THE MORAL ARGUMENT MADE SIMPLE

C. S. Lewis noticed something striking about human beings: no matter where you go in the world, people argue. Not just argue—but accuse. “You ought not to have done that.” “That’s not fair.” “You promised.” Even little children, who can barely tie their shoes, somehow know when something is wrong.

And this is Lewis’s starting point: People everywhere believe there is such a thing as right and wrong, and we assume others should know it too. We might disagree on the details—cultures differ, communities differ—but the moment someone cuts in line, steals a wallet, breaks a vow, or hurts an innocent person, we all instinctively feel that a law has been broken. Not just our law. Not just my opinion. But something higher, something we didn’t invent.

Lewis asks a simple question: Where did this deep, inner sense of “ought” come from? If the universe is just atoms, accidents, and chemical reactions, why would we care about justice? Why would we feel guilty? Why would we get angry at cruelty? Matter doesn’t produce morality. Molecules don’t blush. Chemical reactions don’t feel shame. Yet we do.

And so Lewis reaches his famous conclusion: The best explanation for this universal moral law is a universal Lawgiver. A God who made us, stamped His character upon us, and wrote a quiet code inside every heart—a code we recognize even when we break it.

The moral argument isn’t complicated. It’s simply this: We all know there is a real right and a real wrong. Real moral laws need a real moral Lawgiver. That Lawgiver is God.

BDD