The League of Bearded Catholics

Grey-Bearded Catholics At Play

©1999 Top Meadow

The irascible John Kasian (may his beard grow ever longer) sends this link - (through Top Meadow) - to G.K. Chesterton's first published book... and it's got beards!

Greybeards at Play is a book of nonsense verse and sketches, and the entire thing is available for viewing through the above link.

Chesterton said of the book, which was not that enthusiastically received, "To publish a book of my nonsense verse seems to me exactly like summoning the whole of the people of Kensington to see me smoke cigarettes.".

His version of "What was I thinking?", I guess.

Had he published it later, as an established author, the public might have been better able to appreciate it. It's great fun, but wisdom bubbles up everywhere.

Read it here.

Local Library

I haven't taken as full advantage of our local library as I might have, over the years. It has grown a lot, but strangely this growth has been mainly a matter of bricks and glass, industrial strength air conditioning and "community rooms", etc... the actual collection (of, you know... books) has been surprisingly stagnant.

I went a few days ago in high hopes and was a little let down to find only a few titles by the Four Patrons of The League, and those the most obvious. Nothing at all by Hilaire Belloc. However, I'm still happy that I managed to find a few that I had not read before.

Don't entertain the illusion that I'm any kind of expert on the Four Patrons, or even a well qualified amateur. I just love them, that's all.

For instance, I have only read a couple of Chesterton's Father Brown mysteries, and so I'm grateful to have checked out the Father Brown Omnibus.

I also snagged their only copy of C.S. Lewis' Out of the Silent Planet, the first in his well-regarded space trilogy. Okay, it was only available in LARGE PRINT, but we have learned to be content with much or with little.

I have read just about all of Lewis' apologetic works, as well as Surprised by Joy, The Four Loves and Meditations on the Psalms. I have read the Narnia books and Til We Have Faces (which I love) but never the space trilogy, so I'm enjoying filling in that particular gap in my homespun education - which consists mostly of gaps.

Ooh! Also, I was delighted to pick up a few CDs... The Very Best of Stan Freberg, and The Bob Newhart Anthology, as well as some classic jazz and blues.

Happy Anniversary, Gilbert & Frances

Via the American Chesterton Society on Facebook;

TODAY IN HISTORY: Gilbert and Frances were married in 1901. It was Frances's birthday, she turned 32 (Gilbert was five years younger)

Beard-ish Bikers

In a recent un-official TLBC meet-up (four being the minimum for the coveted Official Recognition) Del and his son, Buck, from Wisconsin, were welcomed by the sovereign nation of Squirrelandia (comprised of our house and surrounding grounds in the Ozarks of Northwest Arkansas).

It happened to be the very anniversary of G.K. Chesterton's death, which (should he ever be declared a saint) would be his feast day.

They courageously spent the night on a mattress on our floor, heedless of the roaming beasts, including the furtive but numerous Dust Bunnies (they hide under the furniture) and a Cat of Unusual Size.

Below is photographic evidence of their visit, for the use of future historians.

TLBC founder The Swine, the kilted Del, and Buck (holding the Cat of Unusual Size)

Del and Buck with their mighty iron steeds...

Del tries on the +1 Beard of Wagging, that makes all equal. The Amish look becomes him, I think.

Apologia and Re-Boot

Because even I find these kind of posts tedious almost beyond bearing, I am going to do all in my power to make sure this is the last one in which I explain why The League has been so nearly comatose, of late.

This has been a spring and summer very different from those to which I am accustomed. I have been at a career crossroads which involves juggling at least four different sorts of work and training, all with an eye toward at long last making a decent (and reliable) living for my family and me (what were you thinking, dear, when you married a painter? Never mind. I know, and I will be thankful 'til the day I die).

Juggling, it has become increasingly apparent, is not one of my God-given talents. I have been painting, showing and teaching as one seeking a career in fine art. I have been working toward a teaching certificate, as one who seeks to teach in the public schools. I have been working (and looking for work) as an experienced screen printer, and I have continued to seek out work (freelance, or otherwise) as a graphic artist/illustrator.

This has left me, no matter what I might be doing, with the constant, nagging sensation that I really ought to be attending to something else more urgent. Due to my congenital absent mindedness, I have - several times a week for my entire adult life - felt a sudden rush of mental terror that there was something extremely important I was forgetting, and it was mostly a pretty safe bet that this was true.

This has meant that The League has very often received short shrift in the last few months. It has meant, in fact, that for weeks I did not even check the League e-mail.

But, thanks to the initiative of some other local Beardies, I see an opportunity to remedy this situation, and inject new life into the League of Bearded Catholics.

We now have scheduled (see our Facebook page);

An ad-hoc Fact Finding Mission of the Special Task Force of the Exploratory Arm of the unofficial Membership Service Committee of the Northwest Arkansas Chapter of The League of Bearded Catholics.

Tuesday, June 29th, 6:45-ish, at Club Frisco in Downtown Rogers, Arkansas. We'll post a sign.

Those who miss shall think themselves accursed they were not there, and hold their manhoods cheap, etc, etc...

I've got to make some quick contacts and send out some backlogged membership certificates, etc... (flushes with shame), but things should be rolling along again soon, and I will endeavour to post here daily. Still, I can't help but think I'm forgetting something...

Why Pray? Why Put On Your Boots?

I've been thinking more about work and prayer, lately... about doing both at the same time, and offering work as a form of prayer. Most Christians will probably agree that prayer is a great privilege, but might miss the fact that work is equally a privilege.

