This is an incredible read, and it will take some work to grasp it all. But it’s worth it, especially for Christians who are questioning their faith, or skeptics who want to throw Christianity out with the bathwater of religious bad behavior.

Chesterton is not like anyone else

Chesterton has a good reputation for being the master of the turn-of-phrase. He does this well in small essays (I read “All Things Considered” earlier this year, and it’s full of great quotables and short nuggets), going from small topic to broader topic to universal wisdom in the span of about 5 pages. But as easy as his short essays were to digest, a book of this magnitude (not necessarily in length, but scope) took much more work on my part.

First, he uses his turn-of-phrase not as a newspaper-column highlight line, but as bricks. Little by little, word by word, phrase by phrase, symbol by symbol, paragraph by paragraph, and chapter by chapter, he works up to his points with the slow-cooked frog method. And suddenly, after it is too late, he hits the payoffs. You’ll probably slog through some parts of each chapter, or wonder where he’s going with something, when suddenly your jaw will drop and you’ll say “now THAT’S a way to say it I’ve never seen before!” The payoffs are worth all the build-ups.

Not every point lands with expert precision or perfect persuasion. But they do come fully loaded. As his own Appendix says: “On rereading these pages I feel I have tried in many places and with many words, to say something that might be said in one word.” I firmly agree with this assessment, but once you get used to his style, it’s not so burdensome. Instead, I was thankful to have covered all the bases he covers, and to see it in such a universal light, since indeed he is trying to make universal points. I have pages of quotes, from both the big points and the little build-ups.

The Content and Scope

I read a lot of books categorized as “theology,” “philosophy,” or “Christian nonfiction.” I’ve seen many apologists blast the nonbeliever, or clarify and defend the gospel. But then I see quotes like these:

“It is the temptation of the professors to treat mythologies too much as theologies; as things thoroughly thought out and seriously held.”

Being an academic myself, and an armchair student of theology, I can see that many inside and outside the church have conflated the two. Fundamentalist Christians may be wary of the word “mythology” because to them it implies that their sincerely held beliefs about their Biblicism are no more worthwhile than stories of Zeus. And Modernists (Chesterton’s main addressed opponents), who try to trace a social-Darwinist arc of human history where polytheism and barbarism are early, and skepticism and atheism the natural result of peaceful civilization, seem to accuse theologians (and those who follow Christian theologies) as little more than superstitious cavemen. Quotes like the one above remind me that (a) mythology is a vital part of our humanity, and there is truth in it – both in the Judeo-Christian mythology, and the many ways we use mythology (read: “stories”) today; additionally, it reminds me that the church has long engaged in theology IN ORDER to thoroughly think out and seriously hold beliefs. That is, Christianity HAS mythology in it, but it is MORE than mythology. Chesterton uses this point to show that the rational field of philosophy (including theology) and the irrational culture of mythology have come together into a sort of “unified theory” of man: Not gods and man, not man as gods, but God as a Man, and man as God’s. As he puts it:

“The Catholic faith is the reconciliation because it is the realisation both of mythology and philosophy. It is a story and in that sense one of a hundred stories; only it is a true story. It is a philosophy and in that sense one of a hundred philosophies; only it is a philosophy that is like life. But above all, it is a reconciliation because it is something that can only be called the philosophy of stories.”

The first part of the book (“On the Creature Called Man”) traces a history of human mythology, science (our evolution from animal to man), and religion all included. His early critiques of Darwinism are not the “young-earth creationist” objections we see today (those didn’t have much clout yet except in a few circles – certainly not to a Catholic like Chesterton), but rather a critique of assuming that Modern Man is the crowning achievement of the evolutionary cycle, or even that Modern Man is greater in any way than ancient or prehistoric man. These may be some of the same philosophical motivations that YECs have, but other areas, including the appendix, show that he’s not denying the science of evolution, just objecting to the social attitude that, conveniently, we are the paragon by which we judge all that have gone before us.
He leads us through the many things we do and don’t know about ancient man, as well as a great analysis of the differences between man and beast. Certainly we all have to reckon with what we don’t know about our origins, both human and pre-human, so this is a valuable chapter for anyone even apart from this book. He takes us through civilizations, from cavemen to Carthage and Rome. Here, the rivalry between Carthage and Rome becomes the payoff for the first half of the book: the polytheistic democratic republic of Rome vs. the orc-like industrial paganism of Carthage. Rome wins, but he shows we can come no further on our own.

At first, I was a little surprised that he chose Rome as the highest pinnacle of human civilization; I thought he would temporarily concede a little to the Modernists and take us the rest of the way, and then show why we’re not any better. However, in hindsight, this was a perfect setup (of course). Into Rome comes the most important part of the story of Man – the God who became a man.

