In “Mere Christianity,” C.S. Lewis penned the following:
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
This reflection is profoundly humbling to me and resonates with truth. How often do I seek Christ merely to address my immediate “problems” – the leaky kitchen faucets and malfunctioning air conditioners of life? “And, Lord, whatever you do, leave the rest of my house alone, Lord Jesus, especially the basement; spare them, for I prefer them untouched!”
Can we truly compartmentalize our lives, allowing Christ access to certain areas but barring Him from others? As Lewis powerfully expresses, I yearn for minor refurbishments, a modernized kitchen, but Christ envisions something grander. Christ must knock down the entire house, for my roots are too rotten to support the palace He envisions. Only by strengthening the foundation can He erect the dwelling He intends. Therefore, He must raze the structure, fortify the base, and then erect a palace for His presence in my life.
Curiously, in my quest to trace C.S. Lewis’s reference to George MacDonald, I surmised it originated from “A Book of Strife in the Form of the Diary of an Old Soul” (1880). (https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1953/1953-h/1953-h.htm) On the July 15 and 16 entry, the diarist writes:
15 July
Too eager I must not be to understand.
How should the work the master goes about
Fit the vague sketch my compasses have planned?
I am his house—for him to go in and out.
He builds me now—and if I cannot see
At any time what he is doing with me,
‘Tis that he makes the house for me too grand.
16 July
The house is not for me—it is for him.
His royal thoughts require many a stair,
Many a tower, many an outlook fair,
Of which I have no thought, and need no care.
Where I am most perplexed, it may be there
Thou mak’st a secret chamber, holy-dim,
Where thou wilt come to help my deepest prayer.
Vincent
Thank you for pulling out my roots!
4 May 2024