Showing posts with label G.K. Chesterton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label G.K. Chesterton. Show all posts

Sunday, March 16, 2014

The Mind is Like an Umbrella ...




Dear Theophilus,

When I was in university I had a typical student car. It was a 10 year-old Volkswagen Rabbit diesel, a certain shade of mottled brown with a mustard interior. Unlike my present VW diesel, there was nothing turbocharged about the 4-speed manual transmission; indicated by the 1-2-3-E stamped on the gearshift – and according to my sister, the E didn’t stand for excellerate (sic).

What made this particular VW distinctly mine was the way I decorated the interior. I had the requisite national flag hanging from the rear-view mirror (I had just spent a year studying in Belgium); where the ceiling upholstery had fallen, I had stapled it back up in concentric circles; I also had a variety of toys and postcards glued to the dashboard.

Written on one of the postcards was the saying: The mind is like an umbrella, it works better when it is open.

I thought this was particularly clever, as did most of the people who sat in the passenger seat. The obvious purpose of an umbrella is to keep rain off of one’s head (something that had become quite evident during my time in Belgium), and the obvious way to do this efficiently is to open up the umbrella. The mind is the same: the purpose of the mind is to think, and the most efficient way to do this is to open one’s mind to new ideas, and then to think on them.

What was missing from the postcard cleverly glued to my dashboard was the notion that there are times when it’s better to have your umbrella closed. This is self-evident to anyone who has tried to walk their dog on a blustery day. Trying to balance the leash, a poop-bag and an umbrella torn by the unruly wind; something has got to give – and personally, I know it is better for me to come home a little damp and with the dog, than dry and without. 

There are other times, too, when the purpose of an open umbrella is quite counter-productive. Nothing lifts the spirits better on a cold drizzly day than to see the clouds part and the sun’s rays peek through. The immediate reaction when this happens is to close your umbrella and turn your face towards the sun, closing your eyes and basking in its glowing warmth. I don’t think it would take too much to convince you that in this particular instance, the umbrella works better when it’s closed.

While reading G.K. Chesterton’s Heretics, I was reminded recently that the mind, like an umbrella, can also work perfectly well when it’s closed; that it shouldn’t be left perpetually open. Although he doesn’t make the umbrella analogy, Chesterton wrote on the real purpose of having an open mind:

Merely having an open mind is nothing. The object of opening the mind, as of opening the mouth, is to shut it again on something solid.

I think Chesterton’s analogy is much more beautiful, and much more truthful, than that of the umbrella.

As a bit of a gourmand, I like to eat. Even more so when a meal is especially savoury. I try to use all of my senses in eating: allowing the scent to awaken my taste buds; devouring the plate set before me with my eyes; finally holding a morsel in my mouth, rolling it over with my tongue, not only tasting it, but savouring the texture as well. And like my mother always told me, I eat with my mouth closed.

So it should be when we open our mind to a new idea. We need to take it in, close our mind around it, and mull that new thought over. Like new foods, new thoughts can be delicious to our intellect. When that is the case, we want more and more of the same, closing our mind around something that is solid, something that is beautiful; the same way we would close our mouths around a dish we find pleasing to our palate.

Unfortunately, this closing of the mind on something solid, the savouring of an idea that is particularly pleasing to the spirit, is frowned upon in our modern western world. Whenever we try to stand for our principles, to express the beauty that is the Truth, we are told not to be close-minded, to open up to new ideas.

The problem is that it’s quite difficult to open the umbrella of the mind in today’s society. With the advent of the internet and the proliferation of self-expression in social media, the flow of ideas is much like that blustery day when I try to walk the dog with my umbrella. In fact, most days the torrent of ideas flashing around Twitter, Facebook and the blogosphere is more like a hurricane than a blustery spring shower. Ever tried opening an umbrella in a hurricane?

Then there are times when we find that ray of sunshine and the warmth that it brings. This is when the winds die down and the clouds part and God’s light illumines our world. When we find God’s Truth in Creation, we need to close our umbrella and bask in the warmth He brings to our souls.

Like Chesterton, who opens his mouth to close it on something solid and savoury, we need to open our minds to the Word of God, closing it on something that is more solid and delicious than any food found on earth.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Catholicism and my e-Reader



Dear Theophilus,

I received a Kobo e-Reader for Christmas 2011. As a traditionalist, I was a bit dismayed at the idea of giving up the comfortable weight, feel and smell of real books for the light, sleek lines of technology. I also mourned the loss of giddy anticipation while waiting for a package of ordered books to arrive in the mail or a tranquil afternoon spent leafing pages and reading back covers in a traditional bookstore.

Seven months later, I’m a convert. Although I still enjoy picking up the odd book now and again (there’s still a stack of novels under my bed), I thoroughly enjoy the ease my Kobo gives me in finding the titles I want to read at a much cheaper price. I also have to admit that I like it that they’re in my hand immediately, giving instant gratification to my bookish addiction. I’m also reluctantly enamoured with the text-size function now that bifocals seem to have become a necessity.

The vast library of Catholic classics (and contemporaries) available at my fingertips also excites me. Titles that are long out of print or simply not carried by my local bookstore are readily available. In the case of the classics, they are often offered at the best discount going – free (or at least under $1).

Since Christmas, my library has grown with the following titles:

  • Explanation of Catholic Morals (John H. Stapleton)
  • Heresy: Ten Lies They Spread about Christianity (Michael Coren)
  • Orthodoxy (G.K. Chesterton)
  • How to Listen when God is Speaking (Mitch Pacwa S.J.)
  • The Path to Rome (Hilaire Belloc)

and my virtual bedside table is covered with similar titles:

  • Didache (the 12 Apostles)
  • Summa Theologica (St. Thomas Aquinas)
  • Europe and the Faith (Hilaire Belloc)

plus whatever Catholic title or author I find as I troll Catholic blogs, e-Book stores or that are suggested by friends. Titles I hope to share with you as I discover the wonderful world of Catholic e-Books.

Friday, July 13, 2012

The Orthodox Revolution

First edition cover

Dear Theophilus,

During class discussions in the religious education course I just completed, it became increasingly apparent to myself and my classmates that I am on the more conservative side of Catholicism. In other words – I am an Orthodox Catholic.

The Free Dictionary defines orthodox as: “adhering to the accepted or traditional and established faith, especially in religion.” So I have to admit that, yes, I am an Orthodox Catholic. This was made blatantly obvious during one activity, where a line was drawn down the middle of the room and those who were pro-contraception were to stand on one side and those against contraception on the other. My lone friend and I were somewhat intimidated as we looked over the line to the standing-room-only pro-contraception side of the classroom. This then led me to consider a struggle in living out my orthodoxy: firstly, understanding how my orthodoxy affects my spiritual development; and, secondly, how my orthodoxy makes me un-orthodox in my interactions with the rest of society.

In his 1908 book aptly entitled Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton stated that being orthodox is the greatest form of rebellion in contemporary society. Throughout the book, Chesterton lists the ills of early 20th Century society and how they had come about because of society’s deviation from Christ’s teachings. I find it amusing that a statement made on observations from 104 years ago is still very appropriate today. In our western society that promotes the rights of the individual over those of the community; putting materialistic and physical pleasure before spiritual fulfillment; a society that tells us that we are entitled to every whim – including our relationship with God – the Orthodox Christian that seeks the good of the community and spiritual pursuits before these material gods is seen as an anomaly that should be shunned and combated as an outcast.

So I ask myself: What is God’s will for me in this world? How should I present myself as a Catholic in society? Time and again I come to the answer that I need to be a gentle witness. It will do no good for me to preach fire and brimstone, telling the world that it is on the path to perdition. This is a message that the world either doesn’t want to hear or is not ready to listen to. Pushing the orthodox path to Christ will only lead to sealing their ears to His word.

After a recent heated discussion on the Church teaching on homosexuality (where I was shouted down to cries of who should cast the first stone before I could speak of the Church’s inclusive nature), I received some reassuring direction from someone who’s knowledge and faithfulness far outstrips my own. His message was this: “You will never go wrong if you teach from the Catechism and scripture, using them not as a weapon, but as a tool. Be ready, however, that many will attack you and will try to crucify you for professing the Truth.” His words reminded me once again of the revolutionary nature of my orthodoxy.

As an Orthodox Catholic and Christian, I realize that how I live my life and what I profess is revolutionary in today’s world. Instead of manning the barricades and starting a Holy War, I feel a call to be even more subversive. To be a gentle witness.