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For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio

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The first critical edition of Auden's only explicitly religious long poem

For the Time Being is a pivotal book in the career of one of the greatest poets of the twentieth century. W. H. Auden had recently moved to America, fallen in love with a young man to whom he considered himself married, rethought his entire poetic and intellectual equipment, and reclaimed the Christian faith of his childhood. Then, in short order, his relationship fell apart and his mother, to whom he was very close, died. In the midst of this period of personal crisis and intellectual remaking, he decided to write a poem about Christmas and to have it set to music by his friend Benjamin Britten. Applying for a Guggenheim grant, Auden explained that he understood the difficulty of writing something vivid and distinctive about that most clichéd of subjects, but welcomed the challenge. In the end, the poem proved too long and complex to be set by Britten, but in it we have a remarkably ambitious and poetically rich attempt to see Christmas in double focus: as a moment in the history of the Roman Empire and of Judaism, and as an ever-new and always contemporary event for the believer. For the Time Being is Auden's only explicitly religious long poem, a technical tour de force, and a revelatory window into the poet's personal and intellectual development. This edition provides the most accurate text of the poem, a detailed introduction by Alan Jacobs that explains its themes and sets the poem in its proper contexts, and thorough annotations of its references and allusions.

136 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1945

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About the author

W.H. Auden

617 books1,063 followers
Poems, published in such collections as Look, Stranger! (1936) and The Shield of Achilles (1955), established importance of British-American writer and critic Wystan Hugh Auden in 20th-century literature.

In and near Birmingham, he developed in a professional middle-class family. He attended English independent schools and studied at Christ church, Oxford. From 1927, Auden and Christopher Isherwood maintained a lasting but intermittent sexual friendship despite briefer but more intense relations with other men. Auden passed a few months in Berlin in 1928 and 1929.

He then spent five years from 1930 to 1935, teaching in English schools and then traveled to Iceland and China for books about his journeys. People noted stylistic and technical achievement, engagement with politics, morals, love, and religion, and variety in tone, form and content. He came to wide attention at the age of 23 years in 1930 with his first book, Poems ; The Orators followed in 1932.

Three plays in collaboration with Christopher Isherwood in 1935 to 1938 built his reputation in a left-wing politics.

People best know this Anglo for love such as "Funeral Blues," for political and social themes, such as "September 1, 1939," for culture and psychology, such as The Age of Anxiety , and for religion, such as For the Time Being and "Horae Canonicae." In 1939, partly to escape a liberal reputation, Auden moved to the United States. Auden and Christopher Isherwood maintained a lasting but intermittent sexual friendship to 1939. In 1939, Auden fell in lust with Chester Kallman and regarded their relation as a marriage.

From 1941, Auden taught in universities. This relationship ended in 1941, when Chester Kallman refused to accept the faithful relation that Auden demanded, but the two maintained their friendship.

Auden taught in universities through 1945. His work, including the long For the Time Being and The Sea and the Mirror , in the 1940s focused on religious themes. He attained citizenship in 1946.

The title of his long The Age of Anxiety , a popular phrase, described the modern era; it won him the Pulitzer Prize in 1947. From 1947, he wintered in New York and summered in Ischia. From 1947, Auden and Chester Kallman lived in the same house or apartment in a non-sexual relation and often collaborated on opera libretti, such as The Rake's Progress for music of Igor Stravinsky until death of Auden.

Occasional visiting professorships followed in the 1950s. From 1956, he served as professor at Oxford. He wintered in New York and summered in Ischia through 1957. From 1958, he wintered usually in New York and summered in Kirchstetten, Austria.

He served as professor at Oxford to 1961; his popular lectures with students and faculty served as the basis of his prose The Dyer's Hand in 1962.

Auden, a prolific prose essayist, reviewed political, psychological and religious subjects, and worked at various times on documentary films, plays, and other forms of performance. Throughout his controversial and influential career, views on his work ranged from sharply dismissive, treating him as a lesser follower of William Butler Yeats and T.S. Eliot, to strongly affirmative, as claim of Joseph Brodsky of his "greatest mind of the twentieth century."

