“Jesus Christ did not say ‘Go into all the world and tell the world that it is quite right'” by C.S. Lewis

[The following is an interview with C. S. Lewis, held on the 7th May 1963 in Lewis’s rooms in Magdalene College, Cambridge. The interviewer is Mr Sherwood E. Wirt of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association Ltd.]

Mr Wirt:
Professor Lewis, if you had a young friend with some interest in writing on Christian subjects, how would you advise him to prepare himself?

Lewis:
I would say if a man is going to write on chemistry, he learns chemistry. The same is true of Christianity. But to speak of the craft itself, I would not know how to advise a man how to write. It is a matter of talent and interest. I believe he must be strongly moved if he is to become a writer. Writing is like a ‘lust’, or like ‘scratching when you itch’. Writing comes as a result of a very strong impulse, and when it does come, I for one must get it out.

Mr Wirt:
Can you suggest an approach that would spark the creation of a body of Christian literature strong enough to influence our generation?

Lewis:
There is no formula in these matters. I have no recipe, no tablets. Writers are trained in so many individual ways that it is not for us to prescribe. Scripture itself is not systematic; the New Testament shows the greatest variety. God has shown us that he can use any instrument. Balaam’s ass, you remember, preached a very effective sermon in the midst of his ‘hee-haws’.

Mr Wirt:
A light touch has been characteristic of your writings, even when you are dealing with heavy theological themes. Would you say there is a key to the cultivation of such an attitude?

Lewis:
I believe this is a matter of temperament. However, I was helped in achieving this attitude by my studies of the literary men of the Middle Ages, and by the writings of G. K. Chesterton. Chesteron, for example, was not afraid to combine serious Christian themes with buffoonery. In the same way, the miracle plays of the Middle Ages would deal with a sacred subject such as the nativity of Christ, yet would combine it with a farce.

Mr Wirt:
Should Christian writers, then, in your opinion, attempt to be funny?

Lewis:
No. I think that forced jocularities on spiritual subjects are an abomination, and the attempts of some religious writers to be humorous are simply appalling. Some people write heavily, some write lightly. I prefer the light approach because I believe there is a great deal of false reverence about. There is too much solemnity and intensity in dealing with sacred matters; too much speaking in holy tones.

Mr Wirt:
But is not solemnity proper and conducive to a sacred atmosphere?

Lewis:
Yes and no. There is a difference between a private devotional life and a corporate one. Solemnity is proper in church, but things that are proper in church are not necessarily proper outside, and vice versa. For example, I can say a prayer while washing my teeth, but that does not mean I should wash my teeth in church.

Mr Wirt:
What is your opinion of the kind of writing being done within the Christian church today?

Lewis:
A great deal of what is being published by writers in the religious tradition is a scandal and is actually turning people away from the church. The liberal writers who are continually accommodating and whittling down the truth of the Gospel are responsible. I cannot understand how a man can appear in print claiming to disbelieve everything that he presupposes when he puts on the surplice. I feel it is a form of prostitution.

Mr Wirt:
What do you think of the controversial new book, Honest to God, by John Robinson, the Bishop of Woolwich?

Lewis:
I prefer being honest to being ‘honest to God’.

Mr Wirt:
What Christian writers have helped you?

Lewis:
The contemporary book that has helped me the most is Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man. Others are Edwyn Bevan’s book, Symbolism and Belief, and Rudolf Otto’s The Idea of the Holy, and the plays of Dorothy Sayers.

Mr Wirt:
I believe it was Chesterton who was asked why he became a member of the church, and he replied, ‘To get rid of my sins.’

Lewis:
It is not enough to want to get rid of one’s sins. We also need to believe in the One who saves us from our sins. Not only do we need to recognize that we are sinners; we need to believe in a Saviour who takes away sin. Matthew Arnold once wrote, ‘Nor does the being hungry prove that we have bread.’ Because we are sinners, it does not follow that we are saved.

Mr Wirt:
In your book Surprised by Joy you remark that you were brought into the Faith kicking and struggling and resentful, with eyes darting in every direction looking for an escape. You suggest that you were compelled, as it were, to become a Christian. Do you feel that you made a decision at the time of your conversion?

