damnation -- particularly in the context of something like a story where it has to hold together in a human-understandable way.

While Lewis doesn't show his proof, I think it's fair to say it's something like this:

1. God allows humans to be damned and suffer forever because of their decisions
2. This must mean that God values allowing humans to make such critical decisions more than he values the safety of their souls and their eternal well being
3. Since we're talking about an infinity of pain and despair, he must value something called 'free will' to an infinite level

That's logical -- it justifies damnation -- but I don't think it follows. And my (ignorant layman's) read of the bible doesn't help: in some passages we choose (Joshua). In others, we have no choice (Ephesians). Human exegesis tries to split those atoms, but I think that runs into the same set of errors the logician makes: we might find a consistent and logical interpretation of different verses, but it's based on human logic.

In the end, I think that human articulations of God's values or plans are fine in fiction, but when Lewis aspires toward apology that requires what I suspect is an unwarranted faith in his own reason... and that makes the whole exercise just a very little bit ugly

TSL Chapter 11 -- The Causes of Human Laughter

Overview

The Patient is laughing it up with his new skeptical, blasphemous friends cuing Uncle Screwtape to tackle the causes and utility of human laughter, itself. He finds a four-part taxonomy from the least useful (in damning people) to the most-useful:

1. Joy
2. Fun
3. the Joke Proper
4. Flippancy

Joy is pure love of life (maybe with an actual joke or funny saying as a pretext for laughter). It's useless for the damning.

Fun is a slightly less pure form of Joy -- it arises from the "playfulness" instinct and can be used to divert humans from their responsibilities, but is otherwise not very demonic: it tends to promote virtues rather than vices.

The Joke Proper can be somewhat useful: people can tell dirty jokes (the term Screwtape uses is "indecent or bawdy" proving that while devils may enjoy tempting humans to be vulgar they decline to be so, themselves). More-so, it can be used to cover for bad behavior -- cruelty, cowardice, or other vices. A clever human will pass off such actions as "a joke" and find them both guiltless and shameless (i.e. socially acceptable).

But the big money's in Flippancy, which I would call "Irony" is almost a worldview in itself and aims skepticism and contempt at virtue itself. In finding virtue and authenticity funny, Flippancy becomes an armor against God.

Literature -- The realism, dignity and austerity of Hell

Hell takes itself seriously and has a good deal of pride in its appearance (maybe explaining why Screwtape is such a prude). We've seen this before in asides where Screwtape complains about God's love of humans and his creation of them as half-spirit / half-animal abominations he calls "amphibians." God has no Pride, does not hold himself above the mortal realm (or at least not with the contempt the Devils feel for it), and in doing so offends the demonic hosts.

I like this. It feels very much right -- and works with a worldview that could be aware of God while setting themselves against Him.

Theology / My Reaction

Save the Hipsters?

I don't have any idea what the Bible says about flippancy / irony. I suspect that it wasn't a huge deal back then and might not have rated highly in terms of warning people. That said, I believe it's corrosive and I think the description of it as "armor" is dead-on.

In my experience, people use flippancy defensively -- to distance themselves from others and proactively shield themselves from criticism (I'm not uncool -- I'm making fun of people who think this is cool).

According to the media, this is a problem of epidemic proportions in the population known as "hipsters." I doubt this is the truth, because it's the sort of thing the media is awfully bad at getting right, but I can believe that irony and flippancy and finding virtue and authenticity laughable is bad for one's soul.

So save the hipsters, I guess?

I was just joking!

I'm also down with CSL / Screwtape on this one. You're too sensitive / I was just joking / etc. excuses nothing. If I do something that's hurting someone, even if I sincerely didn't mean to, I need to cut it out and I should consider an apology: if, upon reflection, I should have known better, they're owed one.

If I keep doing it, I'm being an ass.

This goes for things covered as jokes, but also goes for non-joke politically-incorrect terminology. And yes, that may mean that I'm held hostage in my right to tell the kinds of jokes I find funny in mixed company or whatever, but if I'm more worried about my rights to tell The One About the Pizza, than how the people around me feel then I'm back to being an ass.

It's my right to be an ass -- I have freedom of the speech and everything -- but if I'm concerned about my Immortal Soul, I probably shouldn't be screaming about my entitlements. 

