S1-E1: God and a Glass of Cold Beer
S1: Theology and Imagination
E1: God and a Glass of Cold Beer
Late into the evening after a particularly laborious day steeped in the archives of the Bodleian Library, I made my way to the corner of St. Giles Street in Oxford. It was here that I would find solace to contemplate the ancient material I had consumed that day. Entering through the unseemly door of a 17th century pub I could not dismiss the sensation of walking through a wardrobe into an entirely different world.
Entering through the unseemly door of a 17th century pub I could not dismiss the sensation of walking through a wardrobe into an entirely different world.
The sound of the street became faint as a new sound emerged from within the Eagle and Child pub. It was the sound of conversation, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses toasting one thing or another. It was a warm, friendly, and welcoming atmosphere with more than 350 years of story-telling, exaggeration, and downright lies.
In one particular corner of the pub was a space called the Rabbit Room. There was an open table nestled into the corner hosting two old oak captain chairs. After procuring a cold beverage, I made my way to the table that seemed to invite with the words, “Come and dine!”
I was fully aware of the historical importance of the Rabbit Room. It was the room where theology and imagination weaved together over a glass of cold beer. In a time when it was not popular to write about God, a group of men produced some of the greatest works of the 20th century that still influence today. The group was fittingly called The Inklings as each member had slight knowledge, suspicion, a hint, glimmering, or notion about God.
The gathering emerged from a friendship of two men: C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien. They would meet Monday mornings in the rooms of Magdalene College in Oxford.
As time passed, other literary colleagues would join them. At one point there was 19 men, so The Inklings moved their meeting to Thursday evenings at about 9:00pm at the Eagle and Child. They occupied the area called the Rabbit Room. The gathering emerged from a friendship of two men: C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien.
They would meet Monday mornings in the rooms of Magdalene College in Oxford.
As time passed, other literary colleagues would join them. At one point there was 19 men, so The Inklings moved their meeting to Thursday evenings at about 9:00pm at the Eagle and Child. They occupied the area called the Rabbit Room.
It was in this space that Lewis would read from his first draft Out of the Silent Planet, The Great Divorce, The Problem of Pain, Miracles, The Screwtape Letters and others. Tolkien read from his first draft of Lord of the Rings, and The Hobbit. What followed was encouragement, critique, interruption, and a great deal of humorous argument. Their meetings would finish in the early hours of the morning for the next twenty years.
Their gathering may have looked like a book or a literary club, but there were no rules, no agenda, no minutes taken, or elections. It was simply a small group of British men that generated an enormous creative energy with strong and enduring friendships in an interesting blend of Catholic and Protestant views. Lewis said, “What I owe them all is incalculable…is any pleasure on earth as great as a circle of Christian friends by a good fire?” It gave me pause to think that a circle of friends by a good fire was still taking place before my eyes. Perhaps this was part of the warming atmosphere?
What became clear was that I sat in the room of legends.
The conversations that took place have been retraced by many authors from documents and journals like putting jigsaw puzzle pieces together. One such book is written by Humphrey Carpenter. From his work, it is not difficult to locate patterns in how The Inklings viewed theology and imagination.
For example, theology describes and explains truth, whereas imagination embellishes it with adaptable imagery. Without imagination, truth would not be comprehendible. As such, it is not difficult to comprehend embellished truth in The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, and The Chronicles of Narnia just to name a few.
Theology and imagination sit at the feet of truth. While truth remains consistent, how it is described, explained, and imaged is always adaptable to the audience that hears it, reads it, or simply observes it.
Adaptable imagination is precisely what Jesus did while explaining a singular truth. For example, Jesus explains and describes the radical love of God by embellishing it in three different ways: the lost son, lost coin, and lost sheep. He does the same with the singular truth about the Kingdom of God: it is like the sower, weeds, mustard seed, yeast, hidden treasure, a great pearl, and a fishing net.
Imagination embryoids and guilds unchanging truth. Such embellishment is necessary, especially in a Western culture of postmodernism where all truth is deconstructed. Perhaps The Abolition of Man by Lewis is a strong indication The Inklings strongly opposed the deconstruction of truth. While this is uncertain, at least five summary points can be made from Carpenter’s The Inklings that weave together theology and imagination sitting at the feet of truth.
First, theology and imagination do not separate spirituality from reality.
The Christian life is not about escaping the world in which we live, or the individual and collective responsibilities that accompany it. What theology describes and explains, imagination firmly embellishes with imagery from everyday life: radical love in the pursuit of a coin, sheep, and son; and God’s Kingdom in the images of agriculture and the kitchen.
