Lewis, Tolkien, and Kilby

When we were at the local library last Wednesday, I saw this book in the new arrivals:

A Well of Wonder: Vol. 1: Essays on C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and the Inklings
Clyde Kilby, edited by Loren Wilkinson and Keith Call
https://www.paracletepress.com/Products/Default.aspx?bookid=8623

Looks like a great book. I only had a chance to read the introduction, but I hope to get back to it this summer. Meanwhile, enjoy this little snippet from the introduction:

That truth—which kept filling and refilling that “well of wonder” which was Dr. Kilby’s life—was the fact that the whole of created reality is the miraculous gift of a loving, personal, and ever-present Creator. And this was not just a propositional truth intellectually known: it was lived, experienced, and shared. Often it was experienced—and expressed—through the apparently trivial or insignificant. Several of his former students, for example, mention Dr. Kilby’s love for the dandelion, and Marilee Melvin recalls his bringing a drooping dandelion to class and asking, “in a voice filled with awe, how many of you believe that the Lord God made this dandelion for our pleasure on this day.”

Now it is not easy for a college student of any generation, let alone a sober faculty colleague, to take seriously someone who publicly shares his awe over a dandelion; there were many who were themselves mystified by the life-changing effect Dr. Kilby had on people. Since I, too, am one of those whose life was changed by the man, I want to try to express something of the mystery of how and why that change was effected.

The dandelion incident calls to mind G. K. Chesterton’s words in Orthodoxy (one of the many books that I read first through Dr. Kilby’s recommendation).

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning ‘Do it again’ to the sun, and every evening ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that he has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

I love that idea…maybe because I am continually in awe of creation. To think that there are bears out there rambling around with no one to enjoy watching them except God; loons calling and diving, but only God notices. The list goes on and on.

Just an
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