He wintered in Oxford in 1972/1973 and summered in Kirchstetten, Austria, until the end of his life.

After his death, films, broadcasts, and popular media enabled people to know and ton note much more widely "Funeral Blues," "Musée des Beaux Arts," "Refugee Blues," "The Unknown Citizen," and "September 1, 1939," t

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Displaying 1 - 30 of 69 reviews
Profile Image for ladydusk.
583 reviews276 followers
January 1, 2024
The end does justice to the confusion before.

Alan Jacobs' introduction is wonderful.
The Oratorio will take many more reads, I expect each to be more than the last.

2023: I followed a little bit more this year. The mix of history and modernity can be disorienting, but is worth persevering through. There are some really beautiful, thought provoking passages.
Profile Image for Jacob Vahle.
350 reviews16 followers
January 11, 2021
Simply stunning - I will be reading this every Advent the rest of my life. Seem exaggerated? Ask me in 50 years if I am still reading it.

An 80 page poem that brings the Nativity into the "present time being", it gives me a fresh and beautiful look at the Incarnation. It switches from Herod's obsessive prose musings as he flips through channels looking for threats to his power, switches to Joseph's pondering whether to leave Mary and take the easier way out of this "mess, switches to the Wise Men and Shepherd who have both been searching for meaning all their life, and finally even to the Star itself proclaiming a new day. Simply incredible and beautiful.

Alan Jacobs' intro was super helpful, because though this is a beautiful poem, Auden can get tricky at times. Unfortunately, the poem isn't available online as a PDF - had to buy it on Amazon, but worth every penny.

Here's a taste of how this mind-blowing meditation on the mystery of the Incarnation:
"We who must die demand a miracle.
How could the Eternal do a temporal act,
The Infinite become a finite fact.
Nothing can save us that is possible.
We who must die demand a miracle."
Profile Image for Moriah.
4 reviews
December 28, 2025
He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.

He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.

He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.
Profile Image for Mira Jundi.
40 reviews30 followers
February 26, 2017
Everytime I read Auden's poetry, I understand more why his age was called "Auden's Age".
Profile Image for Abe Cho.
5 reviews11 followers
December 14, 2013
A demanding read to be sure, but in all that it expects of you as a reader, it yields its wealth in astonishing ways. Reading this during the Advent season, I am delighted to discover how it has soaked these days of waiting with a deep, even severe, meaning that doesn't just haunt my thoughts; it churns in my gut. This, along with his "Horae Canonicae," have reminded me why, in generations past, poetry was put to memory--because when beauty rings true (the way it does here), it can not only show us how to live; it can actually change who we are. This will go down as one of the most important works I have read. And maybe one day, if I can make the time, I'll even commit some to memory.
Profile Image for Anna Schilke.
8 reviews3 followers
February 1, 2025
This is the only book I reread every year. Auden captures the incarnation in a way that makes it timeless, both mystical and simple. 'There is a way; There is a voice.' Seldom has the truth ever been so beautiful.
Profile Image for Tom.
284 reviews2 followers
December 19, 2022
A lovely reflection on the Nativity during Advent. Auden's theology isn't perfect, but it carefully draws our attention to details of the incarnate God in ways that are extraordinarily easy to overlook in the humdrum of "holidays".

Herod has never seemed so sympathetic.

---

Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes --
Some have got broken -- and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week --
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted -- quite unsuccessfully --
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid's geometry
And Newton's mechanics would account for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
Profile Image for Gavin Breeden.
355 reviews78 followers
January 18, 2014
A complex, difficult, beautiful poem about the Incarnation -- Auden's longest, explicitly Christian poem. I won't pretend to understand everything in this 60-page poem (even with the help of Alan Jacobs' helpful introductory essay and notes on the text) but I was definitely stirred at several points. Easily my favorite part was the section from Mary's perspective at the birth. The conversation between the star and the wise men was also a high point. The first section focuses on the anticipation of the second coming (and it sets an anxious tone for the poem) which was a pretty brilliant idea, I think. While some parts seemed impossibly tough, this is a work that I plan to revisit each December and I hope over the years it will reveal its secrets to me.
Profile Image for Aberdeen.
359 reviews36 followers
December 30, 2024
I knew I wanted to read this when I saw the line "nothing can save us that is possible" quoted somewhere last year. I read it over several days, from Dec 23-27, which was perfect because it begins in Advent, follows the characters through the nativity, and closes with packing up Christmas decorations. I want to make it a yearly Advent-Christmas read.

