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Hi everyone, my name is Chris
Fogel and I'm a writer and a pastor. You probably know that the two
installments before this had scriptures tied in since they
were Bible studies, but my plan from here on out is to do a straight
read from mere Christianity and get as much of it loaded as possible.
We're in the beginning stages of COVID-19 and I think we could
use, not so much a distraction, but a healthy way to redeem the
time. I'm really excited about our
first chapter, which is technically chapter 2 of book 2, but for
our purposes is chapter 7, because I think this chapter may be the
best one yet. As I prepped reading, I loved
how God is a contrariety, as Ravi Zacharias might say. Lewis
blew my mind with how poorly matched evil is against good,
and he makes a pretty solid point for church attendance. But I
hate spoilers, and I don't want to waste your time, so here we
go. Chapter 7 is called The Invasion. Very well, then. Atheism is too
simple. And I will tell you another view
that is also too simple. It is the view I call Christianity
in water. The view which simply says there
is a good God in heaven and everything is alright, leaving out all the
difficult and terrible doctrines about sin and hell and the devil
and the redemption. Both these are boys' philosophies. It is no good asking for a simple
religion. After all, real things are not
simple. They look simple, but they are
not. The table I'm sitting at looks simple, but ask a scientist
to tell you what it is really made of. all about the atoms
and how the light waves rebound from them and hit my eye and
what they do to the optic nerve and what it does to my brain,
and of course, you find that what we call seeing a table lands
you in mysteries and complications which you can hardly get to the
end of. A child saying a child's prayer looks simple, and if you
are content to stop there, well and good. But if you are not,
and the modern world usually is not, If you want to go on
and ask what is really happening, then you must be prepared for
something difficult. If we ask for something more
than simplicity, it is silly then to complain that the something
more is not simple. Very often, however, this silly
procedure is adopted by people who are not silly, but who, consciously
or unconsciously, want to destroy Christianity. Such people put
up a version of Christianity suitable for a child of six and
make that the object of their attack. When you try to explain
the Christian doctrine as it is really held by an instructed
adult, They then complain that you're making their heads turn
around, and that all is too complicated, and that if there really were
a god, they are sure he would have made religion simple, because
simplicity is so beautiful, etc. You must be on your guard against
these people. for they will change their ground every minute and
only waste your time. Notice, too, their idea of God
making religion simple, as if religion were something God invented
and not His statement to us of certain, quite unalterable facts
about His own nature. Besides being complicated, Reality,
in my experience, is usually odd. It is not neat, not obvious,
not what you would expect. For instance, when you have grasped
that the Earth and the other planets all go around the Sun,
you would naturally expect that all the planets were made to
match, all at equal distances from each other, say, or distances
that regularly increased, or all the same size, or else getting
bigger or smaller as you go further from the Sun. In fact, you find
no rhyme or reason, that we can see, about either the sizes or
the distances, and some of them have one moon, one has four,
one has two, some have none, one has a ring. Reality, in fact,
is usually something you could not have guessed. That is one
of the reasons I believe Christianity. It is a religion you could not
have guessed. If it offered us just the kind
of universe we had always expected, I should feel we were making
it up. But in fact, it is not the sort of thing anyone would
have made up. It has just that queer twist
about it that real things have. So let us leave behind all these
boys' philosophies, these over-simple answers. The problem is not simple,
and the answer is not going to be simple either. What is the
problem? A universe that contains much
that is obviously bad and apparently meaningless, but containing creatures
like ourselves who know that it is bad and meaningless. There
are only two views that face all the facts. One is the Christian
view that this is a good world that has gone wrong, but still
retains the memory of what it ought to have been. The other
is the view called dualism. Dualism means the belief that
there are two equal and independent powers at the back of everything,
one of them good, the other bad, and that this universe is the
battlefield in which they fight out an endless war. I personally
think that, next to Christianity, dualism is the manliest and most
sensible creed on the market. but it has a catch in it. The
two powers, or spirits or gods, the good one and the bad one,
are supposed to be quite independent. They both existed from all eternity. Neither of them made the other.
