Chesterton's genius
What amazes me so much about G.K. Chesterton is his ability to write on almost any topic, both authoritatively and at the drop of a hat. He has long been one of my favorite authors of fiction, philosophy, theology, and essays. Today, for the first time I began to read one of his biographies. Suzy and I were at the bookstore (cheap date) and I came across a book of his by Ignatius Press that has his short bios of St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Francis of Assisi.
As soon as he converted to Catholicism in 1922, he was asked to write succinct portrait of St. Francis. Within a few short months he produced one of the most authoritative sketches of the saint's life. At that time he mentioned he would like to do the same with St. Thomas. The problem is that Aquinas was much more prolific and much harder to grasp. Being the genius he was, the task was apparently not too difficult - he wrote it in a couple of months, dictating the whole thing to his secretary.
The fact that he could do this so quickly amazes me, but what is of greater interest is the character of the two saints. They couldn't be more opposite in their way of approaching theology and the spiritual life, though they have the same goal - to transform the world for Christ. Chesterton writes that the nineteenth century clinged to Francis precisely because it had neglected romance and that the twentieth century was looking to Aquinas because it had neglected reason. Then he states one of the most profound things I've read in a while:
The saint is a medicine because he(she) is an antidote. Indeed that is why the saint is often the martyr...he(she) will generally be found restoring the world to sanity by exaggerating whatever the world neglects, which is by no means the same in every age. Yet each generation seeks its saint by instinct; and he(she) is not what the people want, but rather what the people need.
This really hit me for some reason. Partly because the church I was brought up in didn't really teach much about saints, so I just don't think that way - it is something that I have had to learn. Needless to say, I'll have to give it some thought before I can submit who I think the saint should be for this century.
As soon as he converted to Catholicism in 1922, he was asked to write succinct portrait of St. Francis. Within a few short months he produced one of the most authoritative sketches of the saint's life. At that time he mentioned he would like to do the same with St. Thomas. The problem is that Aquinas was much more prolific and much harder to grasp. Being the genius he was, the task was apparently not too difficult - he wrote it in a couple of months, dictating the whole thing to his secretary.
The fact that he could do this so quickly amazes me, but what is of greater interest is the character of the two saints. They couldn't be more opposite in their way of approaching theology and the spiritual life, though they have the same goal - to transform the world for Christ. Chesterton writes that the nineteenth century clinged to Francis precisely because it had neglected romance and that the twentieth century was looking to Aquinas because it had neglected reason. Then he states one of the most profound things I've read in a while:
The saint is a medicine because he(she) is an antidote. Indeed that is why the saint is often the martyr...he(she) will generally be found restoring the world to sanity by exaggerating whatever the world neglects, which is by no means the same in every age. Yet each generation seeks its saint by instinct; and he(she) is not what the people want, but rather what the people need.
This really hit me for some reason. Partly because the church I was brought up in didn't really teach much about saints, so I just don't think that way - it is something that I have had to learn. Needless to say, I'll have to give it some thought before I can submit who I think the saint should be for this century.
posted by Tim at
1:59 AM
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