Some weeks ago I finished Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis and started writing a review, but got distracted and busy and haven’t gotten back to it. I do intend to finish it soon: one difficulty is that there are a number of good quotes from the book I want to use, but if I use all of them it would make for an exceptionally long post.
One quote, however, has been on my mind, and I wanted to go ahead and post it separately. It’s from the chapter “Beyond Personality” in a section that discusses the dilemma of how you can sometimes have an unsaved person who is actually nicer than some Christians. Lewis goes into many reasons for that which I won’t reproduce here, but one reason has to do with general disposition. Person A may be a quieter, calmer person and generally nice and personable, yet unsaved. Person B may have a more excitable personality and a fiery temper which the Lord has been giving him grace to overcome, and he may be a lot better than he was, yet compared with Person A he doesn’t seem as nice. Lewis then goes on to say (emphasis mine):
If you have sound nerves and intelligence and health and popularity and a good upbringing, you are likely to be quite satisfied with your character as it is. “Why drag God into it?” you may ask. A certain level of good conduct comes fairly easily to you. You are not one of those wretched creatures who are always being tripped up by s*x, or dipsomania, or nervousness, or bad temper. Everyone says you are a nice chap and (between ourselves) you agree with them. You are quite likely to believe that all this niceness is your own doing: and you may easily not feel the need for any better kind of goodness. Often people who have all these natural kinds of goodness cannot be brought to recognize their need for Christ at all until, one day, the natural goodness lets them down and their self-satisfaction is shattered….
If you are a nice person — if virtue comes easily to you — beware! Much is expected from those to whom much is given. If you mistake for your own merits what are really God’s gifts to you through nature, and if you are contented with simply being nice, you are still a rebel: and all those gifts will only make your fall more terrible, your corruption more complicated, your bad example more disastrous. The Devil was an archangel once; his natural gifts were as far above yours as your are above those of a chimpanzee.
….We must not suppose that even if we succeeded in making everyone nice we should have saved their souls. A world of nice people, content in their own niceness, looking no further, turned away from God, would be just as desperately in need of salvation as a miserable world — and might even be more difficult to save.
For mere improvement is no redemption, though redemption always improves people even here and now and will, in the end, improve them to a degree we cannot yet imagine. God became man to turn creatures into sons: not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man.
If what you want is an argument against Christianity (and I well remember how eagerly I looked for such arguments when I began to be afraid it was true) you can easily find some stupid and unsatisfactory Christian and say, “So there’s your boasted new man! Give me the old kind.” But if you once have begun to see that Christianity is on other grounds probable, you will know in your heart that this is only evading the issue. What can you ever really know of other people’s souls — of their temptations, their opportunities, their struggles? One soul in the whole creation you do know: and it is the only one whose fate is placed in your hands. If there is a God, you are, in a sense, alone with Him. You cannot put Him off with speculations about your next door neighbors or memories of what you have read in books. What will all that chatter and hearsay count (will you even be able to remember it?) when the anesthetic fog which we call “nature” or “the real world” fades away and the Presence in which you have always stood becomes palpable, immediate, and unavoidable?
Stray Thoughts 
The one thing I’d say about this is simply that I don’t think a person has to be saved to be nice. I would prefer all nice people I know were saved but they’re not. Hopefully a little of me will eventually rub off on them and they will be saved, but they’re still nice.
Barb, I think that’s exactly what Lewis is saying. There are some very nice people who are unsaved. He’s just warning them not to trust in their own niceness to be enough before God.
One of my dear friends had a hard time coming to the Lord for that very reason — she felt she was every bit as good as the people witnessing to her and therefore didn’t “need” to be saved. Thankfully the light finally broke through.
I was telling my kids last night it is kind of like when I but new t-shirts. The old ones looked ok until I put the new ones in the drawer with their dazzling whiteness — then the old ones look shabby. That’s just a very small, inadequate picture of what our righteousness looks like next to Christ’s.
The interesting thing about this book is that Lewis came from an atheistic background and did not want to accept Christianity, but finally became convinced it was true. Once he accepted the Lord, then he could ‘see” things clearly that didn’t make sense before. But his writing gives real insight into how things look from that angle.