Neither of them has any more right than the other to call
itself God. Each presumably thinks it is
good and thinks the other bad. One of them likes hatred and
cruelty, the other likes love and mercy, and each backs in
its own view. Now, what do we mean when we
call one of the good power and the other the bad power? Either
we are merely saying that we happen to prefer the one to the
other, like preferring beer to cider, or else we are saying
that whatever the two powers think about it, and whichever
we humans, at the moment, happen to like, one of them is actually
wrong, actually mistaken, it regarding itself as good. Now, if we mean merely that we
happen to prefer the first, then we must give up talking about
good and evil at all, for good means what you ought to prefer
quite regardless of what you happen to like at any moment.
If being good meant simply joining the side you happen to fancy
for no real reason, then good would not deserve to be called
good. So we must mean that one of the two powers is actually
wrong and the other actually right. But the moment you say
that, you're putting into the universe a third thing in addition
to the two powers, some law or standard or rule of good which
one of the powers conforms to and the other fails to conform
to. But since the two powers are judged by this standard,
then this standard, or the being who made this standard, is farther
back and higher up than either of them, and he will be the real
God. In fact, what we meant by calling
them good and bad turns out to be that one of them is in a right
relation to the real, ultimate God, and the other in a wrong
relation to him. The same point can be made in
a different way. If dualism is true, then the
bad power must be a being who likes badness for its own sake. But in reality, we have no experience
of anyone liking badness just because it is bad. The nearest
we can get to that is cruelty. But in real life, people are
cruel for one of two reasons. Either because they are sadists,
that is, because they have a sexual perversion which makes cruelty
a cause of sensual pleasure to them, or else, for the sake of
something they are going to get out of it, money or power or
safety. But pleasure, money, power, and
safety are all, as far as they go, good things. The badness
consists in pursuing them by the wrong method, or in the wrong
way, or too much. I do not mean, of course, that
the people who do this are not desperately wicked. I do mean
that wickedness, when you examine it, turns out to be the pursuit
of some good in the wrong way. You can go good, excuse me, you
can be good for the mere sake of goodness. You cannot be bad
for the mere sake of badness. You can do a kind action when
you are not feeling kind and when it gives you no pleasure,
simply because kindness is right. But no one ever did a cruel action
simply because cruelty is wrong, only because cruelty was pleasant
or useful to him. In other words, badness cannot
succeed even in being bad in the same way in which goodness
is good. Goodness is, so to speak, itself. Badness is only spoiled goodness,
and there must be something good first before it can be spoiled. We call sadism a sexual perversion,
but you must first have the idea of a normal sexuality before
you can talk of it being perverted, and you can see which is the
perversion because you can explain the perversion from the normal. and cannot explain the normal
from the perverted. It follows that this bad power,
who is supposed to be on equal footing with the good power,
and to love badness in the same way as the good power loves goodness,
is a mere bogey. In order to be bad, he must have
good things to want, and then to pursue in the wrong way. He
must have impulses which were originally good, in order to
be able to pervert them. But if he is bad, he cannot supply
himself either with good things to desire or with good impulses
to pervert. He must be getting both from
the good power. And if so, then he is not independent. He is part of the good power's
world. He was made either by the good power or by some power
above them both. Put it more simply still. To
be bad, he must exist and have intelligence and will. But existence,
intelligence, and will are in themselves good. Therefore, he
must be getting them from the good power. Even to be bad, he
must borrow or steal from his opponent. And do you now begin
to see why Christianity has always said that the devil is a fallen
angel? That is not a mere story for
the children. It is a real recognition of the fact that evil is a parasite,
not an original thing. The powers which enable evil
to carry on are powers given it by goodness. All the things
which enable a bad man to effectively to be effectively bad, are in
themselves good things. Resolution, cleverness, good
looks, existence itself. That is why dualism, in a strict
sense, will not work. But I freely admit that real
Christianity, as distinct from Christianity in water, goes much
nearer to dualism than people think. One of the things that
surprised me when I first read the New Testament seriously was
that it talked so much about a dark power in the universe,
a mighty evil spirit who was held to be the power behind death
and disease and sin. The difference is that Christianity
thinks this dark power was created by God, and was good when he
was created, and went wrong. Christianity agrees with dualism
that this universe is at war, but it does not think this is
a war between independent powers. It thinks it is a civil war,
a rebellion, and that we are living in a part of the universe
occupied by the rebel. enemy occupied territory. That
is what this world is. Christianity is the story of
how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise,
and is calling us all to take part in a great campaign of sabotage. When you go to church, you are
really listening in to the secret wireless from our friends. That
is why the enemy is so anxious to prevent us from going. He
does it by playing on our conceit and laziness and intellectual
snobbery. I know someone will ask me, do
you really mean at this time of day to reintroduce our old
friend the devil, hoofs, horns, and all? Well, what the time
of day has to do with it, I don't know. And I am not particular
about the hoofs and horns. But in other respects, my answer
is, yes, I do. I do not claim to know anything
about his personal appearance. If anybody really wants to know
him better, I would say to that person, don't worry. If you really
want to, you will. Whether you'll like it when you
do is another question. And that ends chapter seven.