Now, did I understand this whole thing? Far from it. Much of it reminded me of T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets, which I am also far from understanding fully. But some parts moved me deeply and others made me pause and think, and what is the point of a work of art if you can grasp it in one quick go?

Perhaps my favorite thing about this poem is Auden's blend of historical characters and narrative with modern issues, language, and images. It was never what I expected. I can't wait to come back to it next year.

Alone, alone, about a dreadful wood
Of conscious evil runs a lost mankind,
Dreading to find its Father lest it find
The Goodness it has dreaded is not good.
Alone, alone, about a dreadful wood.

~

What is real / About us all is that each of us is waiting

~

THE SHEPHERDS
Then who is the Unknown
Who answers for our fear
As if it were His own,
So that we reply
Till the day we die:
"No, I don't know why,
But I'm glad I'm here"?

~

CHORUS
Lions came loping into the lighted city.

Now and forever, we are not alone.

Safe in His silence, our songs are at play.

Its errors forgiven, may our Vision find its home.
Profile Image for Isabella Leake.
200 reviews9 followers
January 1, 2023
On my third or fourth (maybe fifth?) reading, I think I almost started to understand this poem. There is a lot that remains elusive, and I still have trouble seeing it as "a technical tour de force" (as the synopsis to this edition claims). But making allowances for the fact that I may never truly love or understand Auden, I enjoyed this rereading.

There are portions that struck me this time as profound and beautiful and "worth it" -- worth putting up with Auden's annoyances and incomprehensibilities in other parts. I particularly liked the material spoken by Mary -- her Magnificat and her lullaby to the infant Christ -- the Temptation of St. Joseph and the narrator's claim that Joseph must suffer as "representative" of all the male sex, the dialog between shepherds (too nostalgic) and magi (too progressive), and of course the long and humorous passages "Great is Caesar" and Herod's soliloquy. The ending, though parts of the argument still elude me, is poignant and apt.

I don't quite grasp the genius of the poem as a whole, though Alan Jacobs' 30-page introduction in this edition gets me closer to appreciation, but I'm content, for the time being, to have grown to enjoy parts of it.
Profile Image for David Martin.
70 reviews2 followers
December 27, 2025
What to say? What words to describe the experience of reading W.H. Auden's longform poem "For the Time Being" on this lazy afternoon of the 4th Advent Sunday? This was my second time reading Auden’s gripping adaptation of the nativity, and it hit even harder than the first. The monologue by Herod, in which he justifies the slaughter of innocent children for the sake of order and rationality, gave me chills. The portrayal of Joseph being confronted with the utter improbability of the child in Mary’s womb actually being from God and not from another man was deeply affecting. And then there is this line right at the beginning, which just makes one pause and ponder our shared humanity: "We are afraid/ Of pain but more afraid of silence; for no nightmare/ Of hostile objects could be as terrible as this Void./ This is the Abomination. This is the wrath of God."

Part of the genius of this poem to me is how it intertwines the historical event of Christ's birth with the here and now. This is an event that happened once in history, but in this "Time Being" - this long Advent season - the incarnation of the Son of God into this beautiful, brutal world is as real as it ever was.

Read again in 2025: both the opening and Herod‘s monologue cut to the bone ever time.
Profile Image for Eli Sarah.
34 reviews15 followers
August 14, 2020
“One act is censored, Prospero,
My audience is my own;
Nor Adrian nor Francisco know
The drama that Antonio
Plays in his head alone.”

