C.S. Lewis in the most important convert on Prime a must see..even for atheists
Posted by scott on January 16, 2026, 5:12 pm
The playwright in the play ( the reluctant convert's song )
(Verse 1) In the hallowed halls of Oxford, ‘neath the weight of ancient stone, A scholar sought the answers in the books he called his own. An atheist by logic, with a cold and steady hand, He mapped the world of reason like a dry and desert land. But at a railway station, in a shop of dusty shelves, He found a "brightened shadow" that revealed our deeper selves. Through the pages of Phantastes, a crack of light broke through, And the "Old Country" he lived in started fading from his view. (Chorus) For the Joy is not a pleasure, and the Joy is not a thrill, It’s the longing for a country that is past the highest hill. Like a playwright in his drama, stepping out onto the stage, The Author wrote Himself into the middle of the page. It’s a choice made on a city bus, a quiet, inward "yes," To unbuckle the rebellion and to finally confess: That the soul is not our own to keep, the Absolute has come, And the wanderer has finally found his way back home. (Verse 2) He chased the occult whispers and the eroticism of the mind, But holiness was the beauty that he couldn't seem to find. It flickered like a candle, then was swallowed by the night, A hunger for a goodness just beyond his mortal sight. Then came the friends of Ink and Myth, with Gospel truth in hand, Who showed him that the "Sensible" was rooted in the land. Not a myth of distant ages, but a fact of bone and breath, The God who entered history to break the back of death. (Bridge) He realized "rock-bottom reality" must have a mind and heart, That the "I AM" isn't a theory, but the finish and the start. In 1929, he knelt—the "reluctant" son returned, While the fire of the Spirit in his cold intellect burned. By '31 he knew the Truth: the stories all were real, And the "weight of glory" was a burden he could feel— For there are no ordinary people, no "mere mortals" in the street, Just immortals destined for a throne or a bitter, dark defeat. (Guitar Solo / Instrumental Build-up) (Outro/Invitation) So here you stand, traveler, with your questions and your pride, With a hunger in your spirit that you’ve tried so hard to hide. Like Lewis, you may find that you were made for "Other Worlds," Where the banner of the King of Kings is finally unfurled. You’re helping one another toward a final, lasting gate, Don't let the "willful blindness" leave your soul to such a fate. The yoke is easy, says the Lord, the burden’s light and thin, He’s standing at the door today—won’t you let the Author in? You don't need a scholar’s library or a wise man’s golden part, Just do what Lewis finally did: Give Him your heart.