All right, on to chapter three of book two, which is our chapter
eight, called The Shocking Alternative. Christians then believe that
an evil power has made himself for the present the prince of
this world, and of course, that raises problems. Is this state
of affairs in accordance with God's will or not? If it is,
he is a strange God, you will say, and if it is not, How can
anything happen contrary to the will of a being with absolute
power? But anyone who has been in authority
knows how a thing can be in accordance with your will in one way and
not in another. It may be quite sensible for
a mother to say to the children, I'm not going to go and make
you tidy the schoolroom every night. You've got to learn to
keep it tidy on your own. Then she goes up one night and
finds the teddy bear and the ink and the French grammar all
lying in the grate. That is against her will. She
would prefer the children to be tidy. But on the other hand,
it is her will which has left the children free to be untidy.
The same thing arises in any regiment, or trade union, or
school. You make a thing voluntary, and
then half the people do not do it. That is not what you willed,
but your will has made it possible. It is probably the same in the
universe. God created things which had free will. That means
creatures which can go either wrong or right. Some people think
they can imagine a creature which was free but had no possibility
of going wrong. I cannot. If a thing is free
to be good, it is also free to be bad, and free will is what
has made evil possible. Why then did God give them free
will? Because free will, although it
makes evil possible, is also the only thing that makes possible
any love or goodness or joy worth having. A world of automata creatures
that work like machines would hardly be worth creating. The
happiness which God designs for His higher creatures is the happiness
of being freely, voluntarily united to Him, and to each other
in an ecstasy of love and delight compared with which the most
rapturous love between a man and a woman on this earth is
mere milk and water, and for that they must be free. Of course,
God knew what would happen if they used their freedom the wrong
way. Apparently, he thought it worth
the risk. Perhaps we feel inclined to disagree
with him. But there is a difficulty about
disagreeing with God. He is the source from which all
your reasoning power comes. You could not be right and he
wrong any more than a stream can rise higher than its own
source. When you are arguing against him, you are arguing
against the very power that makes you able to argue at all. It's
like cutting off the branch you're sitting on. If God thinks this
state of war in the universe a price worthy, worth paying
for free will, that is, for making a live world in which creatures
can do real good or harm and something of real importance
can happen, instead of a toy world which only moves when he
pulls the strings, then we may take it. It is worth paying. When we have understood about
free will, we shall see how silly it is to ask, as somebody once
asked me, why did God make a creature of such rotten stuff that it
went wrong? The better stuff a creature is
made of, the cleverer and stronger and freer it is, then the better
it will be if it goes right, but also the worse it will be
if it goes wrong. A cow cannot be very good or
very bad. A dog can be both better and
worse. A child, better and worse still. An ordinary man, still more so. A man of genius, still more so. A superhuman spirit, best or
worst of all. How did the dark power go wrong? Here, no doubt, we ask a question
to which human beings cannot give an answer with any certainty.
A reasonable and traditional guess, based on our own experiences
of going wrong, can, however, be offered. The moment you have
a self at all, there is a possibility of putting yourself first, wanting
to be the center, wanting to be God, in fact. That was the
sin of Satan, and that was the sin he taught the human race.
Some people think the fall of man has something to do with
sex, but that is a mistake. The story in the book of Genesis
rather suggests that some corruption in our sexual nature followed
the fall and was its result, not its cause. What Satan put
into the heads of our remote ancestors was the idea that they
could be like gods, could set up their own as if they had created
themselves, be their own masters, invent some sort of happiness
for themselves outside God, apart from God. And out of that hopeless
attempt has come nearly all that we call human history. Money,
poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery, the
long terrible story of a man trying to find something other
than God which will make him happy. The reason why it can
never succeed is this. God made us, invented us as a
man invents an engine. A car is made to run on petrol,
and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed
the human machine to run on himself. He himself is the fuel our spirits
were designed to burn, or the food our spirits were designed
to feed on. There is no other. That is why
it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way
without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness
and peace apart from himself, because it is not there. There
is no such thing. That is the key to history. Terrific
energy is expanded. Civilizations are built up. Excellent
institutions devised. But each time, something goes
wrong. Some fatal flaw always brings the selfish and cruel
people to the top, and it all slides back into misery and ruin.
