“Chesterton believed that a godly way of life is the best way of all ways. It’s the way the world is supposed to work, the way the world is meant to be…So often, the church is viewed as this finger-wagging, don’t-have-fun institution. Those of us who are in it know that that’s a caricature, but that is the impression a lot of people have. Chesterton would say exactly the opposite. He would say: ‘To have fun, live the way God intended life to be lived—the Christian way.’”
– Philip Yancey
The CDC has completely forgotten to warn us about one of the most toxic symptoms of COVID19: Not only does this nasty virus take away some people’s ability to taste and smell, but it has stolen joy and laughter from all of us. We have lost mirth, no longer having sunshine on a cloudy day, forgetting Bobby McFerrin’s impish wish for us, “don’t worry, be happy.” Across the nation, people seem so dreadfully serious that comedy itself has become a crime in some circles. I have never seen anything like it, and the George Floyd fiasco hasn’t helped.
Where has the mirth gone? Why has normal everyday conversation been so ramped up to the point where either people are cussing each other out, or no one is talking? Disagreement is now interpreted as hate, and argument is akin to murder. Eggshells and broken glass line the roads of communication so no one wants to venture out anymore. And when they do, the thought police cries “foul.”
I was talking about this with my brother-in-law over the weekend and he was mentioning to me about a very serious book written by highly educated sociologists and how gravely they talked about the big issues of the day like “intersectionality”, “critical race theory”, “cultural Marxism”, “white fragility”, and every new “ism” you could imagine. He said after reading it he began to laugh because he said the people writing this book truly believed they are now thinking thoughts that no one has ever thought before. Their arguments and ethical positions are nothing more than dusty old thoughts packaged in new wrapping paper of modern progressive scholarship.
The problem, he believes, is that the bitter root in all of their writings is that they take themselves far too seriously.
This comment instantly brought me back to person that lived in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s in London, England named G. K. Chesterton. He was a prolific writer and also a man of Orthodox Christian beliefs living in a world that was transitioning into a post-Christian world. Philip Yancey, in his introduction to G. K. Chesterton’s book “Orthodoxy”, writes about him as a man who, “straddled the turn of the century, from the nineteenth to the twentieth, when such movements as modernism, communism, fascism, pacifism, determinism, Darwinism, and eugenics were coming to the fore. As he surveyed each one, he found himself pressed further and further toward Christianity, which he saw as the only redoubt against such potent forces. Eventually he accepted the Christian faith not simply as a bulwark of civilization, but rather as an expression of the deepest truths about the world.”
But instead of fighting these imposing “isms” with heavy handed arguments and stoic reason, Chesterton used humor and mirth. Yancey writes, “Chesterton was grossly overweight, over 300 pounds sometimes, and he joked about it as much as anybody. He just had that disarming approach of levity towards the world. He didn’t take things too seriously. And I think we evangelicals do…We’re not particularly good at humor. We’re susceptible to our own form of political correctness—it’s different from what you’ll find in academia, but it’s there.”
Chesterton understood the art of levity. And as Yancey points out, it is something the evangelical world desperately needs to counter this deadly serious world. Here is a funny story about Chesterton written by Frank Kafka, a wavering atheist, after he witnessed a debate between Chesterton and George Bernard Shaw the Irish playwright and outspoken atheist, “Chesterton usually arrived late, peered through his pince-nez at various scraps of paper on which he had scrawled notes, and proceeded to entertain the crowd, laughing heartily at his own jokes. Puffing through his mustache, his eyes twinkling, he would defend such “reactionary” concepts as original sin and the Last Judgment. Typically he would charm the audience over to his side, then celebrate by hosting his chastened opponent at the nearest pub. ‘He is so gay, that one might almost believe he had found God.’”
As my brother-in-law and I were talking about the stifling intellectual rigidity of our culture, we ended up relating this to how serious Jehovah Witnesses are in their debates when they come to your front door. They want to win you into heaven through argumentation…but it isn’t logic that wins a heart, it is joy. I personally watched this when a couple of Jehovah Witnesses came to the door and my brother Don answered it. After a few minutes he looked at them smiling and said, ”I tell you what, if you have better things to offer me than I already have I will give you a listen.” So then he gave them a short list of all he had in his true faith in Christ…
“I have a guarantee of an eternal home in heaven, with a Father who provides for me, a Son who died for me, and the Holy Spirit who will be with me forever. I have been given a loving wife, children who love me on this earth. I have his spoken word written down in words that will never die. I have the certainty of knowing that no matter what I do, where I go, my God has promised to love me. Since my debt has been paid in full, I have nothing left to do other than worship and adore him.”
