C.S. Lewis and Mere Christianity: 4:7–Let’s Pretend!

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Thus far in Book 4 of Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis has been trying to both lay out some basic concepts regarding the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, and then show how it impacts the way we understand time, eternity, and the Christian doctrine of salvation itself. In the previous chapter of 4:5, “Obstinate Toy Soldiers” (4:6 is simply a short side note that I am not addressing), Lewis gives us a picture of what it would be like if we were able to turn the toy figurines we had as children into actual people.

From the doll’s perspective, it would feel like you were, in fact, killing it. It wouldn’t understand what you were doing. And the thing is, in a sense you would be killing it—you’d be “killing off” the doll nature of the doll, and in turn giving it a new nature—a real human nature. And even though the end result would be a real human being, the process itself would probably be painful and confusing for the doll.

Let’s Pretend, and Pray, and Be Transformed

In this chapter, entitled “Let’s Pretend,” Lewis relates the first words of the Lord’s prayer to a common childhood activity in order to illustrate just what the Christian life entails. He begins, though, by referencing stories like Beauty and the Beast, where what begins as a hideous monster ends up becoming a handsome man; or a story where someone had to wear a mask that made him look nicer than he really was—but in the end, when he took off the mask, his face had grown to fit it, and he had become quite handsome. In stories like this, “What had begun as a disguise had become a reality.” That is why we like stories like these: they point to transformation—and deep down, we all yearn for transformation.

So what does that have to do with the Lord’s prayer? Well, the very first words are, “Our Father…” Lewis points out that when you say those words, you are putting yourself in the position of God’s Son—but the fact is, you aren’t God’s Son. You are actually pretending. Now, this kind of pretending isn’t a bad thing. It’s one thing to pretend to be someone you’re not in order to deceive someone; it’s quite another thing to pretend to be someone you hope to become in the future. Children do it all the time when they “play grown up.” I don’t know a high school athlete who hasn’t imagined himself his favorite sports star as he is practicing. Why do we do that? Because we hope that eventually what begins as mere pretending will eventually “rub off” on us, and we will actually become like that.

Imitation of Christ

Pretending to be like Christ is actually very similar to pretending to be your sports hero. When you do, you find yourself looking for ways to imitate him. You look at your own behavior (or your own game) and see flaws in it, and places to improve. I remember studying intently the wind-up of Sandy Koufax, and then trying to emulate his pitching form.

When it comes to imitating Christ, Lewis points out that what you find is that the real Son of God is at your side, slowly turning you into the same kind of thing as Himself. He is, if you will, “injecting” His Zoe life into your Bios nature, with the intent of letting that “good infection” work its way through you, so that your Bios “statue-like” life will be transformed into life that is capable of participating in the uncreated Zoe life of God Himself.

Lewis then anticipates a certain objection. One that says, “I’ve never had the sense of being helped by an invisible Christ, but I often have helped by other human beings.” Lewis’ response is quite clever: “That is rather like the woman in the first war who said that if there were a bread shortage it would not bother her house because they always ate toast. If there is no bread there will be not toast. If there were no help from Christ, there would be no help from other human beings.”

His point is quite simple: often times the way in which God helps us is through other human beings. That is why the Apostle Paul emphasized the idea that we are Christ’s body, that we are his hands and feet. That actually is the proper understanding of what the Church should be: the body of Christ—the instrument by which Christ transforms the lives of individuals and societies.

In any case, the final point Lewis makes about this slow transformation of becoming more Christ-like is this: we should expect to find that as we are becoming more Christ-like, that we notice more of our sinfulness. That doesn’t mean we find ourselves getting more bent out of shape over specific sins, but that we find ourselves becoming more aware of the shortcomings and sins of our very nature. Dealing with specific sins is one thing. With hard work, one can stop swearing, or lying, or whatever. Transformation of our very natures, though, that is something no individual can do with just hard work. And, as Lewis points out, it is on that level that we realize we cannot do it on our own.

Puppets on a String or Human Beings on a Journey

Lewis’ point is simple: as we pretend to be like Christ, we find Christ is there, slowly changing us from mere “puppets” to real, Christ-like human beings. We cannot effect the fundamental change ourselves, but we do participate in the transformation through obedience and humility…and of course, walking in faith.

When you think about it, that’s really the difference between “toy soldiers” or “puppets” on one hand, and actual human beings on the other. A puppet is always getting its strings pulled; it is at the mercy of the whims and wishes of what Paul calls the “cosmic powers of this present darkness” (Ephesians 6:12), this “present evil age” (Galatians 1:4), and the “god of this age” (II Corinthians 4:4).

In our natural, biological state, we are but mere puppets, and therefore slaves of the darker powers of this age. But God’s plan all along has been to transform us from our natural state into the supernatural reality of the Son of God, sharing in the life of the age to come. That is what is means to be a true human being: opening up to God, obeying Christ, and therefore consciously choosing to take part in the transformative journey of salvation.

So start pretending, Pinocchio…and start listening to that inner voice that says, “A real boy would do this…” Walk in that way—it is the life of faith. It is the journey of salvation. Become a son of God, and inherit God’s good creation.

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