Category: Blog

But there was no information so we continued and arrived at evening, not a moment too soon. Finding the place, it was (as you may say) satisfactory.

The Magi find no information at the tavern. The Birth has been largely unknown. It was almost two years before the Magi found Him; He was known to most as only, “the carpenter’s son.”

Modern creches often show the Magi at the scene of the manger, but we have two verses in the Bible that tell us otherwise. The shepherds came to the manger and found a baby: “And they came with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the Babe lying in a manger” (Luke 2:16). But the Magi find not a baby, but a child: “And when they had come into the house, they saw the young Child with Mary, His mother, and fell down and worshipped Him” (Matthew 2:11).

And it was, as Eliot says, “not a moment too soon.” The Magi were close to the point of breaking. They had journeyed for almost two years, dealing with cold, hunger, lack of shelter, stubborn camels, and servants running off. Here at last was the end of the journey.

And it was “satisfactory.” Only “satisfactory.” To come such a long way, to survive so many trials, and to find a humble home and a very human child. It was not what the Magi had expected. Yet, they hadn’t really known what to expect when they began their search. Were they, used to opulent lifestyles, disappointed with the ordinary trappings? Perhaps. Nonetheless, what they saw and felt was enough that they fell to their knees and worshipped Him.

There may not have been any fireworks involved in TS Eliot’s conversion, but whatever he found with the Church and Christ was enough for him to remain a dedicated Christian until his death.

In retrospect, I realize my husband’s death was, “not a moment too soon.” I was exhausted and depleted during those last nine months, seldom sleeping and constantly worried. I now know that God took Ron Home at just the right time.

REFLECTION:

When has something happened in your own journey that was, “just the right time”, when you had run out of your own resources and needed to rely only on God?

Then we came to a tavern with vine leaves over the lintel, six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver, and feet kicking at empty wineskins.

TS Eliot, Journey of the Magi

This stanza of TS Eliot’s “Journey of the Magi” is rich in Biblical allusions. The vine leaves are a reference to Jesus as the vine (John 15:1-7) while the lintel reminds the reader of the blood spread on the doors of the Israelites, allowing the Angel of Death to pass over their houses (Exodus 12). In this passage, the Magi stand on the threshold of conversion. The choice is clearly theirs: to step in, or to stay out. It is a choice we each make on our own.

It has been a painful journey for the Magi, arduous and long. But the journey has been one of purification, required as they shed the entrapments of their former lives and enter into the Kingdom. While Eliot continued to maintain he had no “conversion experience”, it is clear from his poetry that the ideas were fermenting in his mind for years. In The Four Quartets (1943 ), he wrote:

Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,

And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,

And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,

The surface glittered out of heart of light.

This is a lovely illustration of both the Magi and Eliot on the edge of conversion, moving from the “dry pool” into running water.

The last lines of this passage are also a foreshadowing of the end of the story: Judas’ betrayal of Jesus for 30 pieces of silver (Matthew 26:15), the parable of the wineskins (Matthew 9:14), and the soldiers dicing for the Robe of Jesus (Matthew 27:35).

The care of a chronically ill spouse ends in one of two ways: recovery or death. 70% of marriages with an ill spouse end in divorce. As Ron’s ongoing illnesses continued to steal him physically and mentally, I was forced to see the likelihood of his death. In those hours after his funeral, when the family had all gone home, I knelt by my rocking chair and said, “Thank God, it is finally over.” Five years later, and I am still not sure if I was thanking God for the end of the horrible day, or the end of my years as a spousal caregiver.

REFLECTION:

It is not easy to contemplate the death of a loved one. It was not until after my husband died that I became familiar with the term, “anticipatory grief.” In a way, it helped prepare me for what was to come, a foreshadowing of my future as a widow. What has helped you to see or accept an inevitable end? How has it strengthened you?

And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.

