Journey of the Magi by T.S. Eliot (see below) has been one of my favourite poems since I first read it as a teenager. It provided a diametrically opposite, and for me shocking view of the Nativity. There is the suggestion of an intense inner struggle within the Magi traveling to see the new born Christ child and the clear implication that the journey wrought in them an inner wisdom. The generally accepted notion from the Christmas story in the West is that the three wise men coming to Bethlehem symbolised the bringing of wisdom from the East.
The Journey of the Magi describes the difficulties of an arduous physical journey but also provides oblique references to a parallel journey – an individual’s journey towards spiritual truth. The poem raises fundamental questions. What kind of Birth and Death is alluded to here? Does it refer only to the birth of Jesus, or is it an allegory of a possible rebirth in a man, a reunion of all his spiritualized parts, a dying to this world? The question burnt in me.
Throughout history there have been myths and legends of journeys that were undertaken by a single character or group of travellers which resulted in profound changes. Pilgrimage – the undertaking of a physically demanding journey to fulfill a sacred purpose, is a well known concept which appears to be enjoying a renaissance. The number of people walking or cycling the pilgrim’s route to Santiago Del Compostella has increased significantly over the last 30 years. Similarly, the number of participants in the great annual Haj to Mecca increases every year.
Several years ago I walked with three other friends along the North Downs Way from South London to Canterbury over Easter, a distance of roughly 100 miles. This is a short journey compared with the great pilgrim trails in France and Spain, but was still demanding. We all suffered physical difficulties of various kinds. There was a real sense of collectively overcoming a general resistance to effort (how strong at times was the inner voice in each of us saying that we should go home). Although our route never strayed far from busy roads and towns, the rhythm of walking for long periods helped us to notice the relics of an ancient landscape – medieval palaces and villages, all built on this long distance path which has been used since the Stone Age. The continuous effort of walking also helped to “let go” of day to day troubles. Perhaps the pilgrim fathers understood this – that the physical journey was a means to an end – to bring together man’s inner parts so they could work more harmoniously. A substantial physical effort certainly appears to help this process, through making the large muscles of the body relax. And then the real journey, the inner search, has the possibility of beginning again.
Geoff Butts