“Peculiar People”
GK Chesterton - Charlie Jones
When one confronted GK in some way you confronted Christ and you confronted Him as a fascinating person.
We live in a strange age mind you. We live in an age in which up is down and down is up. We live in an age in which men would rather find death in all its gloom as an answer to life, rather than God in all its happiness.
You see, men behold the glory of creation and seeing that nature repeats herself, he assumes that she is dead. Like some clock left ticking in the tomb of the universe. But it may be that the sun rises every morning because He never got tired of it’s rising. You see, His routine may be due not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life.
Take for instance what I mean, when a child finds a game or a joke he especially enjoys, he says, ‘do it again, do it again,’ and the grown up person does it again until he is nearly dead. That is because grown up people are not strong enough to exalt in monotony.
Perhaps. Perhaps our God is strong enough to exalt in monotony. And perhaps He says every morning to the sun, ‘do it again’ and every evening to the moon, ‘do it again’.
It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike. It could be that our God makes each one of them separately. And he’s never gotten tired of making them. You see, He has the eternal appetite of infancy for we have sinned and grown old but our father, our father is younger than we. He is a happy man, the happy God man who puts modern man to shame for all his gloom and hopelessness.
You see, modern man drinks and shouts across the tavern of time, eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you die. This is not the clarion call to joy. This is rather the voice of doom, chiding the almost dead rats on the sinking ship. He is no more revealer than he is a saint.
Why the early church, the early church, was founded on a serious, joix de vivre. Jesus Christ made wine, not a medicine, but a sacrament. Modern man makes wine not a sacrament but a medicine. He drinks because he is not glad. He revels because he is not joyful. Drink he says, for you know not whence you come nor why. Drink, for you know not when you go nor where. Drink for the stars are cruel and the earth is idle as a humming top. Drink, because there is nothing worth trusting, nothing worth fighting for.
And so he stands offering us the cup in his hand. But at the high alter of Christianity stands another figure in whose hand is also a cup. Drink, he says, for the whole world is as red as this wine with the crimson love and wrath of God. Drink for the trumpets are blowing for battle and this is the syrup cup. Drink, for his is the blood of the new covenant. Drink, for I know of whence you come and why. Drink, for I know of when you go and where.