“The angel answered me, ‘These are the four spirits of heaven, going out from standing in the presence of the Lord of the whole world.” (Zechariah 6:5)

The color white generally stands for righteousness; the horse galloping away probably symbolizes death to the old ways with the coming of Christ. In Eliot’s own life, his conversion also symbolizes his own new life in Christ and the passing of his old ways. Despite the long journey, the poet finds the trip worthwhile.

The Magus had the rare privilege of seeing the Old Order pass away with the coming of the Savior. As they exit the spiritual desolation of their former lives and enter into the verdant valley, they know that they were right to ignore the voices that whispered, “All is folly.”

Now that I have passed four years of spousal caregiving, I sometimes ask myself if the journey was worthwhile. It was hard; it was long. What did I gain from it? Not only did I fulfill my marriage vows, but I also learned that God was capable of supplying the strength I needed at the exact moment I did.

REFLECTION:

What insights have you gained from your own difficult journey that can move you forward to the next journey?

With a running stream and a watermill beating the darkness, and three trees in the low sky.

As the Magi descend into the valley in the second stanza of “Journey of the Magi”, Eliot adds several Biblical allusions. First, the symbol of Jesus as the “living water” as depicted in John 4:10-14 is mirrored in the running stream. The wheels of the watermill are “beating the darkness” and we see an allusion to Jesus as the “light of the world” (John 8:12). In stark contrast to the life-giving details of water and light, we see the “three trees in the low sky”, a reference to both the Holy Trinity but also a foreshadow of the future crucifixion.

In this stanza, Eliot draws a parallel to his own “darkness to light.” After his self-imposed ten-year penance following his abandonment of Vivienne, Eliot married Valene Flecher, his secretary, in 1957. By all accounts, it was a happy marriage. After years of darkness, Eliot had come into the light.

Caring for a husband with both mental and physical issues was an exhausting, uphill battle. I longed for an easier life than I was living, a surcease from what was punishing work. I found refuge in places of running water; the beach if I could manage a day’s escape, or the river at the park if I only had an hour. Both places reminded me of the living water that is Jesus.

REFLECTION: Was there a special place that brought you solace and peace during a difficult journey?

Then, at dawn, we came down to a temperate valley, wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetables.

The second stanza of the poem brings us, at last, out of the hardships and desperations and into a place of hope. The climate in the valley is mild, a contrast to the wintry weather that marked much of the Magi’s journey. There is green growth here, reminiscent of the Garden of Eden. This is a place where the weary Magi can rest a bit before pressing on, confident that they are nearing the end.

As in his poem, “The Waste Land,” Eliot’s Magi long for the breath of life. Throughout the wasteland of his marriage to Vivienne, Eliot turned from worldly ambition and the use of his gift for fame to service of truth and beauty. His guilt at abandoning the mentally unstable Vivienne wracked him for years and he turned to prayer and poetry.

During those difficult and exhausting years of Ron’s illness, I looked for what I called “pockets of peace”: a day Ron had no surgery, a meal I actually ate at the table with the family, or a chance to watch the sunset from our own back deck. Each small moment gave me hope to keep pressing on.

REFLECTION:

In one of your own difficult journeys, what gave you hope and kept you moving forward?

According to Luke 2:3, “Everyone went to register in their own town” which meant Joseph and his pregnant betrothed, Mary, needed to travel to Bethlehem in Judea, the town of David. The reason Luke 2:7 gives for Mary forced to give birth in a stable was that there was “no room for them at the inn.” This may be true, but it is just as likely that the couple was too poor to pay an exorbitant fee. It also indicates that even though Joseph had been born in Bethlehem, he no longer had family there with whom he and Mary might stay.

And the lack of shelters, and the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly

and the villages dirty, charging high prices

Sleeping in snatches, with the voices ringing in our ears,

“This is all folly.”

In the last line of Sanza One, Eliot concludes not with the physical difficulties the Magi encountered, but with their self-doubts. Just what was “all folly”? The travel itself, the promise of the Christ Child? The voice they heard directly contradicted the command the Magi had heard at the beginning of their quest, although the Bible makes no mention of such a command.