C.S. Lewis, with characteristic lucidity, considers both and in the process debunks an old objection to the idea of prayer. From Lewis' God in the Dock;

Even if I grant your point and admit that answers to prayer are theoretically possible, I shall still think they are infinitely improbable. I don't think it at all likely that God requires the ill-informed (and contradictory) advice of us humans as to how to run the world. If He is all-wise, as you say He is, doesn't He know already what is best? And if He is all-good won't He do it whether we pray or not?'

This is the case against prayer which has, in the last hundred years, intimidated thousands of people. The usual answer is that it applies only to the lowest sort of prayer, the sort that consists in asking for things to happen. The higher sort, we are told, offers no advice to God; it consists only of 'communion' or intercourse with Him; and those who take this line seem to suggest that the lower kind of prayer really is an absurdity and that only children or savages would use it.

...

The case against prayer (I mean the 'low' or old-fashioned kind) is this. The thing you ask for is either good - for you and for the world in general- or else it is not. If it is, then a good and wise God will do it anyway. If it is not, then He won't. In neither case can your prayer make any difference. But if this argument is sound, surely it is an argument not only against praying, but against doing anything whatever?

In every action, just as in every prayer, you are trying to bring about a certain result; and this result must be good or bad. Why, then, do we not argue as the opponents of prayer argue, and say that if the intended result is good God will bring it to pass without your interference, and that if it is bad He will prevent it happening whatever you do? Why wash your hands? If God intends them to be clean, they'll come clean without your washing them. If He doesn't, they'll remain dirty (as Lady Macbeth found) however much soap you use. Why ask for the salt? Why put on your boots? Why do anything?

We know that we can act and that our actions produce results. Everyone who believes in God must therefore admit (quite apart from the question of prayer) that God has not chosen to write the whole of history with His own hand. Most of the events that go on in the universe are indeed out of our control, but not all. It is like a play in which the scene and the general outline of the story is fixed by the author, but certain minor details are left for the actors to improvise.

It may be a mystery why He should have allowed us to cause real events at all; but it is no odder that He should allow us to cause them by praying than by any other method.

I've been doing a great deal more strenuous and physical work, of late, and though I enjoy it, it can sometimes be a struggle to get through the day. So, I pray for physical strength, like Samson did, and then I offer my work as another kind of prayer, asking that I will be able to do it well and to the glory of God.

Bacon and Eggs

Myself. "Well, anyhow, it is determined that we make a feast, and I say for my part that there must be in this feast bacon and eggs fried together in one pan, and making a great commonalty in one dish."

The Sailor. "Excellent ; and the drink shall be beer."

The Poet. "Besides this, what we need is two large cottage loaves of new bread, and butter, and some kind of cheese."

Hilaire Belloc - The Four Men

 

Amid a small cyclone of activity, lately, I had the unique pleasure of welcoming my Chestertonian friend and fellow Leaguer, Del, and his son, who were foolish enough to agree to spend the night in our living room as they rested from their summer motorcycle meandering.

We spent most of our time together on our porch, where we smoked pipes, drank beer and grazed on the kind of rich tidbits that go best with that sort of evening. I embroidered our feast here and there with a little fruit to give the whole thing a thin gloss of healthful balance. Was there cheese? Is the Pope Catholic? The infamous Huntsman Cheese, and Cahill's Irish Porter Cheese (it's cheese and beer in one!).

The weather, I have to say, was perfect for porch sitting, and a porch in fine weather is a great place for praying the Rosary, too.

Del sported a kilt, though I was a little disappointed that he did not wear it while riding his motorcycle. That would have made the entire trip more interesting, for him and for a number of his fellow highway travelers. Impractical, I suppose.

Del's son, Buck - who, Del likes to remind everyone, is a trained killer - is the sort of young man that gives one a real sense of hope that our generation (boomers) may not succeed in ruining everything, though we try. One son in the military, and one in the seminary... a remarkable family all around.

We sent them off next morning with a feast out of Hilaire Belloc's The Four Men; bacon and eggs cooked together in the same pan, toast with real butter and coffee (I doubt Americans will ever very much embrace beer for breakfast, but I'm willing to do my bit to get such a custom started).

A gathering that will live in legend, especially as I find more time to embellish it.

Happy Feast of G.K. Chesterton

From the illustrious Kevin O'Brien, via Facebook;

 

Today is the day Gilbert died in 1936. It will be officially recognized as a feast day when he becomes a saint, probably in the 25th Century.

 

I admire not only Mr. O'brien's confidence (which I share), but also his prescient ability to tell us when this will come about. Personally, I think it may be some time before that date.

 

We've discussed GKC's possible beatification before here at TLBC, in a post called Chesterton - the Saint of Beaconsfield

Painting Myself Out of a Corner

You say grace before meals.  All right.  But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink. - G.K. Chesterton, from Maisie Ward's Gilbert Keith Chesterton

I'm beginning to discover more deeply the truth, not so much that one can pray while painting (or driving, or cooking, etc...), but that one can paint while praying.

I'm painting a lot, right now. This is something like Finals Week for me, so thanks for your patience. Or, alternately, thanks for your kind impatience.

Mug Shot

 
Mug of Beer - Oil on panel -24" x 24" - ©copyright 2010, Timothy Jones

I don't talk a whole lot about my art here at TLBC, but I thought this latest piece warranted sharing in a post.

I am working like crazy on an art show opening later this week, and this is one of the paintings that will be in the exhibit.