Dear Mr. Lewis, 

 

It is such an honor to write to you. If people were to read this letter, many would immediately think that I am writing to the author of the great children’s classic, The Chronicles of Narnia. 

 

Seven fabulous and enchanting books in the series, the first three of which were turned into a tremendously successful movie trilogy. One of that trilogy, Prince Caspian, became the absolute favorite movie of my two daughters — treasured in their childhood. That was because of the epic story, grand scenery of mountains, forests, and rivers, humorous dialogue, and very likable characters. Well done! 

 

Speaking of Narnia, last month I started a personal journey of re-reading all seven Chronicles of Narnia books. And this time, I noticed something new, and was absolutely delighted by it – your dedication in the first book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It was to your God-daughter, Lucy Barfield: “My Dear Lucy, I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” 

 

I guess it must be that I am old enough now to start reading fairy tales again. And some day, my two daughters may become old enough. 

 

But with all due respect to fairy tales and fiction, I must tell you that my favorite genre of books is biographies. For a biography tells the story of someone’s life, in which meaning and purpose interplay with the human condition. There is so much I learn from and am inspired by other peoples’ lives. In the past three years, I have kept a tradition of making a list of the Top Ten Books I have read in the past year. Out of those thirty books I selected over three years, a total of sixteen have been biographies. 

 

Several of these biographies were about you, along with your friend J.R.R. Tolkien. Now, humble man that you are, I know you feel embarrassed and somewhat uncomfortable at the thought of someone reading several biographies about your life. I certainly don’t want to offend your sensibilities. 

 

So allow me to shift the focus of my letter from you to another biography, albeit a highly unusual one. It’s the biography of – as strange as this sounds – a book! An honest to goodness book! One could ask how a book can have a life story worth telling, like a man or woman’s life. Can an inanimate object like a book really have a life story, from birth to a full life to death? In one word – absolutely! Of course, it can! And literary composer and genius that you are, and with your similar love for books, especially old books, I bet you agree with me. 

 

This biography just so happens to be the story about a book written by you! And that book is Mere Christianity. 

 

Now in a sense, every book has a publishing story of how it came to be, how it was received by the general public, and how long it lasted on bookstore shelves. But Mere Christianity has, in my mind, been the book which has had the most unusual and fascinating life — perhaps in all the history of literature, save for the Bible itself. 

 

The story began, as you well know, in 1941 when some folks at the BBC had an idea for a few radio broadcasts on religion, partly to encourage the people of England during the bombing of London in World War II. As it turned out, you did four different sets of radio talks in 1941, 1942, and 1944. 

 

During this same period, the chaplain of the Royal Air Force (RAF) asked you to serve as a traveling lecturer to RAF units, whose mortality rate for pilots was very high. In fact, you spent your summer vacation in 1941 traveling to RAF bases to encourage the troops. 

 

Was it unnerving for you to sit in cold, unlit trains to reduce the chance of being bombed by the enemy? Despite that, you did these lectures throughout the war. And after the Battle of Britain, these were the men Prime Minister Churchill referred to in his memorable speech: “never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few“. 

 

The RAF lectures helped you to hone your skills in communicating with general audiences and gave you valuable practice and feedback for the radio talks. Thus, you came to know your audience in the radio talks. You knew what it took to hold the attention of a post-Christian Britain, and how you could engage them over the radio, albeit for the relatively brief 10 to 15 minutes for each talk. 

 

The talks were well-received and a grand success. Soon people were asking for transcripts of the talks, and each series was reproduced as thin books. Book 1 was called Broadcast Talks. Book 2 was called What Christians Believe. Book 3 was called Christian Behavior. And Book 4 was called Beyond Personality: The Christian Idea of God. In some of the books, you added finishing touches and a few chapters not given over the radio. 

 

But it wasn’t until eight years later in 1952 that the first consolidated book for all the talks was released – under a new name, Mere Christianity. 

 

Before I go on, I should tell you that I learned much of the story I am recounting from a book called C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity: A Biography by George M. Marsden. I found great pleasure in reading Mr. Marsden’s book in 2018. 

 

Now back to my story. From its birth during the war years, Mere Christianity grew up through its child and teenage years — if I may call it that — quite unobtrusively and steadily under your watch, until your death in 1963. Through most of this period, you were known mostly as the author of another book, The Screwtape Letters, and then in the later 1950’s, the author of The Chronicles of Narnia. 

 

But slowly and surely, sales of Mere Christianity overtook The Screwtape Letters near the end of your life on earth. One of the events that brought some popularity to Mere Christianity was the evangelistic revivals in 1954 and 1955 of the Reverend Billy Graham from America. Because of your Broadcast Talks and Screwtape, you were at that time one of the most well-known Christians in England. And when they came to Cambridge, the young rector of All Souls Church, John R.W. Stott, brought you and Mr. Graham together to discuss the upcoming events. It ended up that, because large-scale evangelistic revivals were just not your cup of tea, which was understandable, you did not get involved. But perhaps Mere Christianity did! I bet they passed out a copy of Mere Christianity to any attender at the revival who expressed an interest in Christianity. 

 

Before your death, you honestly thought that, despite your fame, not many people would want to read your books, especially the nonfiction books. And that they all would become forgotten books. Others said similar things. That the lifespan of Mere Christianity would be soon coming to an end. 

 

As they say, history has a way of making fools of our prophetic inclinations. For Mere Christianity was to have a long life ahead as it entered adulthood. 

