C.S. Lewis: A Reason To Love Hard
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
— C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves, published in 1960

Some time ago I began to collect some of my favorite quotes by C.S. Lewis. It seemed an appropriate task in light of my current studies on beauty in the works of Lewis. And so I thought I'd begin a series in which I share those quotes while also providing some little bit of context. Thus, "Lewis in Context." Get out the ticker tape and rejoice, another blog series to attend! 

Onward. 

One of Lewis’s most quoted passages, and for obvious reasons. Lewis here, however, is working out a thoughtful reaction to a passage in St. Augustine’s Confessions. Augustine, who had just lost a dear friend writes: "Though left alone, he loses none dear to him; for all are dear in the one who cannot be lost.” (Confessions, Book IV; xiv)

Lewis paraphrases Augustine like this: “Do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose." Lewis, however, replies that to love at all is to hurt, to lose, to experience pain. The alternative is to turn to stone.

"The Conversion of Augustine," by Fra Angelico (c. 1395-1455)

"The Conversion of Augustine," by Fra Angelico (c. 1395-1455)

Lewis, unlike Augustine, does not discourage inordinate human love, but is simply making a comment about the smallness of our love for God. “It is the smallness of our love for God, not the greatness of our love for the man, that constitutes the inordinacy.” (p.122)

In other words,  According to Lewis, we should love, and love hard. If you don’t love, your heart will turn to stone, metaphorically of course. Reality shows us this. Augustine, in his grief, contemplated keeping his heart safe, but Lewis suggests this to be the wrong response.

He doesn't necessarily give Augustine much comfort but, perhaps, adjusts his view. The hurt does not come from loving man too much, but rather from not loving God enough. I wonder how many of us could really take this view to heart when dealing with real life pain? Would our pain lessen if we took our eyes off of ourselves? That is essentially what Lewis is suggesting. 

The hurt from interpersonal pain or loss tends to fall upon our own hearts, and the sting causes us to rethink how much of ourselves we give to others. Self-preservation kicks in. 

Lewis, however, says get out there and love; love with everything you have. But don't just love others with this kind of abandon, love God in this way too. The, perhaps, we'll see what happens to our pain in light of God's love for us and ours for him. 

I hope you enjoyed this little foray into 'Lewis in Context.' Sign up below and never miss my C.S. Lewis posts. 


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You want to weep and cheer at the same time. You come away empowered, fully alive. Timothy sets you down in these moments. Get caught up in them and watch yourself come to life.
— Lacey Sturm, platinum-selling musician and author of The Reason: How I Discovered a Life Worth Living

Tim's authored four books, including the children's book Shine So Bright and the critically acclaimed Veneer: Living Deeply in a Surface Society. He studied beauty in the works of C.S. Lewis for his PhD under Alister McGrath. When he's not scratching poetry, or chasing the scholar's craft, you can find him carving up the trails of the nearest national forest on his Salsa El Mariachi 29er.

He lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with his wife and three pixie-daughters, and two acres of Great Horned Owls.