Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

postmodern pilgrimadvent reflectionChristmas reflection

Dec 22

Man in Lighted Doorway of Church — Church of Nicodemus, Chora, Naxos

“All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different...”

— From "Journey of the Magi" by T. S. Eliot

Listen to T. S. Eliot read his poem “Journey of the Magi” below or read the full text here.

“We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.”

— From "Journey of the Magi" by T. S. Eliot

It can be hard for a postmodern pilgrim when Christmas comes around, the ache of longing and loss more acutely felt as the beauty and power of the Christian narrative crescendos to its most profound and poignant expression in song, ritual, and symbol. For the disabused who still tremble at the mysterium tremendum but who are “no longer at ease here in the old dispensation,” the silence imposed upon them by their conscience is a frustration and a sorrow, a perplexing state of affairs requiring a deep surrender—an existential trust—which they most likely imbibed from the mystical currents flowing deep in the foundations of the very religious tradition from which the demands of good faith have exiled them. To add a little cherry to the top of this figgy pudding of paradox, the situation evokes none other than the opening lines of that most beautiful of Christmas hymns, “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.”

Maybe, for us humans, who can’t seem to stop yapping our gums or arguing our positions on everything from whose religion is right to which toothpaste is best, silence is the only fitting response to an encounter with the Ultimate—and exile its best teacher.