With pressure from his literary friends, a disastrous marriage to a dancer, Vivienne Haigh Wood, and a near nervous breakdown, Eliot might have had reasons to believe his conversion “All folly.” But like the Magi, Eliot did not turn back from his conviction but remained a Christian until his death.

The Christian walk is not always an easy one. John 16:33 makes this promise: “In the world, you have tribulation. But take heart, I have overcome the world.” We have this assurance just as the Magi had the prophecies.

“Sleeping in snatches” was my usual nighttime pattern during the last nine months of my husband’s life. There was always some need of his that called me out of bed!

Reflection:

I never regretted accepting Jesus as my Savior, but there were plenty of times I wondered if I had the strength to finish my journey with an ill spouse. Did you ever feel God had called you to a task you were ill-equipped to handle?

A hard time we had of it.

At the end, we preferred to travel all night.

The first line echoes the harshness of the journey the Magi endured. With no rooms, dirty cities, and unfriendly villagers, the entourage decided to travel at night. The “night” in Eliot’s poem is both figurative and literal. At this point in the journey, they had no idea how much longer they would travel. Traveling at night not only shortens the trip but keeps them out of the heat of the daylight sun. In this second-to-last line of Stanza One, we can easily identify with the moods of the Magi; they are discouraged.

TS Eliot wrote in his poem, “Ash Wednesday”—his first published work since his conversion—”Because I do not hope to live again, because I do not hope, because I do not hope to live.” Eliot was turning away from his previous view of the world as a wasteland and seeking, as the Magi did, something worth living for.

During my many years as a spousal caregiver, I could have recited this line every day: I had a hard time of it. But like the Magi, I followed something other than my own desires.

Reflection:

As hard as the dark nights of the soul can be, all suffering has a purpose. Romans 5:3-5 says, “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know they help us to develop our endurance.”

How have your own trials strengthened your faith and prepared you for the rest of your journey?

If the camels in Eliot’s poem were a problem, so were the men who cared for the camels! The Magi who followed the Star had not planned out their journey, nor adequately prepared for it, but they saw their appointment as divine: find the one promised in Isaiah 14:1, “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”

The camel men, however, were hired hands. They had no vested interest in the trip other than getting paid. And when the going got rough, they simply left. Back to the silken girls and the sherberts, no doubt, or at least to an easier task.

Romans 13:12-14 says, “The night is far spent, the day is at hand. Therefore, let us cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light.” TS Eliot’s conversion was his own, “casting off as darkness” and attempting to put on the light. But it’s not an easy thing to do. Many temptations in the world call us away from the journey to Christ. Often those newly converted feel a spiritual high, a sense of excitement. It has been described as a transformative experience. Sooner or later, reality sets in and the road becomes rough and rocky, and we grumble.

Did I grumble during the years I cared for an ill husband and carried far too many burdens? Yes. More than once. But unlike the camel men, I never ran away. I knew that I had been called to a journey of my own, and while I did not really know the way, I knew that God did.

REFLECTION: What were some of the challenges you faced during your own faith walk? How did you endure them?

Before his conversion to Christianity, Eliot had been known as the “enfant terrible” of the Bloomsbury set— which included Virginia Woolf, John Maynard Keynes, and E.M. Forster—writers in the first half of the twentieth century who rejected the social conventions of the day. In fact, Virginia Woolf predicted that Eliot would soon be tired of “Christian stiffness” and return to his former decadent lifestyle. But Eliot remained a firm believer in Christ for the remainder of his life.

In these lines of “Journey of the Magi”, Eliot asserts that the men had lived a prosperous life, able to afford the luxuries of that lifestyle. The gifts the Magi brought to the Christ Child would have been worth 4 million dollars in today’s economy. Rather than yearning to go back to that life of ease, the Magi on their journey became ashamed of the lives they had led, lives that had nothing to do with God. Elliot, as well, regretted the choices he had made before his conversion.

REFLECTION: Many people have a past that still haunts them. Jeremiah 31:3 says “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” No matter what we have done, God still loves us! If something from your past still bothers you, take a moment now to confess it and ask forgiveness.