C. S. Lewis as a Mentor by Mail
Lewis wrote nearly forty books in his lifetime, and one might think he would have little time left over for private correspondence. But actually Lewis’s letters fill three sizable volumes of more than 3,500 pages.* Many of these letters, of course, are addressed to people Lewis knew personally. But a remarkable portion of the letters were written to complete strangers, including many Americans, who sent in questions after reading one of Lewis’s books or hearing him on the radio.
In his later years, letter writing became an onerous task for Lewis. In one missive, Lewis notes that he had sent out thirty-five letters that day. In another, he confesses, a bit wearily, that he had just spent nine hours catching up on his correspondence. Yet for Lewis, responding to letters, even from children, was not just a courtesy; it was a part of his vocation as a writer. Noting to one friend that many of those who wrote him were “in great need of help and often in great misery,” Lewis felt it an obligation and a form of ministry to respond to so many of those who sought his advice and counsel.
Having spent much of his early adulthood as an atheist, Lewis was especially attentive in replying to readers with theological questions. To one inquirer who asked him, “What is a soul?” Lewis responded succinctly, “I am.” Then he explained further, “A soul is that which can say, ‘I am.’” On the question of free will vs. determinism, Lewis agreed that it was indeed a perennial paradox. But he noted that physicists had a similar problem in trying to find models for light, which seems to behave both as a series of waves and as a stream of particles. Lewis felt that if scientists couldn’t solve basic riddles about the nature of the created universe, then it was only to be expected that there would be even more perplexing questions about its Creator. On the practical level, Lewis suggested that we assume determinism for other people, that their characters are fixed beyond our power to change them, while adopting a freewill approach for ourselves, believing that we do have the power to make better choices.
Lewis also devoted a great many letters to questions that arise on individual faith journeys. To several seekers he suggested that they adopt an attitude of “cheerful curiosity,” not trying to force themselves to decide whether to believe or disbelieve. To one inquirer, Lewis offered the illustration of someone rowing a boat. In order to thrust the boat forward, you have to face backward, so you can see what is behind you but not what lies before you. Therefore you have to keep your eyes on the helmsperson, as they are the one steering the boat and the one who can see what lies ahead.
Lewis’s answers to his correspondents often took the form of quotable epigrams. About guilt feelings he wrote, “You can’t help their knocking on the door; but you mustn’t ask them in to lunch.” To another reader, Lewis observed succinctly, “We should mind humiliation less if we were humbler.”
As can be seen above, Lewis’s mentoring letters often make use of simple metaphors and apt analogies. To someone who was worried that she didn’t have the proper religious feelings to support her convictions, Lewis wrote that “faith is a matter of intellectual assent supported by obedient action, not a matter of working up devotional feelings.” Noting that “we shall proceed to faith only by acting as if we had it,” Lewis offers the analogy of a reluctant swimmer. Even though she may feel that she will go right to the bottom, she knows intellectually that the water will support her, so she should go ahead and dive in. To another correspondent, Lewis described a chronic tendency toward narcissism as a “black fire of self-imprisonment.”
At times, Lewis was almost overawed by the level of trust and devotion he found in the letters addressed to him. He cautioned one correspondent that if others read her letters to him, they might ask, “Are there no priests in this country?” He later arranged for her to have her own “official” spiritual director, an ordained clergyman. To another reader, he confided in dismay, “I am shocked to hear that your friends think of following me. I want them to follow Christ.” On yet another occasion, he ended his letter with this important qualifier: “Remember, all this is only my guess. I’m not inspired, very far from it.”
Despite these reservations, Lewis consistently answered letters for over twenty years, from the time of his first BBC broadcast in 1941 until his death in 1963. Besides addressing theological questions, Lewis’s letters also offer thoughtful advice about faith and prayer, comfort to the grieving, vivid mini-parables, and even practical tips about family relations and getting along with difficult people.
One letter writer asked Lewis for some Christian books he would recommend for a friend of hers who was struggling emotionally and spiritually. Lewis wrote back that “where people can resist or ignore arguments, they may be unable to resist lives.” He explained that his correspondent herself might have a more crucial role in her friend’s spiritual healing than any other resource he might name. In his decades-long role as a “mentor by mail,” Lewis himself succeeded so well as a spiritual guide not so much because of the insights and illustrations contained in his letters, but because of the character and the life of the person behind them.
*In referencing letters written by Lewis, this book draws from the three volumes of The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, which are abbreviated “CL 1,” “CL 2,” and “CL 3,” followed by the page number on which the letter appears in that volume:
CL 1 The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume 1: Family Letters 1905–1931. Ed. by Walter Hooper. London: HarperCollins, 2000.
CL 2 The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume 2: Books, Broadcasts, and the War, 1931–1949. Ed. by Walter Hooper. London: HarperCollins, 2004.
CL 3 The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume 3: Narnia, Cambridge, and Joy, 1950–1963. Ed. by Walter Hooper. London: HarperCollins, 2007.