In the third chapter of The Destiny of the Species I argue that the only clear vantage point from which man can be understood is that of the future. It is not enough to long for heaven merely as a coping device designed to take our minds off how much we lament our earthly lot. No, a legitimate otherworldliness must arise not only from an appreciation of the badness of this age (or for that matter, the goodness of the next), but from the fact that eternal blessedness is what we are uniquely designed for. In other words, heaven is meant to be just as attractive a goal for the one who enjoys his present life as it is for the one who wants to escape it. To see ourselves as we are meant to be seen, therefore, we must run on ahead of ourselves, as it were, and then look back.

The way G.K. Chesterton illustrates this point is by considering anew the famous quandary, “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” As anyone who has considered the dilemma knows, if we say that the chicken came first we cannot answer where it came from, and if we say that the egg came first then we are faced with the question of what laid it. Chesterton’s solution is to reword the problem altogether. The bigger issue, he says, is not which came first, but which comes last:

Leaving the complications of the human breakfast-table out of account, in an elemental sense, the egg only exists to produce the chicken. But the chicken does not exist only in order to produce another egg. He may also exist to amuse himself, to praise God, and even to suggest ideas to a French dramatist. Being a conscious life, he is, or may be, valuable in himself.

In other words, regardless of what may come at the beginning of the pattern, it is certain what comes at the end of it, and that is a chicken. While chickens indeed lay eggs as one of their many functions, eggs only do one thing, and that is produce chickens. “One is a means,” he says, “and the other an end.”

What is Chesterton’s point? Well, when we are seeking to understand the human condition we must first consider what lies at the end of the road rather than merely considering what was there at the beginning of it. “The only way to discuss the social evil is to get at once to the social ideal.... I have called this book What’s Wrong with the World?, and the upshot of the title can be easily and clearly stated. What is wrong is that we do not ask what is right.” As C.S. Lewis used to say, before we can recognize a crooked line as crooked, we must first have some idea of what a straight one would look like.

The point here is simply that we mustn’t lose sight of our divinely-ordained destiny amid the dust and dirt and distraction of this passing age. Yes, the chicken is indeed produced by the egg, and, likewise, we are the product of our ancestry in some respect. But all of that pales in light of the deeper question of what the chicken is for. And likewise with us. Just as the chicken wasn’t made to be a mere egg-layer, so you were not designed to dutifully play the role and follow the script that those in power are so willing to dole out to their subjects. There is one Playwright and Casting Director, who alone reserves the right to tell you who you are and where you fit into the story he is telling. And in this divine tale, saying that “They lived happily ever after” is a horrendous understatement.