MacDonald (as selected by Lewis)

Faith & Science Conversation
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(271) Visitors

So when Mrs Pearson knocked at the door, and told me that a lady and gentleman had called, I shut my book which I had just opened, and kept down as well as I could the rising grumble of the inhospitable Englishman, who is apt to be forgetful to entertain strangers, at least in the parlour of his heart. And I cannot count it perfect hospitality to be friendly and plentiful towards those whom you have invited to your house—what thank has a man in that?—while you are cold and forbidding to those who have not that claim on your attention. That is not to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect. By all means tell people, when you are busy about something that must be done, that you cannot spare the time for them except they want you upon something of yet more pressing necessity; but TELL them, and do not get rid of them by the use of the instrument commonly called THE COLD SHOULDER. It is a wicked instrument …

As found in MacDonald’s “Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood” Chapter 5.

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Mac’s take on prayer and providence is certainly more impersonal than Müller’s and seems ignorant of it! It seems to me that the latter’s is the one to emulate… not to mention his work with orphans! And that was my point about them being of the same era.

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(I would prefer to emulate his visage, too – it’s certainly more cheerful and less brooding! ; - )

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Well … hey now! I have pictures of myself - sometimes glowering, and sometimes (more rarely) with a pleasant smile. I hope you don’t ever take the worst of me to compare with the best of someone else! That said, maybe Mac just wasn’t photogenic … many of us aren’t.

Yeah - Muller seems like an interesting character (just from my wikipedia perusal earlier today) - the work with orphans and such being great testimony to his character! If you delve into any of his writings or other outlooks on life that make for an interesting contrast with Mac, I’ll be interested to hear it!

Meanwhile, this isn’t a beauty pageant for theologians or authors - I’m guessing that neither GM would be interested in being entered into some competition over “who’s the better Christian”. At least I’m pretty sure Mac would be horrified with the thought - and it sounds like Muller would be too.

All that said … Your GM’s beard doesn’t hold a candle to Mac’s! :man_beard:

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It’s not a competition, but maybe about wisdom, whom time is best spent with, prioritizing, which one will teach us more about how God answers prayer in providential reality, not just philosophical musings? (And there is a difference between trimmed and what might characterized as unkempt… the individual’s lifestyle and activities being a factor of course, which one a wee orphan might more easily grab and hang from. ; - )

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That smile would worry me if I were buying a car from him :wink:

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Only if it were a used car.

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Maybe we have both Mac and Müller represented here:

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Joy & Strength

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(272) Prose

My own conviction is, that the poetry is far the deepest in us, and that the prose is only broken-down poetry; and likewise that to this our lives correspond. The poetic region is the true one, and just, THEREFORE, the incredible one to the lower order of mind; for although every mind is capable of the truth, or rather capable of becoming capable of the truth, there may lie ages between its capacity and the truth. As you will hear some people read poetry so that no mortal could tell it was poetry, so do some people read their own lives and those of others.

As found in MacDonald’s “Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood” Chapter 7.

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Hm, that’s a really interesting quote!
I wish I were more appreciative of poetry. I think that sometimes, we miss things by social media–when our ancestors relied more on word of mouth, that was a way to really convey more than words.

Thanks.

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Or they quote mine what they take to be the fact nuggets and reject beauty and feeling as so much flotsam as if anything created was waste.

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To any who think GM was ‘soft’ on sin, they should read this … It is a hard one for me to swallow; especially the bolded portion which was what Lewis exclusively chose to quote. Providing the context for the remark does soften it some, I think. But still, the hard edges of the Lewis selection do provoke some reflection for me.

(273) Integrity

“You are more honest than most of your profession,” he said. “But I am far more pleased to offer you the guinea upon the smallest doubt of your having won it.”

“I have no claim upon it.”

“What! Couldn’t you swallow a small scruple like that for the sake of the poor even? Well, I don’t believe YOU could.—Oblige me by taking this guinea for some one or other of your poor people. But I AM glad you weren’t sure of that last book. I am indeed.”

I took the guinea, and put it in my purse.

“But,” he resumed, “you won’t do, Mr Walton. You’re not fit for your profession. You won’t tell a lie for God’s sake. You won’t dodge about a little to keep all right between Jove and his weary parishioners. You won’t cheat a little for the sake of the poor! You wouldn’t even bamboozle a little at a bazaar!”

“I should not like to boast of my principles,” I answered; “for the moment one does so, they become as the apples of Sodom. But assuredly I would not favour a fiction to keep a world out of hell. The hell that a lie would keep any man out of is doubtless the very best place for him to go to. It is truth, yes, The Truth that saves the world.”

“You are right, I daresay. You are more sure about it than I am though.”

“Let us agree where we can,” I said, “first of all; and that will make us able to disagree, where we must, without quarrelling.”

