A Ferris Wheel of Thought: Burdens, Abandonment, and Counterfeits

In my last post, I assessed Charles Williams’ idea of substitution through the lens of Christ’s teaching and Paul’s admonitions. Incidentally, two encounters in the resplendent heaven of The Great Divorce indicate the danger of carrying burdens, as the ghosts involved become so identified with their respective “burdens” that they cease to exist apart from them. In Chapter 10, a female ghost bears the “burden” of her husband Robert for the sake of “improving” him, and in Chapter 11, a mother bears the “burden” of supposed caring for her son, Michael. Although these examples are a distortion of Williams’ portrayal of substitution, Lewis succeeds in illustrating the danger of so seemingly noble a thing as carrying another’s burdens, even if the motivation be “love.” In both instances, dialogue reveals that the ghosts desire to have husband or son back is actually based upon destructive self-interest. Though the ghost of the wife snuffed out like “a dying candle flame” and the fate of the mother’s ghost is untold, we know that both ghosts are ultimately kept from becoming real and from loving God best by refusing to give up their “burdens.”

Paul admonishes in Galatians 6:2, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” While this is an imperative, The Great Divorce cautions our handling of “burdens,” even if they be familial connections. This brings to mind Jesus’ words in Luke 14: 26, 27, and 33: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple….In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.” This is a difficult teaching, and while I am not going to attempt a textual exegesis of the word hate, I am reminded that following Christ requires us to give up everything and love Christ above all else, even our own family and especially ourselves. As The Great Divorce illustrates, those who held some other love more highly than their desire for God were prevented from journeying toward the sunlit mountains.

In creating the characters of the ghosts, one of the things Lewis does so well is to draw upon elements of human nature that lie within all of us. Although the ghosts that essentially refuse salvation are maddening and exasperating, I find that Lewis creates space for empathy with them. While the ghosts are unable to see what glory they miss in refusing to give up their burdens, facades, and selves, we as readers do. Even through this fictional narrative, perhaps we can be spurred on toward greater abandonment to God – deliberately surrendering our false selves and other loves to Him. As The Great Divorce illustrates, it is not until we give up what is most precious to us that we begin to experience the abundance of life that God longs to give us. This again reminds me of Jesus’ words in Matthew 16:25: “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.”

On one final note, I would like to mention the little red lizard. Although this passage could be interpreted differently, I think it provides a powerful illustration of how things that seem good or provide pleasure can deceive us into believing that they are real. The man with the lizard on his shoulder was afraid of the pain it might cost him to give up the creature. It was not until he willingly endured the pain that the lizard was exposed as a counterfeit of the real thing. He had been terrified of parting with the sniveling little thing when all the while the creature was actually meant to be a stallion! To me, this was a powerful example of evil as a distortion of good, and what could be a more poignant illustration than lust. Ultimately, lust is a distortion of desire, and though it may speak into our ear and tell us it will be good, it is a counterfeit and bondage. I really appreciated Taylor’s honesty in the difficulty of giving it up, but when we do choose to go through that pain of letting it be killed daily within us, we draw closer to experiencing the strength and splendor of desire as God designed.