Lewis:
I would not put it that way. What I wrote in Surprised by Joy was that ‘before God closed in on me, I was in fact offered what now appears a moment of wholly free choice.’ But I feel my decision was not so important. I was the object rather than the subject in this affair. I was decided upon. I was glad afterwards at the way it came out, but at the moment what I heard was God saying, ‘Put down your gun and we’ll talk.’

Mr Wirt:
That sounds to me as if you came to a very definite point of decision.

Lewis:
Well, I would say that the most deeply compelled action is also the freest action. By that I mean, no part of you is outside the action. It is a paradox. I expressed it in Surprised by Joy by saying that I chose, yet it really did not seem possible to do the opposite.

Mr Wirt:
You wrote 20 years ago that ‘A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.’

Would you say your view of this matter has changed since then?

Lewis:
I would say there is no substantial change.

Mr Wirt:
Would you say that the aim of Christian writing, including your own writing, is to bring about an encounter of the reader with Jesus Christ?

Lewis:
That is not my language, yet it is the purpose I have in view. For example, I have just finished a book on prayer, an imaginary correspondence with someone who raises questions about difficulties in prayer.

Mr Wirt:
How can we foster the encounter of people with Jesus Christ?

Lewis:
You can’t lay down any pattern for God. There are many different ways of bringing people into His Kingdom, even some ways that I specially dislike! I have therefore learned to be cautious in my judgment.
But we can block it in many ways. As Christians we are tempted to make unnecessary concessions to those outside the Faith. We give in too much. Now, I don’t mean that we should run the risk of making a nuisance of ourselves by witnessing at improper times, but there comes a time when we must show that we disagree. We must show our Christian colours, if we are to be true to Jesus Christ. We cannot remain silent or concede everything away.

There is a character in one of my children’s stories named Aslan, who says, ‘I never tell anyone any story except his own.’ I cannot speak for the way God deals with others; I only know how He deals with me personally. Of course, we are to pray for spiritual awakening, and in various ways we can do something toward it. But we must remember that neither Paul nor Apollos gives the increase.9 As Charles Williams once said, ‘The altar must often be built in one place so that the fire may come down in another place.’

Mr Wirt:
Professor Lewis, your writings have an unusual quality not often found in discussions of Christian themes. You write as though you enjoyed it.

Lewis:
If I didn’t enjoy writing I wouldn’t continue to do it. Of all my books, there was only one I did not take pleasure in writing.

Mr Wirt:
Which one?

Lewis:
The Screwtape Letters. They were dry and gritty going. At the time, I was thinking of objections to the Christian life, and decided to put them into the form, ‘That’s what the devil would say.’ But making goods ‘bad’ and bads ‘good’ gets to be fatiguing.

Mr Wirt:
How would you suggest a young Christian writer go about developing a style?

Lewis:
The way for a person to develop a style is (a) to know exactly what he wants to say, and (b) to be sure he is saying exactly that. The reader, we must remember, does not start by knowing what we mean. If our words are ambiguous, our meaning will escape him. I sometimes think that writing is like driving sheep down a road. If there is any gate open to the left or the right the readers will most certainly go into it.

Mr Wirt:
Do you believe that the Holy Spirit can speak to the world through Christian writers today?

Lewis:
I prefer to make no judgment concerning a writer’s direct ‘illumination’ by the Holy Spirit. I have no way of knowing whether what is written is from heaven or not. I do believe that God is the Father of lights—natural lights as well as spiritual lights (James 1:17). That is, God is not interested only in Christian writers as such. He is concerned with all kinds of writing. In the same way a sacred calling is not limited to ecclesiastical functions. The man who is weeding a field of turnips is also serving God.

Mr Wirt:
An American writer, Mr Dewey Beegle, has stated that in his opinion the Isaac Watts hymn, ‘When I Survey the Wondrous Cross’, is more inspired by God than is the ‘Song of Solomon’ in the Old Testament. What would be your view?

Lewis:
The great saints and mystics of the church have felt just the opposite about it. They have found tremendous spiritual truth in the ‘Song of Solomon’. There is a difference of levels here. The question of the canon is involved. Also we must remember that what is meat for a grown person might be unsuited to the palate of a child.