“Sleepily stretching itself at the window. I mean
That the world of space where events reoccur is still there,
Only now it's no longer real; the real one is nowhere
Where time never moves and nothing can ever happen:
I mean that although there's a person we know all about
Still bearing our name and loving himself as before,
That person has become a fiction; our true existence
Is decided by no one and has no importance to love.”

“That is why we despair; that is why we would welcome
The nursery bogey or the winecellar ghost, why even
The violent howling of winter and war has become
Like a juke-box tune that we dare not stop. We are afraid
Of pain but more afraid of silence; for no nightmare
Of hostile objects could be as terrible as this Void.
This is the Abomination. This is the wrath of God.”

“As long as the self can say “I” it is impossible not to rebel;
As long as there is an accidental virtue, there is a necessary
vice:
And the garden cannot exist, the miracle cannot occur.
For the garden is the only place there is, but you will not find it
Until you have looked for it everywhere and found nowhere that is not a desert;
The miracle is the only thing that happens, but to you it will not be apparent,
Until all events have been studied and nothing happens that you cannot explain;
And life is the destiny you are bound to refuse until you have consented to die.

Therefore, see without looking, hear without listening, breathe without asking:
The Inevitable is what will seem to happen to you purely
by chance;
The Real is what will strike you as really absurd;
Unless you are certain you are dreaming, it is certainly a dream of your own;
Unless you exclaim-There must be some mistake'-you
must be mistaken.”

“For behind the spontaneous joy of life
There is always a mechanism to keep going.”
Profile Image for Katie Bascom.
6 reviews2 followers
January 7, 2019
I once heard that Benjamin Britten set this oratorio to music. That turned out to be false, but if it were true, I would listen to the whole thing... even though, with a 55-page-long libretto, it would probably be an all-day affair. It's just that good. Auden shows the reader the universal types of the drama of the Incarnation through a variety of poetic forms, including prose. An excellent read for Christmastide.
Profile Image for Elliot.
Author 12 books28 followers
December 18, 2022
I can see this becoming a regular reread during the Advent season. Going through it slowly and meditatively has helped me reflect on the incarnation more fully. Alan Jacobs’s introduction and notes added a lot to my enjoyment and understanding of Auden’s work.
Profile Image for Matt Allhands.
76 reviews2 followers
December 26, 2022
This oratorio is fantastic in capturing the characters and background of the nativity and bringing the whole of it to bear on modern life. One quick would of caution would be that of Simeon’s chapter where it is said that the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was an illusion of Satan and not a creation of the LORD. Still, Auden was a poet not a theologian, so some elaboration should be expected - and the error doesn’t detract from the overall thrust of this great work. This is a well worthy of return visits.
Profile Image for Ruth.
1,438 reviews46 followers
December 26, 2017
Staggering in its beauty and scope. A condemnation of the moment as well as era. Possibly even the age. Condemns while offering hope. I plan to make this be part of my annual Christmas observance.
Profile Image for Beth.
222 reviews
Read
December 29, 2022
So glad to have finally delved into Auden…generally over my head, but moments of recognition. I look forward to reading this again, maybe next December?
Profile Image for Karl.
122 reviews
December 18, 2018
Imagine a Sean Bean as Boromir: “One does not simply read an Auden poem.” There is way too much going on in this book to attempt any sort of thorough or effective review. The word often found in reviews of Auden’s poetry is “bloodless;” I might be able to pick at some scabs.

“For the Time Being” was published 1945 after W. H. Auden’s return to the UK. It is a nativity story told in the style of the “mystery plays” of the fourteenth and fifteenth century. Much of the poem reads like a liturgical recitation, though Auden plays with that format throughout. At some points the narrator is made to sound like a BBC radio announcer, at other times he abandons the format (as well as rhyme and meter) for extended soliloquies. While ostensibly set in the reign of Augustus, it is purposely filled with anachronisms, sometimes added for comedic effect. Much of this serious work is barbed comedy directed at contemporary and ancient figures alike, some who have no reason to deserve it. Why parody Marcus Aurelius? Because he can, apparently:

To my brother, Sandy, who married a trapeze-artist and died of drink – for so refuting the position of the Hedonists.