In fact, the machine conks. It simply, excuse me, it seems
to start up all right and run a few yards, then it breaks down. They're trying to run it on the
wrong juice. That is what Satan has done to
us humans. And what did God do? First of
all, he left us conscience, the sense of right and wrong, and
all through history there have been people trying, some of them
very hard, to obey it. None of them ever quite succeeded.
Secondly, he sent the human race what I call good dreams. I mean
those queer stories scattered all through the heathen religions
about a god who dies and comes to life again, and, by his death,
has somehow given new life to men. Thirdly, he selected one
particular people and spent several centuries hammering into their
heads the sort of God he was, that there was only one of him,
and that he cared about right conduct. Those people were the
Jews, and the Old Testament gives an account of the hammering process.
Then comes the real shock. Among these Jews, there suddenly
turns up a man who goes about talking as if he was God. He claims to forgive sins. He
says he always existed. He says he is coming to judge
the world at the end of time. Now let us get this clear. Among
pantheists, like the Indians, anyone might say that he was
a part of God, or one with God. There would be nothing very odd
about it. But this man, since he was a
Jew, could not mean that kind of God. God, in their language,
meant the being outside the world who had made it and was infinitely
different from anything else. And when you have grasped that,
you will see that what this man said was quite simply the most
shocking thing that has ever been uttered by human lips. One
part of the claim tends to slip past us unnoticed because we
have heard it so often that we no longer see what it amounts
to. I mean the claim to forgive sins. Any sins. Now unless the speaker
is God, this is really so preposterous as to be comic. We can all understand
how a man forgives offenses against himself. You tread on my toes
and I forgive you. You steal my money and I forgive
you. But what should we make of a man, himself unrobbed and
untrodden on, who announced that he forgave you for treading on
other men's toes and stealing other men's money? Asinine fatuity
is the kindest description we should give of his conduct. Yet
this is what Jesus did. He told people that their sins
were forgiven and never waited to consult all the other people
whom their sins had undoubtedly injured. He unhesitatingly behaved
as if he was the party chiefly concerned, the person chiefly
offended in all offenses. This makes sense only if he really
was the God whose laws are broken, and whose love is wounded in
every sin. In the mouth of any speaker who
is not God, these words would imply what I can only regard
as a silliness and conceit unrivaled by any other character in history.
Yet, and this is the strange, significant thing, even his enemies,
when they read the Gospels, do not usually get the impression
of silliness and conceit. Still less do unprejudiced readers. Christ says that he is humble
and meek, and we believe him, not noticing that, if he were
merely a man, humility and meekness are the very last characteristics
we could attribute to some of his sayings. I'm trying here
to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people
often say about him. I'm ready to accept Jesus as
a great moral teacher, but I don't accept his claim to be God. That
is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man
and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral
teacher. He would either be a lunatic,
on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg, or else
he would be the devil of hell. You must make your choice. Either
this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman, or
something worse. You can shut him up for a fool,
you can spit at him and kill him as a demon, or you can fall
at his feet and call him Lord and God. But let us not come
with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human
teacher. He has not left that open to
us. He did not intend to." And that
ends chapter eight. I like that last bit. I see where
Josh McDowell got that lunatic madman kind of a thing. Alright,
so I'm going to be starting chapter 9 here, the final one of our time tonight,
and it is called The Perfect Penitent. We are faced, then,
with a frightening alternative. This man we are talking about
either was, and is, just what he said, or else a lunatic or
something worse. Now it seems to me obvious that
he was neither a lunatic nor a fiend, and consequently, however
strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept
the view that he was and is God. God has landed on this enemy-occupied
world in human form. And now, what was the purpose
of it all? What did he come to do? Well,
to teach, of course. But as soon as you look into
the New Testament or any other Christian writing, you will find
They are constantly talking about something different, about his
death and his coming to life again. It is obvious that Christians
think the chief point of the story lies there. They think
the main thing he came to earth to do was to suffer and be killed. Now, before I became a Christian,
I was under the impression that the first thing Christians had
to believe was one particular theory as to what the point of
this dying was. According to that theory, God
wanted to punish men for having deserted and joined the great
rebel, which is Satan, but Christ volunteered to be punished instead,
and so God let us off. Now, I admit that even this theory
does not seem to me quite so immoral and so silly as it used
to, but that's not the point I want to make. What I came to
see later on was that neither this theory nor any other is
Christianity. The central Christian belief
is that Christ's death has somehow put us right with God and given
us a fresh start. Theories as to how it did this
are another matter. A good many different theories
have been held as to how it works. What all Christians are agreed
on is that it does work. I will tell you what I think
it is like. All sensible people know that
if you are tired and hungry, a meal will do you good. But
the modern theory of nourishment, all the vitamins and proteins,
is a different thing. People ate their dinners and
felt better long before the theory of vitamins was ever heard of.
