About

G.K. Chesterton once said that "there are two ways to get home; and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk round the whole world till we come back to the same place." G.K. Chesterton was a very smart man. In his book, Orthodoxy, Chesterton describes his journey of leaving traditional Christianity in pursuit of discovering truth for himself, only to wind up right where he started. In a similar analogy, he talks about an English yachtsman who sailed off from the shores of England, miscalculated his course, and accidentally "rediscovered" his homeland under the impression that he was a pioneer, the first to plant the British flag on that foreign land. More specific to Chesterton's departure from traditional Christianity, he admits that his own personal "rediscovery" was quite comical and even, perhaps, somewhat embarrassing:

"It might amuse a friend or an enemy to read how I gradually learnt from the truth of some stray legend or from the falsehood of some dominant philosophy, things that I might have learnt from my catechism—if I had ever learnt it. There may or may not be some entertainment in reading how I found at last in an anarchist club or a Babylonian temple what I might have found in the nearest parish church. If any one is entertained by learning how the flowers of the field or the phrases in an omnibus, the accidents of politics or the pains of youth came together in a certain order to produce a certain conviction of Christian orthodoxy, he may possibly read this book."

The reason I include Chesterton's words here is that I, too, have left England. While in college and in the years after, I became frustratingly dissatisfied with the traditional version of faith to which I had long been a devout follower. For whatever reason, there was nothing that could keep me within the borders of my native land, the place I had called home. For I knew that I was not merely a citizen of England, but of the world. If England was truly my home, then it was a land I would desire all the more earnestly as I set out for the high seas and the barbaric lands- and one I would recognize all the more readily as my own. I felt, as I still feel now, that this journey was a necessary one.

Today, as I write this, I remain an explorer in foreign lands and open seas. While Chesterton wrote Orthodoxy at a point where he had reached a specific destination, my journey is not yet complete. So far, the voyage has been a fascinating one. I become increasingly convinced with every passing day that I draw nearer to the land I will one day call home. But as with any genuine endeavor of this nature, I can't yet say with confidence whether my home will be something new or the rediscovery of something old. But I firmly believe, deep inside of me in a place where leaves rustle, that this journey is a good one. I welcome you to share it with me.