Dept. of Redundancy Dept.: A Post in Praise of Chesterton

In a Blog named after G. K. Chesterton, it seems like it would be an excessively silly thing to praise Chesterton. Therefore I shall do so.

Chesterton's fiction and essays, at their best, have a sort of infectious joy which makes me want to either blow up a random, expensive-looking building or conscientiously follow the speed limit - but in either case, to do so with an excess of joy and pleasure in the humanity of the event. There's just something about a man who writes, to choose a quote almost at random, "Civilization is not to be tested by the rapidity of communication, but by the value of what is communicated. I can sent to my next-door neighbour the message-"You are an ass." I have not greatly advanced in civilization merely because I can send the same intelligent message to a man in Australia." And while that comment is perhaps not the most standard candidate for the core state of Chesterton's beliefs, I think it sums up a lot of what he has to say.

The "argument" of this text, that people commonly mistake progress in methodology as some sort of great, grand moral-progress-and-aren't-we-so-much-better-than-those-Medieval-savages-descended-from-cave-men is, of course, one I find rather valid. But more importantly is the example, that of sending one's neighbor a letter stating "you are an ass."

C. S. Lewis once said something to the point of "it is easy to imagine a state of holiness higher than you are at, and then to describe it and thereby convince yourself and others that you are actually at that state." I think that a lot of the Christians I've known tend towards that particular sin. I know that the one Christian I know most well (myself) tends towards that particular sin. One can talk about self-control and the power of the Spirit and how through Christ we have already overcome the World and all that all day, and one will be right. But if one doesn't admit himself "the chief of all sinners," then one is going to be rather misleading and heretical, no matter how correct one's doctrine. And when two or more refuse to admit themselves "the chief of all sinners," then can be seen a "Christian culture."

Therefore, it comes as some amazing breath of fresh air when I read about Chesterton's desire to mail to his neighbor a note "you are an ass," or his musings about how nice it would be if he could just murder a few of his more pernicious enemies. All of a sudden, I see that there is such a thing as natural desires that must be fought against, even for Christians. And I see that the Christian life is, after all, a journey and a process. But the bigger thing than that is that there isn't an aura of penace for these desires. I'm not sure how correct it is, but I think there's something remarkably liberating in realizing that there's a difference between temptation and sin, and viewing temptation as a healthy and very human action. He who desires in his heart to murder his brother is as if he has already murdered him. But I really don't think that the same thing is true of the exasperated mother who says "sometimes I just wish I could wring their filthy little necks." In fact, I think that any good mother would make such comments.

In truth, a very useful question to ask is "what is the Christian life?" Is it the life of Paul and the twelve disciples (other than Judas), marching around the world, preaching the gospel, and getting killed or banished? Is it the life of those they wrote to, who were encouraged to do such mundane activities as abstaining from sexual immorality and working hard, as for the lord? Is it the life of caring for one's loved ones ("John, behold thy mother," "Martha, Martha, Martha") in a way different from caring for the Lord?

Or to phrase it within the Catholic tradition: Is the Christian life the life of St. Thomas of Aquinas, the "dumb ox" who slowly, stubbornly, and intellectually built up a theology that brought people away from many heresies and firmed up the intellectual arguments for Christianity? Or is it the life of St. Francis of Assisi, who despised classical education, exhibited an extreme lack of planningness in his life, and who always focused on caring for the lepers, the poor, and even the creatures of nature (and who therefore caused a popular revolution that resulted in not only the creation of friars, but also a second order (for women) and a third order (for family men, and which included a great number of the most powerful shapers of Christendom)?

I think that any sane Christian (not to mention a great number of insane Christians) would have to answer both questions with "yes, all of the above." But I think that's where evangelicism has gone dreadfully wrong. We want icons, but we don't allow a diversity of icons, because we've gotten rid of saints. Therefore everyone must be a Billy Grahm; only the spiritually weak should be the Sunday School teacher who lead him to Christ. Everyone should be a C. S. Lewis; no one should be a J. R. R. Tolkien, who despised preachy literature but lead Lewis to Christ. Jesus may have been known as the companion of drunks, tax collectors, and sinners, but any Christian who has a beer is suspect (another great feature of Brits like Lewis, Tolkien, and Chesterton - they, like me, understood the value of a good ale.) To paraphrase Chesterton, humans and even Christians require examples; Evangelicals just allow only boring examples, under the pretense of "following clearly only Christ."

Which is why I like Chesterton. He's Medieval (as he viewed it), not Modern; that is to say, he's a Liberal and a Conservative (they once meant basically the same thing) with a hint of that comaraderie that Socialists thrive on, and not a Libertarian. He constantly praises differences and friendship and healthy argument in defense of truth, not tolerance and diversity. In other words, he remembers all the aspects of Christianity Luther so feared would get forgotten with the Reformation. As he put it, "Christianity is not a religion, Christianity is a Church." And the Church ought to work the deeds of God in the world, which is so much more than speaking the "Simple Gospel Message." But to explain any Christian's theology in one short paragraph to many audiences is impossible - it is enough to say he never forgot the one central event of the universe, the unifying refrain of God's workings within humanity. "And the Word became flesh, and made its dwelling among us."