courage
If our life is ever really as beautiful as a fairy tale, we shall have to remember that all the beauty of a fairy tale lies in this: that the prince has a wonder which just stops short of being fear. If he is afraid of the giant, there is an end of him; but also if he is not astonished at the giant, there is an end of the fairy tale. The whole point depends upon his being at once humble enough to wonder, and haughty enough to defy. So our attitude to the giant of the world must not merely be increasing delicacy or increasing contempt: it must be one particular proportion of the two - which is exactly right. We must have in us enough reverence for all things outside us to make us tread fearfully on the grass. We must also have enough disdain for all things outside us, to make us, on due occasion, spit at the stars. Yet these two things (if we are to be good or happy) must be combined, not in any combination, but in one particular combination. The perfect happiness of men on earth (if it ever comes) will not be a flat and solid thing, like the satisfaction of animals. It will be an exact and perilous balance; like that of a desperate romance. Man must have just enough faith in himself to have adventures, and just enough doubt of himself to enjoy them.
Don’t you want to go back to the top and read that quote again? I read it this morning in a time of quietness, what better way to refresh the soul and enjoy God than with Chesterton? If you have not heard me say it before then I will say it again: please, for your sake, before you die, read his Orthodoxy.
The passage encourages me. As I and the film crew come up against this giant of a film we’ve attached ourselves to, I recognize the need for faith. For me faith, at least in this instance, requires courage. Because I could look so foolish for failing. Because it is hard to believe for what you cannot accomplish in your own strength.
I’ve been reminded this week, as I prepare to speak in Gateway Christian School’s morning assembly, of a true faith experience I had in Malaysia. When my friend Johnny cascaded over a waterfall and moments later we carried his battered body my prayer was, God help! If you don’t my friend is dead. And I remember that there were two times in the hospital in the weeks that followed, though I believed for miracles, that I had to face the real possibility that he could die. Faith was a desperate balance; a perilous romance. All these months later, having seen those prayers answered, I remember the exhaustion of it all, but I am thankful. And still, and always, there will be some fear, some undesirable possibilities that come with the desperation of faith.
I deeply admire and am thankful for Chesterton, that Orthodoxy, in particular, fell into my life. You can enjoy more of his notable quotes on my Quotes List where Chesterton is featured exclusively this month. He will, soon, however, share the space with another noted author.
When I left the book for a moment, a question formed in my mind, somewhere in the realm of thought “as a man hears a church bell above the sound of the street.” I asked myself if, like Chesterton, I love the world but am separate enough from it to tell the truth in all its blatant fascination and verve as he. The answer, simply is no. But that no is slowly, surely, even magically being reformed into yes.
Don’t you want to go back to the top and read that quote again? I read it this morning in a time of quietness, what better way to refresh the soul and enjoy God than with Chesterton? If you have not heard me say it before then I will say it again: please, for your sake, before you die, read his Orthodoxy.
The passage encourages me. As I and the film crew come up against this giant of a film we’ve attached ourselves to, I recognize the need for faith. For me faith, at least in this instance, requires courage. Because I could look so foolish for failing. Because it is hard to believe for what you cannot accomplish in your own strength.
I’ve been reminded this week, as I prepare to speak in Gateway Christian School’s morning assembly, of a true faith experience I had in Malaysia. When my friend Johnny cascaded over a waterfall and moments later we carried his battered body my prayer was, God help! If you don’t my friend is dead. And I remember that there were two times in the hospital in the weeks that followed, though I believed for miracles, that I had to face the real possibility that he could die. Faith was a desperate balance; a perilous romance. All these months later, having seen those prayers answered, I remember the exhaustion of it all, but I am thankful. And still, and always, there will be some fear, some undesirable possibilities that come with the desperation of faith.
I deeply admire and am thankful for Chesterton, that Orthodoxy, in particular, fell into my life. You can enjoy more of his notable quotes on my Quotes List where Chesterton is featured exclusively this month. He will, soon, however, share the space with another noted author.
When I left the book for a moment, a question formed in my mind, somewhere in the realm of thought “as a man hears a church bell above the sound of the street.” I asked myself if, like Chesterton, I love the world but am separate enough from it to tell the truth in all its blatant fascination and verve as he. The answer, simply is no. But that no is slowly, surely, even magically being reformed into yes.