The second half then focuses “On the Man Called Christ,” and the first chapter (“The God in the Cave”) is one of the most beautiful and amazing essays on the gospel that I’ve read. I’ve heard that it’s available on its own to read, and I recommend it. In parallel with his first chapter of the book “The Man in the Cave,” a reference to both literal cave men and the classic philosophical cave of Plato, this chapter pays off that earlier work by placing the very fertile seed of God himself “even lower than the world” as a “touch of revolution, as of the world turned upside down.”
Indeed, most of what he focuses on when it comes to Christ is showing just how unique and revolutionary this idea of “God-with-us, in-the-flesh” really is. And based on his broad scope of history, showing that we’ve mostly just repeated ourselves again and again to no great avail, he uses this uniqueness to argue that the Gospel is both universal and otherworldly.

The Rhetoric and References

This book is a challenge to read, not because another author couldn’t make the same arguments (I see precursors to Lewis’s “Trilemma,” along with numerous other things later apologists have argued; it was apparently the book that converted Lewis from agnostic to Christian), but because of (1) the vast academic knowledge the reader needs to understand the references and analyses he’s making, and (2) the masterful rhetorical craft with which he puts them all together. He uses esoteric references as personified metaphors; he generalizes whole eras of history and entire groups of cultures (some 21st-century readers may be surprised by his discussion of cultures, but it is not a race-related argument), but also breaks down conglomerations built by Modernists. I have a somewhat-competent amount of background knowledge on Comparative Religion, Classics, Philosophy, Ethics, World History, Anthropology, Theology, Church History, and even Late-19th-century Modernist writings. It’s where I live, in my head, all the time--and yet I say “somewhat competent” because he tested every single one of these; if you’re not well-versed in some of these things, you’ll miss a lot of what he’s saying. He’s using a lexicon not easily understood by many readers today, so just be aware. See if there are versions with footnotes, or maybe a Cliffs Notes. Don’t stop to look up every single one. Consider one example:

“There is a sort of notion in the air everywhere that all the religions are equal because all the religious founders were rivals; that they are all fighting for the same starry crown. It is quite false. The claim to that crown, or anything like that crown, is really so rare as to be unique. Mahomet [Mohammed] did not make it any more than Micah or Malachi. Confucius did not make it any more than Plato or Marcus Aurelius. Buddha never said he was Brahma. Zoroaster no more claimed to be Ormuz than to be Ahriman.”

And this is an easy example. Here he says the same thing many ways, and picks the names he does because of alliteration as much as academic context. Many other places his name-dropping and eponyms can be overwhelming.

My Personal Reflections

This is a book I needed to read. While I’m not super drawn to the Postmodernist movement of today, there are still a lot of Modernist philosophies from his time, from comparative religion to technology and futurism to facets of Darwinism, that I must still consider wisely. He takes “comparative religion” to the next level, and upholds Christianity as the incomparable religion. It’s no small task.

I appreciated his deference to the magnificent histories of man, mythology, classics, philosophy, etc. – all while still asserting the superiority of the Christian faith. Rather, he puts mankind in its proper place:

“Perhaps it is in any case too much of a temptation to pride or hypocrisy to call it heathenry. Perhaps it would be better simply to call it humanity.”

This puts a new face on the common apologetic of “Christianity vs. All The Heathens” by not really dismissing “heathenry” at all, but just calling it what it is: humanity (or if you will, Humanism). So while it’s good for me to watch for elements of this heathen humanism in my own faith and philosophy, it’s even more important to revel in the unique and loving story that is the one and only gospel:

“Nobody else except those messengers [Christians] has any Gospel; nobody else has any good news; for the simple reason that nobody else has any news.”

It reminds me of the writer of Ecclesiastes, who clearly was a philosopher and had considered all things thoroughly, who sees human knowledge, wisdom, and advancement ultimately as vanity. To Chesterton, Christianity is not a triumph of one human philosophy over the many others. It is a surrender of all human philosophies to the Divinely True Good News.

Should you read this book?

If you’re wondering whether to read this book, I would consider a few things. Consider your academic level, so you can appreciate the thoroughness of his analyses and references, and the quality of his rhetoric. Don’t read it while tired; it takes a lot of concentration to follow his long setups all the way to the payoffs. But if you’re a fan of human history, mythology, anthropology, evolution, comparative religion, theology, philosophy, or apologetics, it’s a must-read. If you’re enthralled by the H.G. Wells of his time, or the Steven Pinkers, Stephen Hawkings, and Richard Dawkinses of our time, consider it a must-read. Once you enter Chesterton’s domain, it will take a lot to get out unscathed. And yet you’ll be glad you ventured in.

Read it, and read it again (a long time later).


[FINAL NOTE: Do NOT read the Wilder Publications version (ISBN 1-60459-246-X). I didn't know about this (now-defunct?) publishing house, but their version is full of typos and mistakes and clearly has never been in front of an editor. It's an affront to good books to be essential computer-read and sold without a single professional eye preserving the quality. I hope lawsuits continue to shut down these kinds of profiteers.]