T.S. Eliot was a world-renowned, Nobel Prize-winning English (but American born) poet. He died in 1965 leaving a legacy of beautiful, influential literature.
I read Eliot as an English major in college ("The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,," "The Waste Land"), but I don't remember reading any of his work after he became a Christian. It's possible that we did and I don't remember, or the secular college I attended considered those of lesser artistry and left them out. Regardless, I was perusing an old bookshelf at home and found a collection of his poems. I started reading his explicitly Christian poems and I found them poignant and relevant for today.
In 1934, in addition to witnessing the march of fascism and communism across Europe, he bemoaned the declining interest in God and religion. Churches were more empty than full, and there was a growing sense among the populace that faith was becoming irrelevant in the modern age. This decline has continue in Europe to a point where secularism has become the predominant belief system.
When my parents immigrated from Germany to the U.S. in the mid-50's they were amazed and pleased at how religious the American culture was. By 1956-57, Germany was already a post-Christian nation with churches having more value as historic sites than places of worship. Unfortunately, my parents now in their 80's and having been in America for over 60 years, are seeing the post-Christian culture overtaking this country as well. Fewer and fewer people are attending church and Christianity is more and more seen as an impediment to progress, instead of a bulwark against sin and beacon of hope.
Eliot shares his view with us as he observes 1930's England; in many ways, he's holding up a mirror to us.
Choruses from "The Rock" - 1934
The Eagle soars in the summit of Heaven,
The Hunter with his dogs pursues his circuit.
O perpetual revolution of configured stars,
O perpetual recurrence of determined seasons,
O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying!
The endless cycle of idea and action,
Endless invention, endless experiment,
Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness;
Knowledge of speech, but not of silence;
Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word.
All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance,
All our ignorance brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death no nearer to God .
Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries
Bring us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.
I journeyed to London, to the timekept City,
Where the River flows, with foreign flotations.
There I was told: we have too many churches,
And too few chop-houses. There I was told:
Let the vicars retire. Men do not need the Church
In the place where they work, but where they spend their Sundays.
In the City, we need no bells:
Let them waken the suburbs.
I journeyed to the suburbs, and there I was told:
We toil for six days, on the seventh we must motor
To Hindhead, or Maidenhead.
If the weather is foul we stay at home and read the papers.
In industrial districts, there I was told
Of economic laws.
In the pleasant countryside, there it seemed
That the country now is only fit for picnics.
And the Church does not seem to be wanted
In country or in suburb; and in the town
Only for important weddings.
The Hunter with his dogs pursues his circuit.
O perpetual revolution of configured stars,
O perpetual recurrence of determined seasons,
O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying!
The endless cycle of idea and action,
Endless invention, endless experiment,
Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness;
Knowledge of speech, but not of silence;
Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word.
All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance,
All our ignorance brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death no nearer to God .
Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries
Bring us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.
I journeyed to London, to the timekept City,
Where the River flows, with foreign flotations.
There I was told: we have too many churches,
And too few chop-houses. There I was told:
Let the vicars retire. Men do not need the Church
In the place where they work, but where they spend their Sundays.
In the City, we need no bells:
Let them waken the suburbs.
I journeyed to the suburbs, and there I was told:
We toil for six days, on the seventh we must motor
To Hindhead, or Maidenhead.
If the weather is foul we stay at home and read the papers.
In industrial districts, there I was told
Of economic laws.
In the pleasant countryside, there it seemed
That the country now is only fit for picnics.
And the Church does not seem to be wanted
In country or in suburb; and in the town
Only for important weddings.
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