Chesterton's Fence

There’s always this confrontation with the eternal question, "Why should it be this way?" or, "Why is something (whatever it is) the way it is?" We ask these questions for two reasons: one, out of curiosity, because we want to understand why. And two, it is because we are convinced there could be another way of looking at the same problem. Variations of the eternal question could sound like this: "Who put the fence here?" and "Why did they put it here?"

Chesterton’s Fence depicts walking in a field and coming by a fence that sort of blocks your path. You assume that based on the terrain, there’s no need for a fence, and so your first instinct is to knock the face out of your way and continue your walk. But no. You can’t do that. Chesterton Fence invites you to go a little deeper, to think about why the fence was erected in the first place. Whoever first erected the fence believed that it would serve a purpose, for that’s why they put it up and so knocking it out of the way because you find no need for it isn’t going to cut it. The bottom line is that Chesterton’s Fence invites you to probe, to think, to evaluate, and to look beyond what you see for answers that may not be immediately discernible.

As we can all attest to, we live lives where we are confronted with situations and incidences that we didn’t create and where those who created them are not available to help with the answers. These situations or incidences may confound us. Those are the times when our instant gratification jumps in and invites us to take the easy way out because we don’t want to think any further, we don’t want to probe any further, all we want to do is to kick the fence out of the way and continue our walk.

But life doesn’t work like that, nor is it that simple. There are times when the answers we need are easily discernible, but there are also times when we need to ask, probe, and think a little more deeply in order to arrive at some answers. And especially in situations where we do not know why the fence was put up in the first place or why something is the way it is, our approach should be marked by modesty, humility, and grace.

I am reminded of a story of a little girl whose mother was cutting both ends of a carrot stick before putting them in a pot. The curious girl asked the mom, "Mom, why do you cut both ends of the carrot stick before you put it in a pot?" The surprised mother said, "You know, I haven’t really thought about it. It hasn’t occurred to me why I do that. I saw grandma doing the exact same thing when I was growing up, and so I simply thought that was the way we cook carrot sticks."

Fortunately, Grandma was close by so they invited grandma to come over. When she came over, the granddaughter asked her, "Grandma, I saw mom cutting both ends of the carrot stick before she put them in a pot. I asked her and she said she saw you doing the same thing when she was growing up. Well, why did you cut both ends of the carrot stick before you put them in a pot?”

The grandmother’s response was a surprise to both mother and daughter. Grandma said that she didn’t have a big pot, so to fit the carrot stick in the pot, she had to cut both ends of the carrot stick.

If, at some point in her life, the mother of the little girl had been curious enough, she would’ve asked her mother and not continued the practice of cutting both ends of the carrot still when she didn’t have to.

Questioning, especially questioning ourselves, happens to be the most introspective exercise that we could ever indulge ourselves. The fact of the matter is that it doesn’t cost much to question ourselves; it is free, but for most of us, it is the most expensive commodity because we hate to question ourselves and our actions. But to question ourselves does, in fact, help in our healing process. It is through these questions that we chance upon the gift of a new approach to old problems.

One of the sentiments that are usually associated with congregations is, "That’s the way we have always done it." Great! But why? The why may be lost over time, but that doesn’t dismiss the fact that there was a sound rationale behind that decision. For that reason, it is imperative to interrogate and seek input from others before kicking the rickety fence off your path because you simply don’t know the use of it.

I have no doubt in my mind that Chesterton is right about the fence - be it imaginary or real. If you ask me, this fence is everywhere we turn to, and its prevalence in our lives and spaces should provoke a measure of deep thinking within us. I will suggest another word for thinking-reflection.

Lent does invite all of us to sober reflection - that’s the time where we get to ask ourselves those eternal questions: "Why do I do the very things that I promised myself not to do? Why are things the way they are with me? Do I have to kick the rickety fence off my path so I can go on with my business?" Tough questions, but very necessary ones. But we must approach these questions about ourselves and others with an open mind and sober reflection.

If ‘Good fences make good neighbors,’ as Robert Frost argues, then it may take more than instant gratification to understand why there is a fence - whether we see one or not, for there is more to life than what we see with our naked eyes.

Our task, in any and all situations, is to go a little deeper, to think a lot harder, just so we can understand. Indeed, thinking alone may not necessarily reveal another person's good intentions, but you may gain insight into their thoughts. And often, that is what matters—understanding that comes from insight.

I learned that revelation comes alive when we understand, and that process takes a lot more effort, some prayer - and some dose of humility. 

So, this Lent, don't forget to do some more questioning and thinking. You may gain some understanding of God's walk with you and your walk with others.



Manny+