Mr Wirt:
How would you evaluate modern literary trends as exemplified by such writers as Ernest Hemingway, Samuel Beckett and Jean-Paul Sartre?

Lewis:
I have read very little in this field. I am not a contemporary scholar. I am not even a scholar of the past, but I am a lover of the past.

Mr Wirt:
Do you believe that the use of filth and obscenity is necessary in order to establish a realistic atmosphere in contemporary literature?

Lewis:
I do not. I treat this development as a symptom, a sign of a culture that has lost its faith. Moral collapse follows upon spiritual collapse. I look upon the immediate future with great apprehension.

Mr Wirt:
Do you feel, then, that modern culture is being de-Christianized?

Lewis:
I cannot speak to the political aspects of the question, but I have some definite views about the de-Christianizing of the church. I believe that there are many accommodating preachers, and too many practitioners in the church who are not believers. Jesus Christ did not say ‘Go into all the world and tell the world that it is quite right.’ The Gospel is something completely different. In fact, it is directly opposed to the world.

The case against Christianity that is made out in the world is quite strong. Every war, every shipwreck, every cancer case, every calamity, contributes to making a prima facie case against Christianity. It is not easy to be a believer in the face of this surface evidence. It calls for a strong faith in Jesus Christ.

Mr Wirt:
Do you approve of men such as Bryan Green and Billy Graham asking people to come to a point of decision regarding the Christian life?

Lewis:
I had the pleasure of meeting Billy Graham once. We had dinner together during his visit to Cambridge University in 1955, while he was conducting a mission to students. I thought he was a very modest and a very sensible man, and I liked him very much indeed.

In a civilization like ours, I feel that everyone has to come to terms with the claims of Jesus Christ upon his life, or else be guilty of inattention or of evading the question. In the Soviet Union it is different. Many people living in Russia today have never had to consider the claims of Christ because they have never heard of those claims.

In the same way, we who live in English-speaking countries have never really been forced to consider the claims, let us say, of Hinduism. But in our Western civilization we are obligated both morally and intellectually to come to grips with Jesus Christ; if we refuse to do so we are guilty of being bad philosophers and bad thinkers.

Mr Wirt:
What is your view of the daily discipline of the Christian life—the need for taking time to be alone with God?

Lewis:
We have our New Testament regimental orders upon the subject. I would take it for granted that everyone who becomes a Christian would undertake this practice. It is enjoined upon us by Our Lord; and since they are His commands, I believe in following them. It is always just possible that Jesus Christ meant what He said when He told us to seek the secret place and to close the door.

Mr Wirt:
What do you think is going to happen in the next few years of history, Mr Lewis?

Lewis:
I have no way of knowing. My primary field is the past. I travel with my back to the engine, and that makes it difficult when you try to steer. The world might stop in ten minutes; meanwhile, we are to go on doing our duty. The great thing is to be found at one’s post as a child of God, living each day as though it were our last, but planning as though our world might last a hundred years.

We have, of course, the assurance of the New Testament regarding events to come. I find it difficult to keep from laughing when I find people worrying about future destruction of some kind or other. Didn’t they know they were going to die anyway? Apparently not. My wife once asked a young woman friend whether she had ever thought of death, and she replied, ‘By the time I reach that age science will have done something about it!’

Mr Wirt:
Do you think there will be wide-spread travel in space?

Lewis:
I look forward with horror to contact with the other inhabited planets, if there are such. We would only transport to them all of our sin and our acquisitiveness, and establish a new colonialism. I can’t bear to think of it. But if we on earth were to get right with God, of course, all would be changed. Once we find ourselves spiritually awakened, we can go to outer space and take the good things with us. That is quite a different matter.”

–C.S. Lewis, “Cross-Examination,” in God in the Dock, ed. Walter Hooper (New York: HarperOne, 1994), 285–295.

“I am sure Aslan knows best” by C.S. Lewis

“TO LAURENCE KRIEG (P):

The Kilns
Headington Quarry
Oxford
April 21st 57

Dear Laurence,

Well, I can’t say I have had a happy Easter, for I have lately got married and my wife is very, very ill.

