A Bitter Birth

Journey of the Magi

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen both birth and death, but had thought they were different; this birth was hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

What should have been a joyous occasion—the redemption of a sinful humanity—becomes an agony for the Magi. All they hold dear, all they believe, is lost. What they value about all else is no longer of any value. For these travelers, it means death to themselves and their ways of life. They had been told to bring gifts to the very one who would bring them a new order, an order that would not include their religion or culture.

In these lines, Eliot juxtapositions birth and death. Each opposite must contain the other. Our rebirth—as Christians, just as Eliot’s was—arises from a Death. Even as the Magi searched for the Babe, His Death is foretold. It is our own death to self that requires this Birth.

Ephesians 4:22-24 talks about laying aside the “old self, which is being corrupted following the lusts of deceit.” This is where the Magi find themselves as they return to their homes.

I had not planned on becoming my husband’s caregiver; it’s a choice only few would voluntarily make. Yet I—and many others—were thrust from our former lives with well spouses who shared our burdens to carry them alone. We can never go back to the way things were.

REFLECTION:

After Ron’s death, I needed to find a new life for myself and my autistic adult son. Much of my old life no longer fit. That first Christmas I needed to find a new path; I even needed a new tree.

What transitions did you find necessary at the end of a difficult journey?