Irenaeus (130-202AD) illustrated why spirituality and reality must not be separated in his work adversus haereses (Against Heresies). As a prominent Early Church Father, he argued that Jesus did not produce wine ex nihilo (out of nothing) while attending a wedding at Cana. Rather, he transformed what had already been created: water into wine. As such, salvation and creation reimage spirituality and reality. The Christian life is not about living someone else’s life, it is about a transformed life that already exists. It is not too difficult to see this in War in Heaven and Place of the Lion by Charles Williams.
Consequently, the human soul is not meant to escape the world God created. It is meant to flourish and thrive as God intended. Again, Williams satirically brings this truth out in All Hallow’ Eve. When spirituality is described and explained in theological terms, the embellishment of imagination will not separate it from reality, lest the Christian life become weird escapism.
Second, theology and imagination does not hide what Jesus has revealed.
Any attempt to accomplish a re-hiding is nothing short of grasping for religious power over people. Jesus has opened the way back to God, reconciled the world, made a way where there was no way, and as St. Paul repeated, “much more”. Therefore, Jesus views every life as meaningful because his life, death, resurrection and new life is for anyone and everyone is welcome.
Theology describes and explains what Jesus has done for us. We are redeemed, atoned for, ransomed, made righteous, holy, and sanctified. Imagination embellishes that theology. We are crucified with Jesus, buried with him, and raised with him, to new life in Jesus.
Theologically comprehending what Jesus has now revealed is only half the truth. Imagination sits with theology at the feet of truth embroidering a specific pattern for the Christian life: life, death, resurrection, and new life. Frodo, the protagonist of the Lord of the Rings typifies this pattern.
Third, theology and imagination are iconic in the sense that truth is reflected in the Christian life.
Jesus said that anyone following him would be identified by what people see, observe, and notice. The Great Divorce by Lewis exemplifies the iconic life.
In a time of noise and distraction, the art of contemplation, meditation, and reflection are the necessary characteristics of imagination. The Inklings were firm about the need for such characteristics to come back to the forefront of the Christian life. Characteristics like these are personal and private disciplines. Lewis clearly highlights them in The Problem of Pain and a. Immediately following the reading of Scripture, the ego is silenced for a moment while God does his best work in us.
The journey of Lewis from atheism to Christianity in Surprised by Joy reveals that ego will always want to know about God. But without silence the ego will never comprehend a relationship with God. Therefore, we must contemplate, meditate, and reflect on Scripture.
Fourth, theology and imagination make room for the sacred.
We encounter Jesus at specific times in certain spaces. In many ways, all The Inklings acknowledged this fact. Traditionally, that time Joy and space has been corporate worship, prayer, and holy communion. Historically, it has been at the altars of cathedrals, churches, and chapels. Owen Barfield writes about language, imagination, being human, and society in relationship with God in The Rediscovery of Meaning and Other Essays. He ruthlessly and brilliantly challenges the shallowness of his day by insisting on sacred time and space.
Though traditional and historical spaces are delightful, we are not limited to them. Jesus has promised to be with us always. However, there are times and spaces where Jesus is intensely and intimately with us.
Scripture instructs us to seek Jesus. Setting aside time and creating space to encounter Jesus is the act of seeking. As such, Jesus is available to us always, and at certain times and spaces we create, he is intensely and intimately close. Not only do we comprehend him, we also know him more.
Fifth, theology and imagination look to the future.
When Jesus introduced Communion as a table of celebration and remembrance, he promised to do it again. However, that promise would only be realized when he comes again. From that upper room where Jesus personified the bread and wine to this present day, Communion looks to the day when we will eat and drink with him.
Theology describes and explains the bread as the body of Jesus and the wine his blood. Imagination embellished both while something called liminality takes place. It is where no one is describing or explaining. No one is worshipping, praying, reading Scripture, or reciting liturgy. It is a moment in time when God is at work as participants imagine Jesus in the bread and wine. Undoubtedly, the literary devices of allegory and typology were rampant in the literature produced by The Inklings.
Theology and imagination continue to sit at the feet of truth. One describes and explains while the other embellishes with adaptable imagery.
It’s 10:30pm. I’m tired. Perhaps it’s time to leave this hallowed corner of The Eagle and Child and walk back through the wardrobe to St. Giles Street. Doubtless, the creative energy of The Inklings did not come from the solace of quiet contemplation, but from the pleasure of friends by the fire. Next time, I’ll invite my friends to a feast of story-telling, exaggeration, and downright lies over a glass of cold beer.