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A Long Quote From Chesterton

I spent some time recently writing about silliness. Since then, I've remembered one of my favorite quotes. It's from a book called Orthodoxy, by G.K. Chesterton. A book with that title doesn't immediately inspire silliness, I know, but -- as I've written elsewhere -- I imagine he wrote it with a smile on his face, maybe even while laughing aloud.

The passage I have in mind is the final paragraph of the book. It is about Jesus, and joy, and sadness, and anger. I quote it in full because I wanted to type it and share it:

"Joy, which was the small publicity of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian. And as I close this chaotic volume I open again the strange small book from which all Christianity came; and I am again haunted by a kind of confirmation. The tremendous figure which fills the Gospels towers in this respect, as in every other, above all the thinkers who ever thought themselves tall. His pathos was natural, almost casual. The Stoics, ancient and modern, were proud of concealing their tears. He never concealed His tears; He showed them plainly on His open face at any daily sight, such as the far sight of His native city. Yet He concealed something. Solemn supermen and imperial diplomatists are proud of restraining their anger. He never restrained His anger. He flung furniture down the front steps of the Temple, and asked men how they expected to escape the damnation of Hell. Yet He restrained something. I say it with reverence; there was in that shattering personality a thread that must be called shyness. There was something that He hid from all men when He went up a mountain to pray. There was something that He covered constantly by abrupt silence or impetuous isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when He walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth."
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