The Kilns

“Aim at heaven and you will get earth “thrown in:” aim at earth and you will get neither.”
—C.S. Lewis
Recently I fulfilled a dream of mine in Oxford, England. There I visited The Kilns, the quaint home of the beloved Christian writer C.S. Lewis. When I met my husband in college, he had a lovely dog named Aslan, for the heroic and magical Lion in The Chronicles of Narnia. That was a precursor to our devotion to Lewis’s writings. Later in Divinity School, I read Mere Christianity which offered me an intelligent and accessible foundation to my Christian faith. I would love to have been a fly on the wall at The Eagle and Child pub listening to Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien (also a Mason favorite) and The Inklings discuss the mysteries of God. What a delight for my soul.
It was a snowy November day in Oxford, somewhat mirroring my own chilly faith. I felt shaken by life’s recent events and now searched for Lewis’s trustworthy presence—in his chair, at his desk, hearing about his own life struggles and finally his profound testimonial. Sitting quietly in The Kilns, I was reminded that I have no control over this broken world or its destiny, but there is a radiance inside me (and in all of creation) that will allow me (and you) to rise in the face of whatever beautiful or tragic comes my way.
Childishly, I opened Lewis’s wardrobe brought from his childhood home in Ireland. Narnia was a breath away, maybe could I step over? Through the window, I looked out over the garden and pond. Lewis surely stood here too while writing The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. Hopefully some “fairy dust” sprinkled on me to enliven my own faith and writing.
People have been making pilgrimages throughout history whether a garden, temple, church, burial ground, or in my case a wondrous writer’s desk for validation of a deeper truth. C.S. Lewis would have applauded my efforts as he was convinced the human soul yearned to experience the transcendent on earth.
What I can tell you is my visit to The Kilns was rather unremarkable—just a charming simple cottage in England. But I actually had an a-ha moment there. Lewis was a celebrated author and speaker, but he lived simply, even a bit mundane. It was his interior life that was beyond exceptional.
Lewis said his “atheist turned devoted Christian “conversion resulted from a life-long desire for Something More. He intuited that there was something more, divine even, but it would take years of curiosity, intellect and imagination to find his holy center where God was waiting. C.S. Lewis stepped through his own metaphorical wardrobe and discovered the world to be a divinely-enchanted place where Love ruled, hope was real, and life had no end. Longing was replaced by mystical Joy that would never leave him. Lewis writes in Till We Have Faces, “The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing—to find the place where all the beauty came from.”
On a walk through the Magdalen College gardens in Oxford with J.R.R Tolkien, Lewis decided to place all that he was, all whom he loved, his mind, body, spirit, present and future, into God’s hands. Lewis wrote, “we are rooted to the Absolute, which is the utter reality.”[1]
C.S. Lewis had struggles in his life, losing his mother as a young lad, dealing then with an insufferable father who sent him away to school. With the imminent war looming, Lewis made a pact with his friend that if one of them didn’t make it back from the front, the other would faithfully take care of his family. Lewis suffered a shrapnel wound and was sent back to Oxford to recuperate. His friend was killed early in the war. To his word, Lewis bought The Kilns and moved his friend’s mother and sister into his house and took care of them for the rest of their lives. He would go on to live through another World War opening The Kilns to evacuated children from London during the Blitzkrieg. To his great surprise, at the age of 58, true love came into his life, an American poet named Joy. Tragically she died of cancer soon after.
C.S. Lewis’s spiritual life was not a fairy tale, but like most of us, was filled with great loves and great sufferings. Thankfully, he believed in the ultimate goodness of God. And that is what I took away from The Kilns. The invitation to heaven has already been extended. Hope is real. From first breath to last, God will never step away from us. God is with us for the fragile, the devastating, the catch-your-breath beautiful, and the miraculous. What I call “Hallelujah Hope” is knowing that God can never lose, never fails which means you and I cannot lose or fail. Watch out broken world, God made us invincible.
Faith, as Lewis discovered, comes down to one’s capacity to trust God. We will struggle with this holy responsibility all our earthly days. If we truly trust God, then we should not be frightened by life… or death, but captivated by it—even greedy for all that God has for us on earth… and in heaven.
Riding back to the hotel in my proper English cab, I remembered the words of Albert Camus I learned in Divinity School. “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.” I smiled to myself, a little bit of Aslan lives inside each of us, which gives us power—And a joy that can never be taken away from us.
[1] Surprised by Joy, 227.
Carrie McCormick
January 27, 2025 at 10:15 amThank you for another insightful column. I’m so sorry that you have been experiencing “chilly” times and pray that your full-blown, explosive faith is restored. May the peace of Christ be with you.
Patricia Savage
January 27, 2025 at 10:43 amA beautiful poetic read I will take with me and remind myself throughout the day.
from my heart,
thank you Farrell
Diane Tucker
January 27, 2025 at 1:28 pmWhat an amazing and soul searching trip. Love the way you word your posts. I always feel like I was there with you. Very insightful.
hugs,
di
Rita Harper
January 28, 2025 at 5:49 amSuch in inspiring, soul comforting reflection. One to be shared with others in these unsettling times. Thank you. 🙏