Then he looked to the two Jehovah Witnesses and said, “Now tell me, do you have anything better to offer me?” They smiled, turned and walked away. My brother used no anger, no arguments, just kindness.
I have been searching my heart of late and I have realized I get far too easily angered. In my pride I want to win, as if logic and reason are the tools to persuade. But considering G. K. Chesterton again, and even taking my brother-in-law’s and brother Don’s example, I realized it is time for me to enjoy what I do have. And hopefully the result will be encouraging a new jealousy in the person watching me. In Romans 11:13-14 Paul talks about how he is hoping the example of the Gentiles coming to faith will, “somehow make the people of Israel jealous of what the Gentiles have, so I might save some of them.”
If people can look at me and see that I have “better things”, spiritual and eternal things that are the real things of life, and I can honestly have “Malice Toward None”, then I think I have done my job. Mirth sells. And after thinking about it, arguing and anger actually project the idea that I am not satisfied with what I have.
I realized I can’t get upset with the LGBTQ movement, I am sad for them, they are the ones who seem so angry. I grew up with a great mom and dad, and I was able to continue that pattern on to my kids. It is refreshing to have children that never battle with their God given gender. I am not being arrogant, nor dismissive of the confusion out there, I am just saying a life of experienced joy in God through loving parents and a safe home makes sense to children, it brings them blessing. They love it! So with my traditional family, there is nothing I have to prove. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “The group consisting of mother, father and child is the main educational agency of mankind.”
I have two daughters, and four sisters who are my friends. Maybe the reason they don’t fight for feminist rights is because they see in their dad and brother a person and a friend, not a member of a tyrannical group that is trying to grab power. What power do men actually want? Female slavery? How silly. How could my daughters hate men when every time they ask me for something, I do my best to get it for them if it’s going to help them? (Also, my wife runs the house as most good men will admit).
I love the church. Does the church have problems? Do people leave because they have been hurt? Sure, but why does the whole community always get indicted by the actions of the few? Here is what the church means to me: a group of people who will help a family after a tragic loss of a loved one, an organization that will give to the poor in the community over, and over, and over again. A family that helps raise my kids. A leadership that does its best to understand different cultures around them to learn how to best serve them. A place where most people forgive. Are politics talked about in church? Yes, but not as much as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness and self-control.
I am amazed that Jesus died for me. Why do I have to fight for my rights, my equal economic standing when the person who owns the world gave it all up? Why do I need to compare myself with the guy who owns the million dollar house down the road – like it is his fault for me and my family choosing to live in a medium-sized three bedroom ranch? Jesus tells me to lay my treasures in heaven where moth and rust cannot destroy. This fading world is not worth comparing to heaven and a new glorified body that will be revealed in me. Seems to me most political wrangling is about how can I get mine down here, when Jesus says my true country is still waiting for me.
Am I prejudiced? Inherently racist? I honestly don’t think so, but I am willing to listen and have it pointed out where I specifically wronged someone. I just wish for real relationships with people where we can be honest about everyday life, rather than considering the other person to be part of some evil repressive power group which is determined by angry scholars or media pundits who take the world far too seriously. Jesus tells me to treat other people better than myself. But I also am willing to help those who have been wronged by the systems we have put in place. I have no problem supporting and giving money to organizations that are trying…but money honestly doesn’t fix anything. I have lived with people of every race, and the more I know someone the less I see their skin color. I have found people of every stripe have selfish hearts, and yet we are still called to love, admonish and bear patiently with each other. If people want to pigeonhole me as a hater, usually I find they don’t actually know me.
Praise God that I still have freedom to express my opinions, even argue them if I believe they are best for society at large. But if I lose them, that is okay, let them take my rights, my stuff, my title…I really do entrust myself to him who judges justly. And because of that I still have joy.
Anger means I think procuring my rightful due and my perfect future is all up to me. Jesus says look to the lilies of the field and relax.
Today I walked my dog. Nothing special, I just prayed and watched the sun gently warm the morning sky. I am able to do that every morning. In that moment today, my dog chased a rabbit, it made me laugh, and it felt good. The problems of the world were still there, but I could laugh because in myself I have peace.
G. K. Chesterton laughed a lot. Because he found his peace in Christ. A final quote by Chesterton says it all to me, “The riddles of God prove more satisfying than the answers proposed without God.” Do you have peace?