I am sure Aslan knows best and whether He leaves her with me or takes her to His own country, He will do what is right.

But of course it makes me very sad. I am sure you and your mother will pray for us.

All good wishes to you both.

Yours,

C.S. Lewis”

–C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis: Narnia, Cambridge and Joy 1950–1963, ed. Walter Hooper, vol. 3 (New York: HarperCollins; HarperSanFrancisco, 2004–2007), 3: 847–848.

“Time for you to go to bed” by C.S. Lewis

“TO HILA NEWMAN (W):

Magdalen College,
Oxford.
June 3rd 1953

Dear Hila,

Thank you so much for your lovely letter and pictures. I realised at once that the coloured one was not a particular scene but a sort of line-up like what you would have at the very end if it was a play instead of stories.

The Dawn Treader is not to be the last: There are to be 4 more, 7 in all. Didn’t you notice that Aslan said nothing about Eustace not going back? I thought the best of your pictures was the one of Mr. Tumnus at the bottom of the letter.

As to Aslan’s other name, well I want you to guess. Has there never been anyone in this world who:

(1.) Arrived at the same time as Father Christmas.

(2.) Said he was the son of the Great Emperor.

(3.) Gave himself up for someone else’s fault to be jeered at and killed by wicked people.

(4.) Came to life again.

(5.) Is sometimes spoken of as a Lamb (see the end of the Dawn Treader).

Don’t you really know His name in this world? Think it over and let me know your answer!

Reepicheep in your coloured picture has just the right perky, cheeky expression.

I love real mice. There are lots in my rooms in College but I have never set a trap.

When I sit up late working they poke their heads out from behind the curtains just as if they were saying, ‘Hi! Time for you to go to bed. We want to come out and play.’

All good wishes,

Yours ever,

C.S. Lewis”

–C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis: Narnia, Cambridge and Joy 1950–1963, ed. Walter Hooper, vol. 3 (New York: HarperCollins; HarperSanFrancisco, 2004–2007), 3: 334–335.

“The whole Narnian story is about Christ” by C.S. Lewis

“TO ANNE JENKINS (QUEEN’S UNIVERSITY, BELFAST):

Magdalene College,
Cambridge.
5 March 1961

Dear Anne—

What Aslan meant when he said he had died is, in one sense, plain enough. Read the earlier book in the series called The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and you will find the full story of how he was killed by the White Witch and came to life again. When you have read that, I think you will probably see that there is deeper meaning behind it.

The whole Narnian story is about Christ.

That is to say, I asked myself ‘Supposing there really were a world like Narnia, and supposing it had (like our world) gone wrong, and supposing Christ wanted to go into that world and save it (as He did ours) what might have happened?’

The stories are my answer. Since Narnia is a world of Talking Beasts, I thought He would become a Talking Beast there, as he became a Man here.

I pictured Him becoming a lion there because (a) The lion is supposed to be the King of beasts: (b) Christ is called ‘The Lion of Judah’ in the Bible (Genesis 49:9-10): (c) I’d been having strange dreams about lions when I began writing the books.

The whole series works out like this:

The Magician’s Nephew tells the creation and how evil entered Narnia.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe… the Crucifixion and Resurrection

Prince Caspian… restoration of the true religion after a corruption

The Horse and his Boy… the calling and conversion of a heathen.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader… the spiritual life (especially in Reepicheep)

The Silver Chair… the continued war against the powers of darkness

The Last Battle… the coming of Antichrist (the Ape). The end of the world, and the Last Judgement

All clear?

Yours,

C.S. Lewis”

–C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis: Narnia, Cambridge and Joy 1950–1963, ed. Walter Hooper, vol. 3 (New York: HarperCollins; HarperSanFrancisco, 2004–2007), 3: 1244–1245.

“Never forget Him” by C.S. Lewis

Magdalene College,
Cambridge.
March 1956

Dear Julie Halvorson,

Thank you for the most charming letter I have received in a long time. It made me very happy.

I am also glad that your class has been enjoying the Narnian stories.

But especially am I happy that you know who Aslan is.

Never forget Him.

