Over the past few months I have read Kevin Belmonte’s book The Quotable Chesterton: The Wit and Wisdom of G.K. Chesterton. Belmonte has compiled quotes and organized them in a dictionary format, according to alphabetical order. The quotes were mined from the various genres of literature that Chesterton ventured into. This little volume highlights in bright colors what its subtitle promotes: Wit and Wisdom. Every day I am amazed, amused, and sometimes struck dumb by the clarity and almost poetical insight that this rather large and jovial man of letters produced over the span of his life. Perhaps more striking is the theological and philosophical depth that he reveals in his writing. One can see how and why he had such an impact on one of western civilization’s Christian giants of the 20th century, C.S. Lewis; much like Lewis, Chesterton had the unique ability to see behind and below the surface of things. Simply put, Chesterton was deep; he had substance; in the spirit of Dorothy Sayers, G.K. was well versed in the dramatic ‘drama of Theology.;
A perfect example, not only of his knowledge of the core principle of Christianity, but its proper use in life’s circumstances, was revealed in this piece his most famous fictional work The Man Who Was Thursday, which I am about to share with you. In the face of evil’s dark days and apparent momentary victory, Chesterton’s main character, Syme, finds and rejoices in the ultimate hope of his and civilization’s life. Enjoy! :
“The sealed and sullen sunset behind the dark dome of St. Paul had in it smoky and sinister colours–colours of sickly green, dead red or decaying bronze, that were just bright enough to emphasize the solid whiteness of the snow. But right up against these dreary colours rose the black bulk of the cathedral; and upon the top of the cathedral was a random splash and great stain of snow, still clinging s to an Alpine peak. It had fallen accidentally, but so fallen as to half drape the dome from its very topmost point, and to pick out in perfect silver the great orb and the cross. When Syme saw it he suddenly straightened himself, and made with his sword-stick an involuntary salute. He knew that that evil figure, his shadow, was creeping quickly or slowly behind him, and he did not care. It seemed a symbol of human faith and valour that while the skies were darkening, that high place of the earth was bright. The devils might have captured heaven, but they had not yet captured the cross.” (Chapter 7, pg. 107)
This passage encourages and reminds me, as a church planter and a Christian, that while we battle in the trenches for our glorious King, enduring the many dark days, pains, and often confusion, that our ultimate hope is the Cross of Christ. That in a very counter-intuitive way, the Cross of Christ is truly our mountain of victory and surety of ultimate victory; it was by being swallowed up by darkness that Jesus defeated it for us. By this tremendous act of heroism and grace, darkness and its evil Agent have been defeated. As such, we, I, need not be afraid of the ‘dark’ for as the old southern preachers used to say: ‘Because a Sunday is comin’!’
A perfect example, not only of his knowledge of the core principle of Christianity, but its proper use in life’s circumstances, was revealed in this piece his most famous fictional work The Man Who Was Thursday, which I am about to share with you. In the face of evil’s dark days and apparent momentary victory, Chesterton’s main character, Syme, finds and rejoices in the ultimate hope of his and civilization’s life. Enjoy! :
“The sealed and sullen sunset behind the dark dome of St. Paul had in it smoky and sinister colours–colours of sickly green, dead red or decaying bronze, that were just bright enough to emphasize the solid whiteness of the snow. But right up against these dreary colours rose the black bulk of the cathedral; and upon the top of the cathedral was a random splash and great stain of snow, still clinging s to an Alpine peak. It had fallen accidentally, but so fallen as to half drape the dome from its very topmost point, and to pick out in perfect silver the great orb and the cross. When Syme saw it he suddenly straightened himself, and made with his sword-stick an involuntary salute. He knew that that evil figure, his shadow, was creeping quickly or slowly behind him, and he did not care. It seemed a symbol of human faith and valour that while the skies were darkening, that high place of the earth was bright. The devils might have captured heaven, but they had not yet captured the cross.” (Chapter 7, pg. 107)
This passage encourages and reminds me, as a church planter and a Christian, that while we battle in the trenches for our glorious King, enduring the many dark days, pains, and often confusion, that our ultimate hope is the Cross of Christ. That in a very counter-intuitive way, the Cross of Christ is truly our mountain of victory and surety of ultimate victory; it was by being swallowed up by darkness that Jesus defeated it for us. By this tremendous act of heroism and grace, darkness and its evil Agent have been defeated. As such, we, I, need not be afraid of the ‘dark’ for as the old southern preachers used to say: ‘Because a Sunday is comin’!’