It disturbs me profoundly that so many who call themselves Christian fail at the two most important things Jesus said (Matthew, 22:37-40).
“Love God with everything you are.” (Subtext: Know yourself, and love God with all of it.)
“Love others as you love yourself.” (Subtext: Love yourself so that you can love others.)
“Everything depends on these two commandments.” (Subtext: If you’re following a law that does not support love, you’re doing something wrong.)
The lesson here is not that gay people should see their homosexuality as a test of faith. If God is Love, and Jesus is God incarnate, then if there’s a test it’s one of love.
So here’s the test, and it’s for everyone: We are to love others whether or not the way God made them makes us uncomfortable; and as for those others, their test is to love us, even when we fail.
Love this reframe! I've been delighted to see how far affirming churches have gone to liberate the gospel from evangelicalism's stranglehold. Much more is needed, and I'm no longer the person to do that work, but I applaud and appreciate all who do.
While I am neither a believer nor a queer, I think I can understand this double predicament.
Being lost looking for an identity. I am still not sure I found mine, I may have just learned to live with the discomfort. In any case, I appreciate to see this second review on this Substack dealing with the issue of faith. It's fascinating to me.
Thanks for this thought-provoking essay. Your description of a “romantic romp through the world of modernist thought” is alluring. Claiming ownership of paradox - as if because we humans can perceive it, we created it - puts us right at the center of everything. Imagine that. I’m confused by the idea of wrecking “the whole world for the sake of itself” -- could you elaborate? What “world” I’d being wrecked? The human-centric, imposed world of our orthodoxies or this actual, living breathing world of Earth?
Hi Julie, thanks for your thoughtful response! That's a good point, how it's anthropocentric to claim ownership of paradox. I think Chesterton is comparing Christianity to other human worldviews, which he believes fail to account for the theme of paradox already present in the world. Of course, the way Christianity "accounts" for it is by explaining it's an aspect of God's character as well – seemingly in contradiction with itself, but actually just the perfect shape. By contrast what we see as the status quo, our human measures of "normal," are, according to his version of orthodoxy, the odd ones out.
Connecting this to wrecking the world for the sake of itself – there's a passage in chapter 5, "The Flag of the World," that's just incredibly beautiful. I highly recommend reading it for yourself, but here's an excerpt to whet the appetite:
"On this system one could fight all the forces of existence without deserting the flag of existence. One could be at peace with the universe and yet be at war with the world. St. George could still fight the dragon, however big the monster bulked in the cosmos, though he were bigger than the mighty cities or bigger than the everlasting hills. If he were as big as the world he could yet be killed in the name of the world. St. George had not to consider any obvious odds or proportions in the scale of things, but only the original secret of their design. He can shake his sword at the dragon, even if it is everything; even if the empty heavens over his head are only the huge arch of its open jaws."
So yes, I've taken this to mean we can rebel against all imposed orders, even if they turn out to be civilization itself. It's a stretch of the imagination: can we even conceive of a world without money or military, property or politicians, jobs or jails (in other words without capitalism or the state)? If Chesterton is right, then we can. Even if we've never known anything else, we can still insist on a different way of living, knowing that another world is possible. And when we fight to bring that world into being, we will have to fight against every facet of the one that exists – but that doesn't mean kill and destroy and leave nothing in its wake. Because, and here's the catcher, killing and destroying to create a blank slate is itself part of the world against which we must rebel.
Oh, I see! Of course! It’s sort of what I intuited but with all the poetry and nuance I missed. Your final paragraph basically summarizes my life for the past 15 years. It’s exciting and it takes a toll.
It disturbs me profoundly that so many who call themselves Christian fail at the two most important things Jesus said (Matthew, 22:37-40).
“Love God with everything you are.” (Subtext: Know yourself, and love God with all of it.)
“Love others as you love yourself.” (Subtext: Love yourself so that you can love others.)
“Everything depends on these two commandments.” (Subtext: If you’re following a law that does not support love, you’re doing something wrong.)
The lesson here is not that gay people should see their homosexuality as a test of faith. If God is Love, and Jesus is God incarnate, then if there’s a test it’s one of love.
So here’s the test, and it’s for everyone: We are to love others whether or not the way God made them makes us uncomfortable; and as for those others, their test is to love us, even when we fail.
Love this reframe! I've been delighted to see how far affirming churches have gone to liberate the gospel from evangelicalism's stranglehold. Much more is needed, and I'm no longer the person to do that work, but I applaud and appreciate all who do.
While I am neither a believer nor a queer, I think I can understand this double predicament.
Being lost looking for an identity. I am still not sure I found mine, I may have just learned to live with the discomfort. In any case, I appreciate to see this second review on this Substack dealing with the issue of faith. It's fascinating to me.
Thanks for this thought-provoking essay. Your description of a “romantic romp through the world of modernist thought” is alluring. Claiming ownership of paradox - as if because we humans can perceive it, we created it - puts us right at the center of everything. Imagine that. I’m confused by the idea of wrecking “the whole world for the sake of itself” -- could you elaborate? What “world” I’d being wrecked? The human-centric, imposed world of our orthodoxies or this actual, living breathing world of Earth?
Hi Julie, thanks for your thoughtful response! That's a good point, how it's anthropocentric to claim ownership of paradox. I think Chesterton is comparing Christianity to other human worldviews, which he believes fail to account for the theme of paradox already present in the world. Of course, the way Christianity "accounts" for it is by explaining it's an aspect of God's character as well – seemingly in contradiction with itself, but actually just the perfect shape. By contrast what we see as the status quo, our human measures of "normal," are, according to his version of orthodoxy, the odd ones out.
Connecting this to wrecking the world for the sake of itself – there's a passage in chapter 5, "The Flag of the World," that's just incredibly beautiful. I highly recommend reading it for yourself, but here's an excerpt to whet the appetite:
"On this system one could fight all the forces of existence without deserting the flag of existence. One could be at peace with the universe and yet be at war with the world. St. George could still fight the dragon, however big the monster bulked in the cosmos, though he were bigger than the mighty cities or bigger than the everlasting hills. If he were as big as the world he could yet be killed in the name of the world. St. George had not to consider any obvious odds or proportions in the scale of things, but only the original secret of their design. He can shake his sword at the dragon, even if it is everything; even if the empty heavens over his head are only the huge arch of its open jaws."
So yes, I've taken this to mean we can rebel against all imposed orders, even if they turn out to be civilization itself. It's a stretch of the imagination: can we even conceive of a world without money or military, property or politicians, jobs or jails (in other words without capitalism or the state)? If Chesterton is right, then we can. Even if we've never known anything else, we can still insist on a different way of living, knowing that another world is possible. And when we fight to bring that world into being, we will have to fight against every facet of the one that exists – but that doesn't mean kill and destroy and leave nothing in its wake. Because, and here's the catcher, killing and destroying to create a blank slate is itself part of the world against which we must rebel.
Oh, I see! Of course! It’s sort of what I intuited but with all the poetry and nuance I missed. Your final paragraph basically summarizes my life for the past 15 years. It’s exciting and it takes a toll.