To Mr. Stewart, nicknamed The Carp, who instructed me in the elements of geometry through which I came to perceive the errors of the tragic poets….


Auden was a notorious atheist, socialist, and homosexual. This is book is typically described as Auden “reclaiming the Christian faith of his childhood.” While it is hard to judge in matters of faith, he seems to continue his doubt in aspects of Christian doctrine. First, there is the recognition that Joseph is treated badly by God and his angels:

CHORUS:
Mary may be pure,
But, Joseph, are you sure?
How is one to tell?
Suppose, for instance … Well …


Later

JOSEPH:
All I ask is one
Important and elegant proof
That what my Love had done
Was really at your will
And that your will is Love.

GABRIEL:
No, you must believe;
Be silent, and sit still.


In his pleas to Joseph and Mary, Auden mocks all the groups that he considers to be exalted by the church: The romantics, the innocent, the bourgeoisie, mischievous children, and the dull. He takes a pointed barb at the doctrine of original sin:


BOY’S SEMI-CHORUS:
Joseph, Mary, pray for us,
Independent embryos who,
Unconscious in another, do
Evil as each creature does
In every definite decision
To improve; for even in
The germ-cell’s primary division
Innocence is lost and sin,
Already given as a fact,
Once more issues as an act.


So… Let it be understood that Auden was troubled, and conflicted, and unhappy, that he was mad enough at his ex-boyfriend to give up a cushy faculty spot at the University of Michigan to return to England in the middle of a war, and, also, war sucks. He writes poetry that is hard to understand because, screw you, he’s a great poet, he is always misunderstood. If this is all there was, I don’t think anyone would remember this poem except for a few English professors.

In 1936, Auden went to Spain to fight on the side of the Soviet-supported republican (socialist) government. Unlike George Orwell, Auden was considered politically reliable and was assigned to propaganda service. By all indications and despite later protestations, Auden left Spain a true believer, even though he began to have doubts several years later. In his poem about his time in the Spanish Civil War titled “Spain”, Auden includes these lines:

Tomorrow for the young the poets exploding like bombs,
The walks by the lake, the weeks of perfect communion;
Tomorrow the bicycle races
Through suburbs on the summer evening. But today the struggle.

Today the deliberate increase in the chances of death,
The conscious acceptance of guilt in the necessary murder;
Today the expending of powers
On the flat ephemeral pamphlet and the boring meeting.


George Orwell confronted Auden about this section: “the second stanza is intended as a sort of thumbnail sketch of a day in the life of a ‘good party man.’ In the morning a couple of political murders, a ten-minutes’ interlude to stifle ‘bourgeois’ remorse, and then a hurried luncheon and a busy afternoon and evening chalking walls and distributing leaflets. All very edifying. But notice the phrase ‘necessary murder.’ It could only be written by a person to whom murder is at most a word.” Much later in life, Auden did not allow this poem to be included in this collected works.

The reason most people talk about "For the Time Being" today is because of one section of one chapter in which King Herod justifies the Massacre of the Innocents. This is most remembered part of the poem and, in retrospect, the most biographically significant. You sense that there is more than a bit of projection as Herod agonizes over the question of how to justify political murder. In this section, Herod acknowledge the innocence of the Christ child, but weighs it against the threat that the child poses to the good and rational political order which has improved the lives of so many.

Barges are unloading soil fertilizer at the river wharves. Soft drinks and sandwiches may be had in the inns at reasonable prices. Allotment gardening has become popular. The highway to the coast goes straight up over the mountains and the truck-drivers no longer carry guns. Things are beginning to take shape. It is a long time since anyone stole the park benches or murdered the swans. There are children in the province who have never seen a louse, shopkeepers who have never handled a counterfeit coin, women of forty who have never hidden in a ditch except for fun….