TSL Chapter 10 -- Desirable New Acquaintances

Chapter Summary

That old scoundrel Triptweeze has informed Uncle that Worm's patient has made some new friends. These are fashionably intellectual skeptics who will clearly be good (bad) influence on The Patient -- he will, desiring their approval, become shallow, cynical, and trendily flippant just like they are.

So opposed are these new influences to The Patient's Christian values that Screwtape urges Wormwood to work hard to ensure that The Patient doesn't realize how fundamentally opposed he is to them and that when he does, to make sure he doesn't cut ties immediately. As always, Screwtape has practical advice to offer:

Not so much in how to prevent the patient from realizing the grave disconnect, but to make sure that when the Patient does realize his problem he either doesn't think of it when they're around, or -- and this is better -- to have the guy gleefully understand how out of integrity is when he hangs out with the intelligentsia. Or maybe think he's doing them some good with his presence.

Meanwhile Screwtape suggests that Wormwood inspire the guy to overspend and neglect mom.

Literature & Theology

I found this fascinating: Who are these dreadful people -- people whose sins and values are so anti-Christian that even hanging out with them imperils the soul and even as mild and tentative a Christian as The Patient (who is also a bit of an idiot) cannot help but realize how foul and antithetical these folks are?

Are they criminal? Cruel? Perverse? Are they idolaters who worship at the alter of Marxism or Pacifism? Are they pagans?

None of the above. These Agents of Damnation are

• Rich
• Smart
• Superficially intellectual
• Brightly skeptical (about everything in the world)

And while they may have some ideology, there's no sign that their vague pacifism and "purely fashionable and literary communism" is anything but the same superficiality they bring to their intellectualism.

We learn later that to fit in with their "urbane and mocking" world The Patient he will have to assume a manner with "cynical and skeptical" attitudes which will eventually become sincere.

Oh, and these Sirens of Worldly Culture people are "middle aged" and "married."

What the heck is going on here? Why are these folks so extremely bad and dangerous that not only are they damned but they're in danger of sucking down those around them, like a great ship sinking[1]?

I have to admit, I'm not sure. I will examine two theories:

Theory One: Damned by the Every Day

Theory One is that CSL recognizes that his target audience is more likely to have trendy intellectual friends than criminal perverts. He aims his warnings at the every day, not the dramatic:

For his lecture on Choosing the Right Friends, he's chosen the sorts of people he thinks his readers might have for friends. If he chose extreme examples, his reader would chuckle and shake his head, self-satisfied and secure that he has no friends like that.

This is probably part of the picture, but I don't think it covers all the waterfront. For one thing, CSL doesn't see a need to explain their crimes. They're almost certainly atheists, but the problem isn't their theology -- it's their worldliness and extreme seductivity.

Also, he contrasts them to The Grocer -- a simple, Godly man who kneels beside The Patient in Church. I mean, let's face it: the Grocer is probably just as doomed as The Patient is (which is to say, in peril until he's dead), but here he represents the polar opposite of the Temptations of the World. In an earlier chapter it was the greasy looking Butcher who would cut a faintly ridiculous figure when seen in Church handing out pamphlets his simple mind couldn't quite understand.

I think this is key.

Theory Two: Damn those Skeptics!

What's so bad about these people? Sure they're worldly, but most of The Patient's friends probably are. If they were presented as extremists in some way (Commies), then they'd be obvious idolaters and that would answer the question. 

I think the problem is their skepticism, which is probably expressed as an unconsidered agnosticism or even an explicit atheism (although he doesn't use the term). Firstly, CSL/Screwtape uses invokes skepticism twice, and secondly that's only area where their nature becomes sinful.

Being rich isn't a sin[2]. Being smart can't be bad. Superficial affectations are the polar opposite of idolatry, so their trendy communism and pacifism can't be that damning. That leaves being middle aged and married and the skepticism.

Theory Three: Damn those Intellectuals in the English Department!

One of the joys or writing fiction from a God's Eye PoV, is the opportunity to put your enemies in Hell. This dates back to Dante, and it would be surprising if CSL was completely above it. I bet the English Department in Oxford was full of mocking, laughing, intellectual (well, you know, superficially intellectual) sophisticates with progressive liberal values and a good dose of class-ism who would not have been sympathetic to Lewis's conversion or thought well of the simple working class folk he'd kneel with in Church.