 

And the story continued most emphatically across the Atlantic in America, probably due largely to the stronger state of Christianity there compared to England. Let me tell you a fascinating story about this – it will sound almost like a fairy tale. 

 

In the mid-1970s in America, there lived two men. The first man was a successful lawyer named Chuck Colson, who was a close advisor to the President of the United States, Richard Nixon. Mr. Colson got caught committing some crimes on behalf of the President, and thus had reached the lowest point in his life. 

 

His crimes involved an infamous affair called Watergate, which led to the President resigning from office. I do not tell you this because what happened to the President is important to my tale. But to help you realize that because this was the first such resignation in the history of America, there was a tremendous amount of attention and notoriety on Mr. Colson. 

 

Then a good friend invited Mr. Colson to his home. As they sat together sipping tea, his friend gave him a copy of Mere Christianity, and asked Mr. Colson to take it home and read it. But before handing over the book, his friend read one chapter aloud to Mr. Colson, right there as they sat on his friend’s front porch. It was from the section called Christian Behavior, the chapter called The Great Sin, which is pride. Mr. Colson was cut to the heart when hearing this chapter from Mere Christianity. 

 

He eventually pleaded guilty to his crimes and went to prison, but he was a changed man. He later wrote a book about his experience called Born Again, and in his book, Mr. Colson told the highlight of how reading Mere Christianity in those few days changed his life. 

 

The second man in my tale lived on a farm in a place called Georgia in the deep south of the United States. His name was Jimmy Carter and he grew peanuts. He worked hard on his farm for most of his life. One day, Mr. Carter decided that he wanted to become the President of the United States. He did not want the country to know him just as a peanut farmer. He called himself a born again Christian, and announced his candidacy to the entire nation in February 1976. He was eventually successful and became President about a year later. 

 

As it just so happened, Mr. Colson’s book — which was titled Born Again — was published in February 1976, the very same month Mr. Carter began running for President. Some would call this a remarkable coincidence, one very fitting for a fairy tale. This was how the term “born again”, which was new to many people, captured the attention of America. Millions read Mr. Colson’s book, and millions more wanted to learn about the new President’s religion. And so, it came to pass that millions of Americans, and in fact people all over the world, were introduced to, and read, Mere Christianity. 

 

And so ends this fairy tale of Mere Christianity. 

 

But there is a deeper, broader, and more lasting story. It is, in fact, the true story beyond a few famous people. It is the story of everyday people. Many thousands of people have publicly stated that Mere Christianity changed their lives. Over the years, numerous surveys have been taken, and time and again, when Christians were asked which book other than the Bible impacted them the most, the most common answer was Mere Christianity. 

 

Of course, not everyone who read Mere Christianity was enamored by it or was influenced by it. Many people, in fact, asked what was all the fuss about the book because they did not have a significant experience reading it, or did not like the book. Many forget, I suspect, the ultimate purpose you had in giving the radio talks. But enough people have been profoundly moved that the book’s reputation has grown. 

 

Many American seminaries and colleges, places like Wheaton College and student organizations like Intervarsity Christian Fellowship, took the lead in distributing copies of Mere Christianity, passing them from hand to hand. From professors to students. Small group leaders to members. Faculty members to other faculty members. Upperclassmen to incoming students. And the story repeated in numerous American churches all over the country. New generations of believers passing along the book. Most of the changed lives have not been publicly reported. And so the story and the life of Mere Christianity continues to this day, still impacting people’s lives. 

 

As for me, I did not read Mere Christianity in my early spiritual journey. I have to confess that I was influenced more by the writings of John Stott. But later in my journey, parts of Mere Christianity resonated deep in my soul, especially the sections What Christians Believe and Christian Behaviour, and like Mr. Colson, the truth of the great sin of pride, 

 

I would be remiss if, after telling you this biography of Mere Christianity, I did not tell you my personal conclusions on the meaning of the 80-year life of Mere Christianity. It starts with a simple question of how could a series of 10 to 15 minute radio talks done in the crucible of the worst war in the history of mankind become such a ray of light to people throughout the past 80 years. In the unique story of Mere Christianity, what accounts for the profound legacy of the book, beyond what anyone could expect or imagine? Why has nearly every other nonfiction book from the 1940’s disappeared from bookstore shelves, whereas this one continues to sell impressively? 

 

My answer is not in your eloquence, even though you are clearly a great writer. It is not your reason or rhetoric or understanding. It is not your skills as a translator in connecting with your audience. It is not your imaginative use of metaphors. In fact, my answer is not about you at all. Knowing your humility, I’m sure you agree with me. 

 

My answer lies not in the author of the book, but in the book’s subject itself. And also in the subject’s true Author. And how the interplay between both subject and Author continues to speak to generation after generation about the human condition – even to those like us who are very far removed from the world war of the 1940’s. 

 

Forgive me, Mr. Lewis, for writing such a lengthy letter. I know it is excessive, and longer than nearly any letter I have ever written. And so I feel compelled to end my letter rather abruptly. I can write more on another occasion. There is so much more I want to tell you, and to ask you. Like telling you the story of my father’s World War II experience in the Pacific theater and his time at a nearby army base when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Like asking you my many questions about Narnia. And why joy was your life’s obsession. And about your intimate experience with The Inklings. In fact, The Inklings is the reason why I am writing this letter to you. Perhaps I will tell you that story in my next letter. 

 

Yours truly, 

Ted at Common Reason