Yet even inside this little civilized patch itself, where, at the cost of heaven knows how much grief and bloodshed, it has been made unnecessary for anyone the age of twelve to believe in fairies or that First Causes reside in mortal and finite objects, so many are still homesick for that disorder wherein ever passion formerly enjoyed a frantic license. Caesar flies to his hunting lodge pursued by ennui; in the faubourgs of the Capital, Society grows savage, corrupted by silks and scents, softened by sugar and hot water, made insolent by theatres and attractive slaves; and everywhere, including this province, new prophets spring up every day to sound the old barbaric note.


After framing his dilemma as a fight between an immoral rational order against a morally-simple barbarism, Herod predicts what the world will become if the Christ-child is permitted to live:

Reason will be replaced by Revelation. Instead of Rational Law, objective truths perceptible to any who will undergo the necessary intellectual discipline, and the same for all, Knowledge will degenerate into a riot of subjective visions – feelings in the solar plexus induced by undernourishment, angelic images generated by fevers or drugs, dream warning inspired by the sound of falling water. Whole cosmogonies will be created out of some forgotten personal resentment, complete epics written in private languages, the daubs of school children ranked above the greatest masterpieces…. Life after death will be an eternal dinner party where all the guests are twenty years old… Justice will be replaced by Pity as the cardinal human virtue, and all fear of retribution will vanish… The New Aristocracy will consist exclusively of hermits, bums, and permanent invalids. The Rough Diamond, the Consumptive Whore, the bandit who is good to his mother, the epileptic girl who has a way with animals will be the heroes and heroines of the New Tragedy when the general, the statesman, and the philosopher have become the butt of every farce and satire.


Herod ends with what must have been the dilemma many political ideologues in his time and every time:

O dear, Why couldn’t this wretched infant be born somewhere else? Why can’t people be sensible? I don’t want to be horrid. Why can’t they see that the notion of a finite God is absurd? Because it is. And suppose, just for the sake of argument, that it isn’t, that this story is true, that this child is in some inexplicable manner both God and Man, that he grows up, lives, and dies, without committing a single sin? Would that make life any better? On the contrary it would make it far far worse. For it could only mean this; that once having shown them how, God would expect every man, whatever his fortune, to lead a sinless life in the flesh and on earth. Then indeed would the human race be plunged into madness and despair. And for me personally at this moment it would mean that God had given me that power to destroy Himself. I refuse to be taken in. He could not play such a horrible practical joke. Why should He dislike me so? I’ve worked like a slave. Ask anyone you like. I read all official dispatches without skipping. I’ve taken elocution lessons. I’ve hardly ever taken bribes. How dare He allow me to decide? I’ve tried to be good. I brush my teeth every night. I haven’t had sex for a month. I object. I’m a liberal. I want everyone to be happy. I wish I had never been born.
Profile Image for Sarah Myers.
132 reviews32 followers
December 9, 2019
I re-read at least parts of this poem every year during Advent, and it never gets old. This time I read an edition from Princeton University Press, which I highly recommend for Alan Jacobs' very helpful introduction and notes. The literary allusions were thicker than I would have noticed in the poem; for instance, one of my favorite lines near the end, "God will cheat no one, not even the world of its triumph," is a reference to an aphorism from Kafka. (Nevertheless, the poem is not so allusive and abstruse that it cannot be enjoyed without understanding all the references, either.)

The poem/series of poems was originally conceived as a Christmas oratorio to be set to music by Benjamin Britten. The musical setting never came off, in part because of disputes between Auden and Britten, and in part--one suspects--because it was simply unsuited to serving as the text for a musical oratorio. It moves from Advent to the Annunciation to several other events surrounding Christ's birth, but it is not a historical narrative poem. Each of the events chosen is chosen because of its ability to support a more cosmically significant symbolic role. Thus the shepherds waiting in the fields represent all the insignificant of the world, and Herod represents the vision of a rationally well-ordered world brought about by government and sound philosophy. (Mary is, perhaps, the exception in the poem; her song at the manger seems to express only her own motherhood. Perhaps she shares with Christ the honor of, in the words of the poem, being "in no sense a symbol" while "of every other creature it can be said that it has extrinsic importance.")

