The Last Journey of Jack Lewis
A Conversation of C. S. Lewis with Friedrich Nietzsche and Sigmund Freud
by
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ON NOVEMBER 22, 1963, AROUND 6:30 P.M. Greenwich time, Jack was called by the Lord. Earlier, in a quiet section of Saint Mary’s Hospital in London, England, the golden glow of the autumn sunset streamed through a window into a private room. The warm luminescence of the late afternoon made Jack sentimental, as always. He longed for someone or someplace. Sometimes it was for Mama, sometimes it was for Papa. But in this instance, there was little doubt that he longed for his beloved Joy and his home, The Kilns in Headington, Oxford. Jack wanted to go home, and the doctor granted his wish. Jack’s bed was moved to the downstairs study where Joy had been nursed before she went home.
Jack had not stopped thinking about Joy since she passed away a few years earlier from breast cancer, and he had felt an emptiness ever since. Jack had become more nostalgic for his past. Since becoming sick with chronic kidney disease, he had more often dreamed about returning to a little section of East Belfast called Strand, his childhood hometown and surrounding countryside. There, outside the brick wall of a factory, basking in the golden sunshine of autumn afternoons, he and his friends used to share their hopes and fantasies. Jack often drew enormous joy out of longing. As he was dreaming about those times again, his mood mellowed. Suddenly he felt every bit of strength in his body sucked away, leaving him limp. Even the soft blanket covering his chest seemed to be getting heavier. The room was very quiet, though several people stood around him. He called out to his older brother, Warnie, but Warnie couldn’t hear him. Jack felt like everything was moving away from him. Douglas and David also stood against the wall, focusing sorrowful expressions on Jack, but they couldn’t hear him either. Jack wanted to say he loved them. They were Joy’s children, whom Jack adopted after she passed away. No one hesitated, because they loved one another as much as Joy loved Jack.
Jack said, “I think I am going away,” but Warnie just looked at him. Tears fl owed from Warnie’s eyes and the eyes of the boys. Jack felt tired and limp. He had no strength anymore, and he could not resist closing his heavy eyelids. Then he felt all the pictures of memories he had kept for so long slipping away. Jack thought he heard an angelic chorus of melodies from Finlandia from a distant place and the faint words “Be still my soul” borne aloft by the music. The world was moving farther away from him. Then, curiously, the warmest, most comfortable feeling he had ever experienced began to fi ll him. He felt as if he had missed so many things, and in the next moment he felt as though he had regained everything and was no longer languishing. Now he couldn’t resist the overwhelming desire to sleep. At last he gave in.Rest came easily.
It wasn’t clear how much time passed. Jack sensed someone approaching, a sensation he could not explain. But the feeling was not one he had ever had before. He felt he was in totally unfamiliar surroundings. He also realized that he was awake. Strangely, the feeling of losing strength, the drowsiness, and the fatigue had all vanished. He felt refreshed in a way he The Last Journey of Jack Lewis
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About the Book
When C. S. died in his home, at the Kiln, he found himself in the realm not quite what he expected. He found himself in the realm he could only fantasize and yet he quickly adapted to even Archangel's surprise. He also found a job to do. He was given a most difficult task but child like adventurous Jack took on the task only with joy.
About the Author
The author was raised in a Buddhist family and stood against Christianity for the first half of his life. At the peak of his professional life as a psychiatrist, abruptly he converted to Christianity. As a psychiatrist, he has been fascinated by the ideas of these three game-changing thinkers. This is the conversation.