And if the theory of vitamins is someday abandoned, they will
go on eating their dinners just the same. Theories about Christ's
death are not Christianity. They are explanations about how
it works. Christians would not all agree
as to how important these theories are. My own church, the Church
of England, does not lay down any one of them as the right
one. The Church of Rome goes a bit further. But I think they
will all agree that the thing itself is infinitely more important
than any explanations that theologians have produced. I think they would
probably admit that no explanation will ever be quite adequate to
the reality. But as I said in the preface
to this book, I am only a layman. And at this point, we are getting
into deep water. I can only tell you for what
it is worth how I, personally, look at the matter. In my view,
the theories are not themselves the things you are asked to accept. Many of you, no doubt, have read
Jeans or Eddington. What they do when they want to
explain the atom or something of that sort is to give you a
description out of which you can make a mental picture. But
then, they warn you that this picture is not what the scientists
actually believe. What the scientists believe is
a mathematical formula. The pictures are there only to
help you to understand the formula. They are not really true in the
way the formula is. They do not give you the real
thing, but only something more or less like it. They are only
meant to help, and if they do not help, you can drop them.
The thing itself cannot be pictured. It can only be expressed mathematically. We are in the same boat here.
We believe that the death of Christ is just that point in
history at which something absolutely unimaginable from outside shows
through into our own world. And if we cannot picture even
the atoms of which our own world is built, of course we are not
going to be able to picture this. Indeed, if we found that we could
fully understand it, that very fact would show it was not what
it professes to be. The inconceivable, the uncreated,
the thing from beyond nature, striking down, into nature like
lightning. You may ask what good it will
be to us if we do not understand it, but that is easily answered.
A man can eat his dinner without understanding exactly how food
nourishes him. A man can accept what Christ
has done without knowing how it worked. Indeed, he certainly
would not know how it worked until he has accepted it. We are told that Christ was killed
for us, that his death has washed out our sins, and that by dying
he disabled death itself. That is the formula. That is
Christianity. That is what has to be believed. Any theories we build up as to
how Christ's death did all of this, in my view, are quite secondary. mere plans or diagrams to be
left alone if they do not help us, and if they do help us not
to be confused with the thing itself. All the same, some of
these theories are worth looking at. The one most people have
heard is the one I mentioned before. The one about our being
left, excuse me, about our being let off because Christ has volunteered
to bear a punishment instead of us. Now on the face of it,
that is a very silly theory. If God was prepared to let us
off, why on earth did he not do so? And what possible point
could there be in punishing an innocent person instead? None
at all that I can see, if you're thinking of punishment in the
police court sense. On the other hand, if you think
of a debt, there is plenty of point in a person who has some
assets paying it on behalf of someone who has not. Or, if you
take paying the penalty, not in the sense of being punished,
but in the more general sense of standing the racket or footing
the bill, then, of course, it is a matter of common experience
that when one person has got himself into a hole, the trouble
of getting him out usually falls on a kind friend. Now, what was
the sort of hole man had got himself into? He had tried to
set up on his own, to behave as if he belonged to himself.
In other words, fallen man is not simply an imperfect creature
who needs improvement. He is a rebel who must lay down
his arms. Laying down your arms, surrendering,
saying you are sorry, realizing that you have been on the wrong
track and getting ready to start life over again from the ground
floor, that is the only way out of our hole. This process of
surrender, this movement full speed astern, is what Christians
call repentance. Now, repentance is no fun at
all. It is something much harder than merely eating humble pie.
