A Virgilian Advent

The Roman poet Virgil, who died some twenty-odd years before the birth of Christ, wrote in his Fourth Eclogue that a new age was about to dawn. He predicted that a virgin would bear a son, a new generation would descend from heaven, the serpent would perish, and that the Divine would rule and bring a new age of peace. Later Christian writers claimed Virgil as a prophet who somehow foresaw the coming of Christ.  C.S. Lewis, who considered Virgil’s work his favorite, said of the Eclogue and its relation to the birth of Christ, “If this is luck, it is extraordinary luck.”

However, I have always associated Virgil with Advent for another reason. The first time I read Virgil’s Aeneid, a particular passage in Book I jumped off the page and lodged itself in my mind. In the passage, Aeneas has just been shipwrecked in a strange land. It has been seven years since his home was destroyed, and since then he has been forced to remain a wandering exile. He is the son of the goddess Venus, who has aided him on his quest, but he has incurred the wrath of the goddess Juno, who hinders his attempts to find a new home.

While Aeneas explores the strange land, Venus appears disguised as a young girl and brings him good tidings. It is only when she turns to depart that she reveals her divine nature and Aeneas realizes he has been speaking with his own mother. He cries out, “Why, you too, cruel as the rest? Why can’t we clasp hands, embrace each other, exchange some words, speak out, and tell the truth?”

For Aeneas the gods were cruel and beyond reach, but that passage always reminds me of how the incarnation is truly extraordinary. The gods no longer hide and play cruel games with men. God came and revealed Himself for all mankind.

When Lewis translated Book I of the Aeneid, he wrote a particular lamentation of Aeneas to read, “Life has its tears, and men’s mortality its sting.” Commentators say that Lewis was echoing his knowledge of Scripture and clearly referencing I Corinthians 15:55. However, I sometimes wonder if it isn’t the other way around. If St. Paul didn’t have in mind the wanderings of a homeless pagan who lamented that he could not know or embrace the gods. But now Christ has come. Now Christ has risen. Now Christ is coming again. “O death, where is thy sting?”