C. S. Lewis:
You must picture me
alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my
mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting
approach of Him whom I so earnestly desired not to meet. That which I
greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term of 1929 I
gave in and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps,
that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I
did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing: the
Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The
Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly
adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is
brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every
direction for a chance of escape? The words compelle intrare,
compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we
shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the
Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men,
and His compulsion is our liberation.
Source: Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life
No comments:
Post a Comment