Mere Christianity

Lewis now turns to the subject of Christian marriage, though he acknowledges that he has never been married and that Christian doctrines on the subject are unpopular. This is not a subject that he is particularly eager to delve into, but he recognizes that it is important.

Lewis explains that in Christianity, a husband and wife constitute a single organism not simply during sex, but at all times. This is why sex outside of marriage is sinful: it tries to isolate sexual union from the broader unity God intends. Marriage is also meant to be lifelong; though Lewis acknowledges that different churches vary in their views on divorce no church sees divorce as anything but a measure of last resort.

Because marriage involves vows, it also can't be separated from the Christian idea of justice. Lewis suggests that those who do not intend to keep such vows would perhaps be better living together unmarried. He knows that this is not a traditionally Christian statement but he believes it preferable to perjury. Of course, Lewis believes that couples that are in love have a natural inclination to bind themselves to promises. From a Christian perspective, however, this tendency is all the more evidence that such promises are part of God’s plan, and shouldn’t be thrown aside once initial infatuation has passed. Lewis further contends that there are benefits to marriage that don’t involve the feeling of “being in love,” such as providing a home for any children. Furthermore, while “being in love” is wonderful, it is a feeling, and feelings cannot be relied upon to last. However, ceasing to be in love is not the same as ceasing to love. Lewis elaborates that love is a commitment that should be retained during difficult periods.

Lewis knows that, because he is not married, people may discount his views. He accepts this, but says that such individuals should make sure that they are not judging him based on novels and films, which often create unrealistic expectations of being in love forever, or suggest that “falling in love” is something beyond personal control. This mindset causes people to leave existing relationships and embark on new ones, only to find that the initial excitement fizzles out once again; what’s more, it encourages people to view passing infatuations as something there’s no point trying to resist, thus turning them into something more serious than they originally were. By contrast, those who choose to abide by long-standing commitments will find new kinds of joys opening up to them.

Lewis then distinguishes between the Christian conception of marriage and the extent to which Christians should try to force these views on others, especially with regard to divorce. Since most British people are not Christians, Lewis feels they cannot be expected to live Christian lives. He suggests that there should be two distinct kinds of marriage: a legal form that could be dissolved more easily, and one governed by the Church.

Finally, Lewis turns to the promise that Christian wives make to obey their husband, arguing that there must be a “head” in a marriage in case disagreements arise; in these instances, someone must have the deciding vote. As for why that person should be the husband, Lewis questions whether there is a serious wish for this to be otherwise, noting that even women who wish to be the head of their own household criticize other women who are in that very same position. Furthermore, Lewis believes that a wife is more likely to prioritize the needs of her family, and that the husband is therefore better equipped to make decisions that impinge on the outside world.

Lewis observes that while people tend to think forgiveness is a good concept in the abstract, in practice it might be even more disliked than chastity. He imagines readers asking, “I wonder how you’d feel about forgiving the Gestapo if you were a Pole or a Jew?” (115), and acknowledges that he wonders the same thing. Nevertheless, the Christian injunction to forgive remains the same.

To that end, Lewis suggests that it is best to start out by forgiving those closest to us. We might also try to understand what it means to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Lewis notes that he does not feel any particular affection for himself, so it follows that one need not feel fond of their neighbor. Likewise, forgiving enemies does not mean concluding that they are not so bad after all; we can hate the things that our enemies do but still forgive them, in much the same way that we can hate many things about ourselves while still wishing ourselves the best. As Lewis puts it, “Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things” (117). This is the attitude he advises adopting towards others: one that pities them for their faults and hopes for their reform.

Lewis then clarifies that forgiveness does not entail an absence of punishment. Regarding the stipulation, “thou shalt not kill,” Lewis distinguishes between killing (e.g. the death penalty or deaths in combat) and murder, arguing that the commandment applies only to the latter.

On that note, Lewis anticipates readers asking what separates Christian morality from the ordinary view. In response, he reiterates that as Christians believe in eternal life, the emphasis must always be on the kind of people we are making ourselves into. Although there are times when it’s acceptable (and perhaps even necessary) to punish people for their actions, we must strive not to take pleasure in it, or to allow our feelings of hatred or resentment to flourish.  

Lewis turns to pride or self-conceit, which serves as the root of every other vice, and which is the lynchpin of Christian morality. It’s also universal, both in the sense that everyone is guilty of it, and in the sense that no one will admit to it (which is itself symptomatic of our self-love).

To support his claims, Lewis notes that pride is competitive, in that it involves wanting to be better—more successful, more powerful, more attractive, etc.—than others. In other words, pride is inherently intertwined with feelings of resentment, envy, and hatred. It also automatically places us at odds with God, who is “in every respect immeasurably superior to [ourselves]” (124). On that note, Lewis observes that those who claim superiority to others on the basis of their own religiosity aren’t really worshipping God at all, and it is a measure of how pernicious pride is that it can take on the trappings of Christianity. Lewis suggests that it is deeply misguided to appeal to an individual’s pride—a “spiritual” vice—in an attempt to stop them from engaging in the other, “animal” vices (125).

Lewis specifies that taking pleasure in being praised is not the same as pride, because in these moments, what makes us happy is the knowledge that we’ve pleased someone else; problems only arise when we start thinking how wonderful we must be to have elicited such a response. Relatedly, Lewis notes that vanity—that is, seeking the admiration of others—is actually a relatively trivial form of pride, since it reflects a concern for the opinions of others. Indifference to public opinion can be admirable if it reflects a greater concern with God’s opinion, but in many cases this indifference is simply narcissistic in nature.

Lewis also tackles the question of what it means to be proud of someone else, arguing that if “pride” in this context means warm admiration, it’s of course not sinful. However, he warns that we should take care not to love or admire anyone more than God—not because God is “proud,” but because He wants people to overcome the burden of pride and embrace humility as a positive feeling. As a result, a truly humble person likely won’t seem self-effacing or obsequious; they may just seem cheerful, modest, and as though they find it easy to enjoy life.