As found in MacDonald’s “Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood” Chapter 9.

It didn’t escape my notice that apparently “Mr. Walton” found his integrity satisfied by his putting forward his objection into the open … more so than the actual refusal of the money - which did end up in his purse after all! Maybe not quite so hard-edged as the bolded portion by itself implied!

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Meh. I love much poetry, certainly not all. It is a different form of human expression among many others. To describe prose as broken-down poetry is a silly prejudice of the Romantic Era (of which MacDonald was on the tail end). They are different and serve different purposes, communicate differently.

For example:
In the last few years at work, I’ve worked a lot with writing and art produced by prisoners. Poetry by a really fine poet like Ethridge Knight delivers a kick in the gut about life behind bars, that the person on the outside can’t image. But it’s short lived and forgettable. Layer that with prisoner-written newspapers of different kinds, DOC reports on prisons, art made by prisoners, bios of the artists, articles about prisons, information about the Innocence Project and on and on. Then you get a much fuller view – far less romantic – that includes tables of statistics, citations to laws, mediocre writing from the heart, dull bureaucratic verbiage and artwork of varying execution and taste, and more.

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Point well taken. Denigrating prose as if it was in a contest with poetry would probably be like denigrating speech because it isn’t singing. They are both prized and needed in their respective niches. Though … I imagine some would try to turn all of life into a musical if they could. [thinking of the comedic TV series: Schmigadoon]

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(274) Contentment

So I walked home, hoping in my Saviour, and wondering to think how pleasant I had found it to be His poor servant to this people. Already the doubts which had filled my mind on that first evening of gloom, doubts as to whether I had any right to the priest’s office, had utterly vanished, slain by the effort to perform the priest’s duty. I never thought about the matter now.—And how can doubt ever be fully met but by action? Try your theory; try your hypothesis; or if it is not worth trying, give it up, pull it down. And I hoped that if ever a cloud should come over me again, however dark and dismal it might be, I might be able, notwithstanding, to rejoice that the sun was shining on others though not on me, and to say with all my heart to my Father in heaven, “Thy will be done.”

When I reached my own study, I sat down by a blazing fire, and poured myself out a glass of wine; for I had to go out again to see some of my poor friends, and wanted some luncheon first.—It is a great thing to have the greetings of the universe presented in fire and food. Let me, if I may, be ever welcomed to my room in winter by a glowing hearth, in summer by a vase of flowers; if I may not, let me then think how nice they would be, and bury myself in my work. I do not think that the road to contentment lies in despising what we have not got. Let us acknowledge all good, all delight that the world holds, and be content without it. But this we can never be except by possessing the one thing, without which I do not merely say no man ought to be content, but no man CAN be content—the Spirit of the Father.

As found in MacDonald’s “Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood” Chapter 11.

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Oh, that was good.
(Of course, my brain is also arguing and finding “issues”. But for now, I will tell it to back off and let the best parts sink in.)

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This may seem a really weird connection, but I found myself thinking of skydiving, that skydiving is like poetry compared to normal life. Pondering that I found myself thinking that snorkeling is like poetry, too.

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That brought back memories! One of the best times of my life was the months I worked myself to near-burnout three times a week practicing for the pit band for a presentation of Brigadoon. I think we practiced for two months before we ever started working with actual practice with the actors – practiced enough that we could pick up at any point in the music; then working with the actors practicing we got till we knew exactly where to pick up in the music given any line in the play, any moment on the stage.
The band didn’t always get invited to the cast party after the show reached the end of the performances, but we did that year.

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I can see that. And it also helps drive home the point that while it’s great to not have a boring life where nothing exciting (no poetry!) ever happens. But on the other hand, one should hope their life isn’t exclusively skydiving either. There would be something wrong with that. Special things are special in part because … well … you don’t often get to do them!

And more to the point … It’s your 99% ordinary life where you’re obliged to keep house, work, earn money and such that enables you to indulge in expensive hobbies like sky diving in the first place!

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(275) Psychical Research

Offered the Spirit of God for the asking, offered it by the Lord himself, in the misery of their unbelief they betake themselves to necromancy instead, and raise the dead to ask their advice, AND FOLLOW IT, and will find some day that Satan had not forgotten how to dress like an angel of light. Nay, he can be more cunning with the demands of the time. We are clever: he will be cleverer. Why should he dress and not speak like an angel of light? Why should he not give good advice if that will help to withdraw people by degrees from regarding the source of all good? He knows well enough that good advice goes for little, but that what fills the heart and mind goes for much. What religion is there in being convinced of a future state? Is that to worship God? It is no more religion than the belief that the sun will rise to-morrow is religion. It may be a source of happiness to those who could not believe it before, but it is not religion.

As found in MacDonald’s “Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood” Chapter 15.

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