One of the first philosophical arguments I ever encountered was C. S. Lewis' argument, found in his book Miracles, that naturalism is self-refuting because it is inconsistent with the validity of reasoning.1 The argument fascinated me, and as a young Christian I never missed a chance to present it in discussions with skeptics. I later discovered that this argument was the subject of the famous controversy with Elizabeth Anscombe, in response to which Lewis revised his argument.2 However, in my graduate studies in philosophy I discovered, with some exceptions, that the argument had received little attention even from Christian philosophers and was dismissed by many. As I analyzed the various ways in which the argument could be answered, the firmer the rock appeared on which it stood. And so when it came time to write my doctoral dissertation, I chose to defend this argument against naturalism. Even though my committee was solidly opposed to the conclusion of my argument, they nevertheless passed my dissertation.
I'm still persuaded that Lewis' argument is a good one. And the best way to honor Lewis' apologetic achievement, it seems to me, is not simply by repeating what he says, but by developing his ideas, asking probing questions of them, and developing the discussion in ways that reflects one's own thinking as well as Lewis'. The result of such refection on my part has persuaded me that, indeed, Christianity is credible for approximately the reasons that Lewis said it was. I believe that to a large extent not enough of this further reflection has been done in the secondary Lewis literature, and that is why I believe that despite Lewis' enormous popularity, subsequent apologists have underutilized the resources that he has provided for them.
All too often, Lewis' career as an apologist has been assessed biographically, focusing on Lewis himself rather than what he had to say. So, for example, it is often suggested that Lewis was profoundly upset by his exchange with Anscombe, and therefore he himself realized his apologetic arguments were inadequate. And this is frequently done without analyzing the points at issue in the debate. Thus a kind of "Anscombe legend" has shrouded Lewis' apologetic career, which in many minds seems to have outlived the actual arguments Lewis and Anscombe presented.3 The following passage, from Humphrey Carpenter's The Inklings, is a case in point:
Miracles was published in 1947. Early the following year, its third chapter, in which Lewis proved that human Reason is independent of the natural world, was publicly attacked at the Socratic Club, not by an atheist, but by a fellow Christian, the Catholic philosopher Elizabeth Anscombe. Lewis was unprepared for the severely critical analysis to which she submitted his arguments, for she proved in her turn that his "proof" was severely faulty. It is true that Lewis's most fervent supporters felt that she had not demonstrated her point successfully, but many who were at the meeting thought that a conclusive blow had been struck against one of his most fundamental arguments. Certainly after it was all over Lewis himself was in very low spirits. He and Hugo Dyson had organised an informal dining club with four of their pupils, Philip Stibbe, Tom Stock, Peter Bayley, and Derek Brewer, and the club happened to meet a couple of days after the Socratic duel. Brewer wrote in his diary: "None of us was at first very cheerful. Lewis was obviously deeply disturbed by his encounter last Monday with Miss Anscombe, who had disproved some of the central theory of his philosophy about Christianity. I felt quite painfully for him. Dyson said—very well—that now he had lost everything and had come to the foot of the Cross—spoken with great sympathy." Brewer adds that Lewis's imagery was "all of the fog of war, the retreat of infantry thrown back under heavy attack."