Yours sincerely,

C.S. Lewis”

–C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis: Narnia, Cambridge and Joy 1950–1963, ed. Walter Hooper, vol. 3 (New York: HarperCollins; HarperSanFrancisco, 2004–2007), 3: 732.

“Hammer your way through a continued argument” by C.S. Lewis

“I should rather like to attend your Greek class, for it is a perpetual puzzle to me how New Testament Greek got the reputation of being easy. St. Luke I find particularly difficult.

As regards matter— leaving the question of language— you will be glad to hear that I am at last beginning to get some small understanding of St. Paul: hitherto an author quite opaque to me.

I am speaking now, of course, of the general drift of whole epistles: short passages, treated devotionally, are of course another matter.

And yet the distinction is not, for me, quite a happy one.

Devotion is best raised when we intend something else. At least that is my experience.

Sit down to meditate devotionally on a single verse, and nothing happens.

Hammer your way through a continued argument, just as you would in a profane writer, and the heart will sometimes sing unbidden.”

–C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis, vol. 2: Books, Broadcasts and War 1931–1949, ed. Walter Hooper (New York: HarperCollins; HarperSanFrancisco, 2004–2007), 2: 136.

“Free unbounded grace” by C.S. Lewis

“The experience is that of catastrophic conversion. The man who has passed through it feels like one who has awaken from nightmare into ecstasy.

Like an accepted lover, he feels that he has done nothing, and never could have done anything, to deserve such astonishing happiness.

Never again can he ‘crow from the dunghill of desert.’ All the initiative has been on God’s side; all has been free, unbounded grace.

And all will continue to be free, unbounded grace. His own puny and ridiculous efforts would be as helpless to retain the joy as they would have been to achieve it in the first place.

Fortunately they need not. Bliss is not for sale, cannot be earned. ‘Works’ have no ‘merit’, though of course faith, inevitably, even unconsciously, flows out into works of love at once.

He is not saved because he does works of love: he does works of love because he is saved. It is faith alone that has saved him: faith bestowed by sheer gift.

From this buoyant humility, this farewell to the self with all its good resolutions, anxiety, scruples, and motive-scratchings, all the Protestant doctrines originally sprang.

For it must be clearly understood that they were at first doctrines not of terror but of joy and hope: indeed, more than hope, fruition, for as Tyndale says, the converted man is already tasting eternal life.

The doctrine of predestination, says the XVIIth Article, is ‘full of sweet, pleasant and unspeakable comfort to godly persons.'”

–C.S. Lewis, English Literature in the Sixteenth Century (Excluding Drama) (New York: HarperCollins, 1954/2022), 38.

“The great and wonderful love which is in the heart of Christ” by Jonathan Edwards

“There is no love so great and so wonderful as that which is in the heart of Christ.

He is one that delights in mercy; He is ready to pity those that are in suffering and sorrowful circumstances; one that delights in the happiness of His creatures.

The love and grace that Christ has manifested does as much exceed all that which is in this world as the sun is brighter than a candle.

Parents are often full of kindness towards their children, but that is no kindness like Jesus Christ’s…

Children ought to love Christ above all, in that He has done more for them than all the men in the world have ever done.

Their parents have done a great deal for them and have suffered a great deal for them—especially their mothers. And both their fathers and mothers have done a great deal in taking care of them, in providing for them and bringing of them up. They have been at a great deal of pains and charge for them.

But they have never done so much for them as Christ has done, for it is Christ that has kept ’em all their lives long. He has kept ’em from death, he has healed ’em when they have been sick.

And they have always lived upon that provision that Christ has made for them. It has been through the hands of their parents, but their parents could not have had it for ’em, had not Christ provided it for them.

They have always lived upon Christ’s provision; He has maintained ’em, and ’tis His wool and His flax that has clothed ’em. If it had not been for Christ’s preservation, they would have been in the grave, and there they would have been eaten up of worms long ago.

And ’tis Christ that has kept ’em out of the hands of the devil. The devils, if Christ permitted ’em, would immediately fall upon and carry them away. ’Tis Christ that has kept ’em out of hell. If it had not been for Christ, they would have been burning in hell among devils long before this time.