It's not a cheerful Christmas poem at all; the Advent portions express all the sin-sickened, anxious waiting of a world that has tried (and continues to try) everything else but Christ. Joseph expresses the challenge of faith, its proneness to mockery, and its call to bear the cross of seeming insignificance. In the final section of the poem, as the Christmas tree is packed away, we are reminded that once again we have likely "as in previous years, seen the actual vision and failed / To do more than entertain it as an agreeable / Possibility, once again we have sent Him away / Begging though to remain His disobedient servant." Yet the poem gives powerful expression to the significance of God's incarnation in the world, perhaps most poignantly when we read ourselves in Herod and recognize the comfortable worldly desires that the acceptance of Christ must upset.

Some of my favorite lines, though, are in Simeon's meditation upon seeing the Christ child:

"And because of His visitation, we may no longer desire God as if He were lacking; our redemption is no longer a question of pursuit but of surrender to Him who is always and everywhere present. Therefore at every moment we pray that, following Him, we may depart from our anxiety into His peace."
22 reviews
January 1, 2024
Advent

Darkness
Why haven’t we noticed before? But now everything is changed
“We are afraid of pain, but more afraid of silence.”p.137

God is silent

“Nothing can save us that is possible: we who must die demand a miracle” p138

Annunciation

The 4 faculties- intuition, feeling, sensation, and thought

Gabriel to Mary- within your power of choosing to conceive the child who chooses you.”p 146

Mary has the ability to right what Eve did during creation

The temptation of Joseph

Mary has heard and seen and believes and is praised

Joseph is asked to not see/hear, but to have faith

May we also choose such a difficult life, and believe the impossible story.

The SUMMONS
The wise are drawn to the star against their will
Sophrosyne- healthy state of mind characterized by self control, moderation, and a deep sense of knowing yourself

The star leads us where there is no foothold for logic p 157

When the wise are drawn to Jesus, they should be aware that they are entering what they can not control

First wise man- nature, senses lie- I’m following the star to discover how to be truthful

Second- facts are no reliable- I follow to discover how to live now

Third- to discover how to be loving is the reason to follow

All 3 together- to discover how to be human now is the reason we follow this star

Caesar- brings in order and efficiency, business
He has replaced neighbor with customer
Our great empire will be secure

‘if we were never alone or always too busy, perhaps we might even believe what we know is not true’ 163

Prayer- May we learn to put our trust in Thee

Cameron Wright- ‘The star signaling Jesus’ birth is a summons for all humanity to come, humbly, before the only one who can tell us who we are. Thank God that wonder is something God uses to draw us near; but are we really willing to lay aside everything, even our longing for control and certainty, in order to actually glimpse the truth? The wise men heed the call, and hopefully we will too.’

THE VISION OF THE SHEPHERDS
Mary- wondering what baby Jesus could gain from her except how to be afraid or tempt him from God’s will

Wisemen- came a long way- here and now journey stops
Shepherds- walked many miles but all in the same place- here and now journey begins

THE MEDITATION OF SIMEON
Before the positive could come, it was necessary that nothing could be left to negate p 179

Before the infinite could manifest Itself in the finite

Because of his visitation, we surrender to Hom who is always and everywhere present. Therefore at every moment we pray that, following him, we may depart from our anxiety into his peace

THE MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS
Herod- I have pushed back on the darkness and made a haven of reason. But the people are asking for a God that is like them. The 3 who came today say that God has been born- if I don’t get rid of this god- reason will be replaced with revelation

Simeon- long talk about faith

Herod- long talk about tyranny
Rachel- on left sheep on right dogs, all the while children are dying and you are composing thoughts-
In the middle of this- Jesus came as a child himself

THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT

NARRATOR
Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree, Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes-
Some have got broken-and carrying them up into the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt, And the children got ready for school. There are enough Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week-Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot, Stayed up so late, attempted -quite unsuccessfully-To love all of our relatives, and in general Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away, Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory, And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid's geometry And Newton's mechanics would account for our experience, And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen The Child, however dimly, however incredulously
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be Grew up when it opened. Now, recollecting that moment We can repress the joy, but the guilt remains conscious;
Remembering the stable where for once in our lives
Everything became a You and nothing was an It.
And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause, We look round for something, no matter what, to inhibit Our self-reflection, and the obvious thing for that purpose Would be some great suffering. So, once we have met the Son, We are tempted ever after to pray to the Father:
'Lead us into temptation and evil for our sake'.
They will come, all right, don't worry; probably in a form That we do not expect, and certainly with a force More dreadful than we can imagine. In the meantime There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair, Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem From insignificance. The happy morning is over, The night of agony still to come; the time is noon:
When the Spirit must practise his scales of rejoicing Without even a hostile audience, and the Soul endure A silence that is neither for nor against her faith
That God's Will will be done, that, in spite of her prayers, God will cheat no one, not even the world of its triumph.

Chorus

He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.

He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for
years.

He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.

This is what I am taking with me-
Remembering the stable where for once in our lives, everything became a You and nothing was an It
And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause

The time being in a sense is the most trying time of all.


As in previous years we have seen the actual vision and failed to do more than entertain it as an agreeable possibility, once again we have sent him away, begging though to remain his disobedient servant

Profile Image for Cynthia Kepler-Karrer.
81 reviews1 follower
January 17, 2014
This is my Advent and Christmas reading every year, and every year, I am able to wrap my brain a little bit more around it. Also, every year it yields another surprising paragraph that infuses my imagination for the season. Though Auden can be dense poetry, he has a surprisingly good grasp on humanity, as well as infusing the characters with fresh perspective that takes me out of the stereotypes. Apparently, he wrote it to become the libretto for a musical piece by Benjamin Britten, but it was simply too long.
Profile Image for Stephen Williams.
169 reviews8 followers
December 26, 2023
He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.

He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.

He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.
Profile Image for Michael  A Milton, PhD, MPA.
17 reviews10 followers
Read
December 6, 2017
What did I think about For the Time Being? The delicate from the mean. The mystical from the ordinary. This is Auden and his Advent masterpiece for me. And I am not sure that I like any Advent poetry more, lest it be Donne's sermons.
Profile Image for Jeff.
15 reviews2 followers
Read
January 3, 2025
"To those who have seen / The Child, however dimly, however incredulously, / The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all."
49 reviews2 followers
December 28, 2024
Just read the poem. Second read through. So good. Lots to think about. Auden does not like much of modernity and chastises its excesses with voice of the characters from the nativity story while presenting the beautiful necessity of Christs incarnation and advent in history.

A short excerpt from the end:

Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes —
Some have got broken — and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week —
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted — quite unsuccessfully —
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid’s geometry
And Newton’s mechanics would account for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets
Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen
The Child, however dimly, however incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.”
Profile Image for RyanG37.
60 reviews2 followers
December 31, 2021
Auden's Christmas Oratorio is a retelling of the Christmas story, from Advent to the flight from Egypt in long poem format.

This edition contains an informative introduction from Alan Jacobs, giving some points of reference and background to Auden's thought without giving too much away.

Jacobs suggests that the work is trying to show the folly of both the 'arcadian retreat' (a longing to return to an 'ideally innocent past', a striving for the lost Eden) and the utopian advance ('Utopian temperment looks with arrogant longing towards a perfected future'). And Jacobs says that for Auden, the only answer to both of these fantasies lies in the incarnation, the historical act of love incarnate which shatters our pretense and pulls us into the present, faced with a choice to follow the child.

The poem itself is a mixture of the profound and the puzzling, the beautiful and the bizarre. Both of these features are accentuated by the modern setting of the poem and the revision of the personalities of the main characters. Herod, for example, is depicted more as a stoic self congratulatory semi-moralist than a tyrant, and the wise men and the shephards are moulded to represent the utopian and arcadian temperaments. Some of these character alterations seem to me to be more successful than others, with Joseph perhaps the most compelling.

I will certainly be making this a part of my advent/Christmas reading in years to come, but at least so far it doesn't quite live up to the seriousness and power of T.S. Eliot in 'Journey of the Magi' or 'Choruses from the Rock' for Advent reading.
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