There's no way to prove this, but the chapter feels like a bit of a Take That at the intellectuals who would have been his colleagues.

The Aesop

The moral here is really that you don't sell out your beliefs for the approval of your friends (whoever they are) and that if you have worldly friends (and believe me, you do -- even if you're hanging with the Butcher or the Grocer), you'll probably have to do some selling out to fit in with them.

This is true and it's a good reminder. I recall being uncomfortable when a guy I was with asked me incredulously, point blank, if I believed in the Resurrection in front of a bunch of secular Jewish folks I was hanging out with. I said I did and he dropped it was the sort of thing that could have been quite divisive and unpleasant.

But I wonder what the remedy is. Screwtape and Mom both remind us we should Choose our Friends Wisely, but does that mean that we shouldn't consort with anyone who doesn't match our values? Maybe -- or maybe we should hang out with them but not for friendship, only to convert them. I have a good, observant Jewish friend I used to work with and still see regularly. We spoke today and I'm looking forward to seeing him next week. Have I chosen poorly?

I guess I'll find out one day.

[1] Myth Busted -- according to Justified.

[2] We hope. Since we're all rich by 0 A.D. and by 2013 global standards, by virtue of living in the US, we dearly hope that business about the eye of the needle isn't all that literal, or that it just means you can't buy your way in, or something about that small gate or that rock you have crawl under or whatever.

TSL Chapter 9 -- Present Dryness

Overview

Since CSL didn't title his chapters, I'll do it for him. In Chapter Nine Screwtape proves that he's a demon of his word by carrying through on his promise to tell Wormwood how to exploit the down cycles of a human's Undulation.

He suggests that vices (sex, drink) are more tempting when a man's inner world is "drab and cold and empty" but warns that pleasure, at its core, is a Godly invention. No matter -- demons can make good use of it, by distorting or perverting natural pleasures into unGodly ones.

He also cautions Wormwood to make sure his target never suspects the natural cycle of things, but rather despairs or accepts a low-grade "moderated" religion, which is "as good" as "no religion at all."

Finally, he suggests that Wormwood encourage The Patient to think of his Christianity as a  phase that he has grown out of -- a childish thing he has left behind.

Literature

Demons engage in Research and Development -- although they're not very good at it. Apparently they have been trying to engineer some new pleasures but haven't been successful.

He also points out that, style-wise, it's best to damn a man having given him nothing in return. We knew demons were sadistic -- now we know they're petty!

Theology

A moderated religion is no religion at all -- or to put it another way: if you're lukewarm, you'll be spat out.

In Anglican theology (CSLs) I read this as a warning to be committed with the attendant dangers of being uncommitted being eternal damnation (and ultimately being part of Satan).

In Calvinist theology, it's more of a litmus test for salvation: if you're moderate / lukewarm, then it may be a sign you're not actually saved (or maybe just a sign you need to grow more).

In both, it's a bad sign and something that requires divine intervention to resolve. CSL notes that a surefire way to capture a human soul is to set someone on the quixotic task of regaining their dedication and passion through their own will. Human willpower may be required, but isn't sufficient.

My Reaction

I read these (and other) condemnations of moderate or "moderated" or lukewarm religion and I see myself in that category.

I can sort of imagine what I might look like if I were "hot" -- but my image is exhausting and somewhat dismal. I suspect it's possibly the result of some erroneous assumptions.

More importantly, when I see lukewarmness in myself, instead of feeling inspired to do better and push on toward hot-ness, I tend to feel sullen and demoralized: yeah... I probably *should*... I mean, heck, I'd like to be 'hot!' But what's it going to matter anyway? I'll just undulate back down and I'm probably damned / doomed anyway, and it sounds like no-fun-at-all.

I think I'll pass. If my Immortal Soul's taken care of, it's all good and if it isn't? Nothing I can do will make a difference anyway...

That kind of uninspired reaction probably wasn't what CSL was looking for -- although maybe it was; maybe he'd be pleased to know his barbs are hitting their intended targets.