I hope no reader will suppose that ‘mere’ Christianity is
here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing
communions—as if a man could adopt it in preference to
Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It
is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms.
If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I
attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are
fires and chairs and meals. The hall is a place to wait in, a place
from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For
that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be)
is, I think, preferable. It is true that some people may find they
have to wait in the hall for a considerable time, while others
feel certain almost at once which door they must knock at. I
do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God
keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to
wait. When you do get into your room you will find that the long
wait has done you some kind of good which you would
not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not
as camping. You must keep on praying for light: and, of
course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the
rules which are common to the whole house. And above all
you must be asking which door is the true one; not which
pleases you best by its paint and panelling. In plain language,
the question should never be: ‘Do I like that kind of service?’
but ‘Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here? Does my con-
science move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at
this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal
dislike of this particular door-keeper?’
When you have reached your own room, be kind to those
who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in
the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more;
and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to
pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole
house.
Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis
