"The Ethics of Elfland"

It is a great joy to read G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy with our seniors.

Today we discussed Chapter IV: "The Ethics of Elfland" which is quite possibly one of the richest 20 pages of non-fiction text one may ever encounter. One will find himself pleasantly surprised, laughing, agreeing, imagining, remembering, nodding and feeling an overwhelming gratitude toward God and His goodness.

I found myself on the verge of tears: tears of sadness for those who have lost - or are in danger of completely losing - the wonder of childhood (people like me!), that wonder which allows us to see the world as it is: a fairytale (e.g. "God chose to paint the grass green and the sky... well, He's changing it all the time!" vs. "Photosynthesis, a very predictable and knowable scientific process, has caused the grass to be green through..."); and tears of joy at Chesterton's golden line: "...perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony" (pg. 65 of the Ignatius Press edition).

The chapter reminds me of the wonderment of my own little ones and how I'm often "so busy" and serious about the work of the house or my school work... I have no time to stare at the moon with two-year-old Jude! No, Jude's right: work can wait; gazing at the moon for this fleeting moment cannot.

It is fun to see you, dear seniors, mull Chesterton's words of wisdom. Only he can say such things as:

"Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors."

"Fairyland is nothing but the sunny country of common sense."

"The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore."

GKC, Aquinas, Children, Grass: The Primacy of Existence

As we read McInerny's distinction between the Modernist View vs. the Classical View, I thought this quote by the great G.K. Chesterton to be well worth our consideration:

Without pretending to span within such limits the essential Thomist idea, I may be allowed to throw out a sort of rough version of the fundamental question, which I think I have known myself, consciously or unconsciously since my childhood. When a child looks out a nursery window and sees anything, say the green lawn of the garden, what does he actually know; or does he know anything? There are all sorts of nursery games of negative philosophy played round this question. A brilliant Victorian scientist delighted in declaring that the child does not see any grass at all; but only a sort of green mist reflected in a tiny mirror of the human eye. This piece of rationalism has always struck me as almost insanely irrational. If he is not sure of the existence of the grass, which he sees through the glass of a window, how on earth can he be sure of the existence of the retina, which he sees through the glass of a microscope? If sight deceives, why can it not go on deceiving? Men of another school answer that grass is a mere green impression on the mind; and that he can be sure of nothing except the mind. They declare that he can only be conscious of his own consciousness; which happens to be the one thing that we know that the child is not conscious of at all. In that sense, it would be far truer to say that there is grass and no child, than to say that there is a conscious child but no grass. St. Thomas Aquinas, suddenly intervening in this nursery quarrel, says emphatically that the child is aware of Ens. Long before he knows that grass is grass, or self is self, he knows that something is something. Perhaps it would be best to say very emphatically (with a blow on the table), "There is an Is". This is as much monkish credulity as St. Thomas asks of us at the start. Very few unbelievers start by asking us to believe so little. And yet, upon this sharp pin-point of reality, he rears by long logical processes that have never really been successfullly overthrown, the whole cosmic system of Christendom.

Ens is the present participle of the Latin verb esse. It means "being" or "existing." Existence is glorious! It is the hallmark and the sublime mystery of God Himself, Who named Himself "I Am Who Am." It is upon this foundation of ultimate reality, Existence Himself, that every thing else hangs.