Granted there were peculiar things held only by his own church, the Church of England, or the Anglican church, as it is sometimes called, or the Episcopal Church, as we term it in the States. Likewise, we Baptists have our own distinctives, such as convert dipping and ballot casting. But there are things both Baptist and Anglicans and all Christians have in common.

Lewis said this Christian family is like a great building. There is a large central hall, with many side rooms. The large central hall is that part of our faith that is common to all. It includes convictions about God, Jesus, salvation and eternity. It includes practices, such as bible reading, hymn singing, and hand shaking. It includes values and behaviors, such as justice, marriage, truth telling, compassion, and forgiveness.

What goes on in the main hall is "mere Christianity." His God-given duty was to assist people in entering this hall. Don't stay there, he said; find one of the side rooms. There you will find fellowship, and friendship, and nourishment, and ministry. But first you must enter the central hall, understand, and experience, and enter into those convictions, practices, and values that constitute mere Christianity.

I was a college student 30 years ago when my mother sent me a paperback copy of Mere Christianity. It had my father's name scrawled in ink inside the front cover. I read that book, I consumed that book, I devoured that book, I delighted in that book. I still have that book, in a way. Actually. I have loaned it to another person. I used to be very protective of my books. I treasure them so. Until I read this from Lewis.

"Yes," my friend said, "I don't see why there shouldn't be books in Heaven. But you will find that your library in Heaven contains only some of the books you had on earth."

"Which?" I asked.

"The ones you gave away or lent."

"I hope the lent ones won't still have all the borrowers 'dirty thumb marks,'" said I.

"Oh yes they will," said he. "But just as the wounds of the martyrs will have turned into beauties, so you will find that the thumb-marks have turned into beautiful illuminated capitals or exquisite marginal woodcuts."

Lewis reinvigorated my confidence in Christian faith. He taught me anew how to believe, with conviction, and knowledge, and clarity.

More than that, he taught me how to think, using logic, and analogy, and consideration, at the same time void of arrogance and anger.

He taught me how to write, using simple, straightforward language.

Yet for all of his erudition as a scholar, for all of his skill as a writer, for all of his courage as an apologist, it was yet one more gift he possessed which, in my judgment, will be his legacy to the world, namely, his imagination.

If my infatuation with Lewis began with the imaginary correspondence between Wormwood and Screwtape (itself being a rather imaginative enterprise) it was my walk through the wardrobe into the land of Narnia that has forever changed the way I think about and enjoy the things of Christ.