Christianity Calls the Adventurous
Much of GK Chesterton’s work is brilliant, but his image of the yachtsman from Orthodoxy has always resonated with me. Allow me to quote the passage in full.
I have often had a fancy for writing a romance about an English yachtsman who slightly miscalculated his course and discovered England under the impression that it was a new island in the South Seas. I always find, however, that I am either too busy or too lazy to write this fine work, so I may as well give it away for the purposes of philosophical illustration. There will probably be a general impression that the man who landed (armed to the teeth and talking by signs) to plant the British flag on that barbaric temple which turned out to be the Pavilion at Brighton, felt rather a fool. I am not here concerned to deny that he looked a fool. But if you imagine that he felt a fool, or at any rate that the sense of folly was his sole or his dominant emotion, then you have not studied with sufficient delicacy the rich romantic nature of the hero of this tale. His mistake was really a most enviable mistake; and he knew it, if he was the man I take him for. What could be more delightful than to have in the same few minutes all the fascinating terrors of going abroad combined with all the humane security of coming home again? What could be better than to have all the fun of discovering South Africa without the disgusting necessity of landing there? What could be more glorious than to brace one’s self up to discover New South Wales and then realize, with a gush of happy tears, that it was really old South Wales. This at least seems to me the main problem for philosophers, and is in a manner the main problem of this book. How can we contrive to be at once astonished at the world and yet at home in it? How can this queer cosmic town, with its many-legged citizens, with its monstrous and ancient lamps, how can this world give us at once the fascination of a strange town and the comfort and honour of being our own town?
I was discussing this passage with a friend, and as I was talking about it and processing it with him, I began to think about the imaginary yachtsman as he was on that journey. As Chesterton writes near the middle of the passage, this adventurer actually got to have an adventure. He experienced the terrors of going abroad. We don’t know how long he sailed around in circles until he found himself right back home, but his adventure was real. Whatever experiences he had were not diminished by the fact that he did not reach his intended destination. His entire voyage was full of mystery.
It struck me that mystery is part of the joy of the Christian life. Don’t get me wrong. We know a great deal about God, but we certainly don’t know everything. We don’t know everything about His ways. We don’t know how He is going to work everything out. We don’t know everything about the nature of God, as He is so massive and powerful that we cannot wrap our minds around Him. We know more than enough to become followers of His, but there is more to learn and more to know. In short, there is some mystery.
If you think about a good mystery book, however, part of the fun is the unknown. However, we want the unknown to become known. We want to progress, learn more, and ultimately reach a satisfactory ending. As Christians, we go through a similar process with God. We mature and follow Him more closely. Through this process, we learn more. What was confusing becomes clearer. We get the thrill of the journey, the joy of the voyage, and the satisfaction of resolving more and more of the mysteries as we continue on our Christian journey.
That is part of what gets me excited about being a Christian. There is always more to learn. Yes, the fundamentals are simple and accessible to small children, as Jesus invited the little ones to approach Him directly. However, Christianity also has the intellectual depth that has caused many of the most brilliant people ever to walk the earth to commit their lives to its study. If you are someone who needs the thrill of the journey and the mystery of sailing on the open sea, Christianity is there for you and will be there for you for all eternity.
Sometimes, Christianity gets a reputation of being boring and rigid. We can get the reputation of being a copout from the hard work of learning about the world. I can’t express how wrong that view is. God has given us an amazing world and universe that we don’t even fully understand yet. Beyond that, God is infinitely bigger than all that He has created. We have the opportunity to dive into the greatest mysteries, but we have the unique capacity of having a worldview that is big enough to truly follow the answers wherever they lead. We are not stuck in philosophical naturalism. We are not stuck with the pantheon of Greek gods who have severe limitations and moral failings. Follow what you were designed to be, be the yachtsman. Go on your adventure. Chase the truth. You will find yourself returning right back home, not to England necessarily, but acknowledging the truth that we sometimes try so hard to suppress in our unrighteousness. You will be excited to get home.