A poetry reading on this Christmas Eve, from the great T.S. Eliot. He starts by quoting a Christmas sermon from 1622 and then ends with a line I hope to think of every day this year.
Welcome to Politics by Faith, a very special Christmas Eve edition. Taking a time out from preparing Christmas Eve and a little bit of prep on Christmas Day's feast for a quick poetry reading.
T . S. Eliot became a Christian when he was 38 years old. There's a lot to share there in his journey as well, but this poem of his was his proclamation of becoming a Christian. It's called The Journey of the Magi. He wrote it in 1927. It starts off with a quote.
A cold cuts three stanzas. A cold coming, we had of it. Just the worst time of the year for a journey. Such a long journey. The waves deep and the weather sharp. The very dead of winter.
That quote is a paraphrase of a Christmas sermon that was given in 1622 by Lancelot Andrews. How about that for a name? Lancelot Andrews. The original line is, so this is the preacher speaking of the Magi. T . S.
Eliot's poem is from the perspective of the Magi, so he changes a little bit there, but here's the original sermon. A cold coming they had of it at this time of year, just the worst time of the year to take a journey, and especially a long journey. The waves deep, the weather sharp, the days short, the sun farthest off, the very dead of winter. Let me read a little more from that sermon, actually. It's so good. Come is soon said, but a short word, but many a wide and weary step they made.
before they could come to say lo here we are come and at our journey's end it's like easy to be like yeah yeah we're coming this was a journey we don't exactly know but somewhere between 500 and 900 miles maybe took one to three months for the magic. We just read about it in a sentence or two in the Bible. And we're like, oh yeah, they saw a star and they followed it and they arrived. You're like, well, hold on. That's a very long journey, a miserable journey.
And certainly a journey that somewhere along the line, one of the guys had to be like, meh, are we, do we really want to do this? Do we need to do this? We just do something else instead. Should we just turn around? Should we turn around? We should turn around.
Shouldn't we turn around?
Months.
Of this journey, the preacher goes on, we must consider the distance of the place they came from. It was not hard as by the shepherds. This was riding many a hundred miles. The shepherds only came a little bit. The way they came was through deserts, all the way waste and desolate. It was exceedingly dangerous through the midst of thieves and cutthroats.
At the time of their coming, the season of the year, it was no summer progress. A cold coming they had of it at this time of year, just the worst time to take a journey. And he goes on, that's where the weather deep, sharp, days short. And these difficulties they overcame of a wearisome, dangerous, unseasonable journey. And for all this, they came to see Jesus because there was a star. These pagans saw a star.
That's what they did. They studied the stars. If you heard our interview with Lee Strobel recently, he talked about how these were people who studied stars. So they would have noticed something odd and they followed it. Just hard for us to imagine, right? Navigation by the stars.
They did that back then. Okay. Let's keep going. So that's just the first little opening quote. And then so T . S.
Eliot then speaks just like this preacher did about how difficult this journey was. And the camels galled, sore -footed, refractory, lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted.
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces and the silken girls bringing sherbert. This is what they left. Then the camel men cursing and grumbling and running away and wanting their liquor and women. And the night fires going out and the lack of shelters and the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly and the villages dirty and charging high prices. A hard time we had of it. At the end, we preferred to travel all night, sleeping in snatches with the voices singing in our ears, saying that this was all folly.
What are we doing? Look what we left. We left a beautiful place for this. And all day, sleeping in snatches, singing in our voices, singing in our ears, saying, what are we doing? Let's go to stanza number two. Then at dawn, we came down to a temperate valley, wet below the snow line, smelling of vegetation with a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness and three trees on the low sky.
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow. 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 the empty wine skins. But there was no information. And so we continued and arrived that evening. Not a moment too soon finding the place. It was, you may say, satisfactory.
You can go back and listen to that stanza again and, or better yet, you read it and you can see, maybe easier to see, the, um, all the allusions to Jesus. Three trees. for the three chords. A white horse. Maybe the water mill beating the darkness is baptism. We have a river here, like a water river of life.
We have dice, right? Casting of lots. Jesus is the vine. We have wineskins. A lot of biblical imagery here as they're on their journey. And essays and essays could be written about the last line of this penultimate stanza.
And arriving at evening, not a moment too soon, finding the place, it was, you may say, satisfactory. When I first hear the word satisfactory, I think, uh, it's like, uh, all right, I guess. I guess it's fine. It's like a motel six or something like, all right, like it's a bad, I guess, I guess it's fine. Right. But no, that's not what satisfactory meant.
So I went back to Webster's 1828 dictionary. Satisfactory, a most wise and sufficient means of salvation by the satisfactory.
and meritorious death and obedience of the incarnate Son of God, Jesus Christ.
" That's their definition of the word satisfactory. It means Christ is the satisfaction of the law. Satisfied. We've turned satisfied into a performance review. Satisfactory, not satisfactory, above satisfactory. Satisfactory is amazing.
Satisfactory is unbelievably profound. We have this long and this constant longing that we can never fulfill until we die and go to heaven to be satisfied. And Jesus was the price paid. His death on the cross was the price paid for our sins. It's satisfied. It was satisfactory.
So it shouldn't be read, and arrived that evening, not a moment too soon, finding the place. Were we led all that way for birth? There was a birth, certainly. We had evidence, no doubt. I had seen birth and death, but I thought they were different. This birth was hard and bitter agony for us, like death, our death.
We returned to our places, these kingdoms, but no longer at ease here. And the old dispensation, just way of things, and our old way of things. With an alien people clutching their gods, I should be glad of another death. No longer at ease here. Everything's different for them. It's the same.
The place is the same, but they are different. They now see these alien people clutching their gods. They saw Jesus. And we know Jesus. We put to death our old ways. Once they saw the Savior, the old way of things for them was a death.
Just like when we become Christians. And they didn't feel at ease where they were anymore. And neither should we. Our real home is heaven. Hence this unbelievable last line, I should be glad of another death. I think of the story of the Magi as a bit of an odd placement in the Bible.
I love that like I'm a Like, I'm the editor. I mean, I don't know, God. I don't know if you really needed to put this part in here. It seems a little random. God put it in there for a reason. He wanted us to know the Magi as a part of the birth of Jesus.
And I don't think it was just plot development to get Herod involved and all. He wanted us to know their story. And I love this poem.
It's a nice reminder that God came with us, Emmanuel, to save us so we can go to heaven.
We are with an alien people clutching their gods down here. I should be glad of another death. Merry Christmas. Mike Slater dot Locals dot com. Transcript commercial free on the website. Mike Slater dot Locals dot com.