It means unlearning all the self-conceit and self-will that we have been
training ourselves into for thousands of years. It means killing part
of yourself, undergoing a kind of death. In fact, it needs a
good man to repent. And here comes the catch. Only
a bad person needs to repent. Only a good person can repent
perfectly. The worse you are, the more you
need it, and the less you can do it. The only person who could
do it perfectly would be a perfect person, and he would not need
it. Remember, this repentance, this
willing submission to humiliation and a kind of death, is not something
God demands of you before he will take you back and which
he could let you off if he chose. It is simply a description of
what going back to him is like. If you ask God to take you back
without it, you are really asking him to let you go back without
going back. It cannot happen. Very well then,
we must go through with it. But the same badness which makes
us need it, makes us unable to do it. Can we do it if God helps
us? Yes. But what do we mean when
we talk of God helping us? We mean God putting into us a
bit of himself, so to speak. He lends us a little of his reasoning
powers, and that is how we think. He puts a little of his love
into us, and that is how we love one another. When you teach a
child writing, you hold its hand while it forms the letters. That
is, it forms the letters because you are forming them. We love
and reason because God loves and reasons and holds our hands
while we do it. Now, if we had not fallen, that
would be all plain sailing. But unfortunately, we now need
God's help in order to do something, which God, in his own nature,
never does at all, to surrender, to suffer, to submit, to die. Nothing in God's nature corresponds
to this process at all, so that the one road for which we now
need God's leadership most of all is a road God, in his own
nature, has never walked. God can share only what he has,
this thing. In his own nature, he has not. But supposing God became a man,
suppose our human nature, which can suffer and die, was amalgamated
with God's nature in one person, then that person could help us.
He could surrender his will and suffer and die because he was
man, and he could do it perfectly because he was God. You and I
can go through this process only if God does it in us, but God
can do it only if he becomes man. Our attempts at this dying
will succeed only if we men share in God's dying, just as our thinking
can succeed only because it is a drop out of the ocean of His
intelligence. But we cannot share God's dying
unless God dies, and He cannot die except by being a man. That
is the sense in which He pays our debt and suffers for us,
what He Himself need not suffer at all. I have heard some people
complain that if Jesus was God as well as man, then His sufferings
and death lose all value in their eyes, because it must have been
so easy for Him. Others may, very rightly, rebuke
the ingratitude and ungraciousness of this objection. What staggers
me is the misunderstanding it betrays. In one sense, of course,
those who make it are right. have even understated their own
case. The perfect submission, the perfect
suffering, the perfect death, were not only easier to Jesus
because he was God, but were possible only because he was
God. But surely, that is a very odd reason for not accepting
them. The teacher is able to form the
letters for the child because the teacher is grown up and knows
how to write. That, of course, makes it easier
for the teacher, and only because it is easier for him can he help
the child. If it rejected him because it's
easy for grown-ups, and waited to learn writing from another
child who could not write itself, and so had no unfair advantage,
it would not get on very quickly. If I'm drowning in a rapid river,
a man who still has one foot on the bank may give me a hand
which saves my life. Ought I to shout back between
gasps? No, it's not fair. You have an
advantage. You're keeping one foot on the
bank. That advantage, call it unfair if you like, is the only
reason why he can be of any use to me. To what will you look
for help if you will not look to that which is stronger than
yourself. Such is my own way of looking
at what Christians call the atonement. But remember, this is only one
more picture. Do not mistake it for the thing
itself, and if it does not help you, drop it. And that ends our
chapter. So, I'm glad that we could go
through these three chapters tonight. If I misread the audience
here, let me know in the comments. I'll completely record these
over again with biblical applications, if that's what the majority of
you want. I just kind of assumed that you were looking for a book
on tape, or not on tape, I guess. Sorry, I'm part of the Oregon
Trail generation. An audiobook. I figured you were
looking for an audiobook for these, so that's what I tried
to give you. All right, God bless.
Lewis' Mere Christianity, Chapters 7-9
Series Mere Christianity
Chris Fogle reads C.S. Lewis' "Mere Christianity", chapters 7-9. In the midst of COVID-19, Mere Christianity is a comforting compilation of a series of radio talks that Lewis was asked to give by the BBC during WWII. Regardless of whether you're an agnostic (as Lewis was) or a mature believer, his real-world application, humor and simplicity are timeless. It's easy to see how God moved through one of the great apologists of all time.
| Sermon ID | 32820413161979 |
| Duration | 40:46 |
| Date | |
| Category | Podcast |
| Language | English |
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