’Tis He that keeps ’em every night while they sleep. And, which is more than all, Christ has died for children.

None can conceive what dreadful things Christ has suffered, and all this he suffered not only for grown persons but for children. All children are by nature children of wrath and are in danger of eternal damnation in hell.

But children that live under the gospel have an opportunity to be delivered from hell and to become the children of God, and so to go to heaven when they die, and therefore to be happy and to shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of God, and enjoy rivers of pleasures at God’s right hand forevermore.

And this opportunity they have by the blood of Christ. They could have had no such opportunity but by its costing Christ His life and His undergoing great cruelties and a very tormenting death, though He was God’s only Son.

Now where is any in this world that has done so much for children as this? Where is anything that any have done for them to be compared with this? Surely, then, they ought to love Christ more than all things in this world.”

–Jonathan Edwards, “Children Ought to Love the Lord Jesus Christ Above All,” in Sermons and Discourses, 1739–1742, ed. Harry S. Stout, Nathan O. Hatch, and Kyle P. Farley, vol. 22, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 2003), 22: 171, 173–174. Edward preached this sermon on Matthew 10:37 to the children in his congregation in August 1740.

“As an expositor of Scripture, I regard Manton with unmingled admiration” by J.C. Ryle

“As an expositor of Scripture, I regard Manton with unmingled admiration. Here, at any rate, he is ‘facile princeps’ (‘easily the first or best’) among the divines of the Puritan school.

The value of expository preaching is continually pressed on ministers in the present day, and not without reason.

The end of all preaching is to bring men under the influence of God’s Word; and nothing seems so likely to make men understand and value the Word as lectures in which the Word is explained.

It was so in Chrysostom’s days; it ought to be so again. The idea, no doubt, like every good theory, may be easily ridden to death; and I believe that with ignorant, semi-heathen congregations, a short pithy text often does more good than a long passage expounded.

But I have no doubt of the immense value of expository preaching, when people will bring their Bibles to the service, and accompany the preacher as he travels on, or go home to their Bibles after the service, and compare what they have heard with the written Word.

I hold it to be a prime excellence of Manton’s expository sermons that, while they are very full, they are never too long.

For my own part, I am painfully struck with the general neglect with which these expository works of Manton’s have been treated of late. Modern commentators who are very familiar with German commentaries seem hardly to know of the existence of Manton’s expositions.

Yet I venture boldly to say, that no student of the chapters I have named will ever fail to find new light thrown on their meaning by Manton. I rejoice to think that now at length these valuable works are about to become accessible to the general public.

They have been too long buried, and it is high time they should be brought to light. I value their author most highly as a man, a writer, and a theologian; but if I must speak out all I think, there is no part in which I value him more than as a homiletical expositor of Scripture.

It only remains for me to express my earnest hope that this new edition of Manton’s works may prove acceptable to the public, and meet with many purchasers and readers.

If any one wants to buy a good specimen of a Puritan divine, my advice unhesitatingly is, ‘Let him buy Manton.’

We have fallen upon evil days both for thinking and reading. Sermons which contain thought and matter are increasingly rare.

The inexpressible shallownesss, thinness, and superficiality of many popular sermons in this day is something lamentable and appalling.

Readers of real books appear to become fewer and fewer every year. Newspapers, and magazines, and periodicals seem to absorb the whole reading powers of the rising generation. What it will all end in God only knows.

The prospect before us is sorrowful and humiliating.

In days like these, I am thankful that the publishers of Manton’s Works have boldly come forward to offer some real literary gold to the reading public. I earnestly trust that they will meet with the success which they deserve.

If any recommendation of mine can help them in bringing out the writings of this admirable Puritan in a new form, I give it cheerfully and with all my heart.

J.C. RYLE,
Vicar of Stradbroke, Suffolk.
29th October 1870.”

–J.C. Ryle, “An Estimate of Thomas Manton,” in Thomas Manton, The Works of Thomas Manton, Vol. 2 (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1871/2020), 2: xvii–xix.

“Sin hurts” by Thomas Watson

“Affliction can hurt a man only while he is living, but sin hurts him when he is dead.”

–Thomas Watson, The Lord’s Prayer  (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1662/1999), 309.