John Milton (1608-1674), considered the greatest poet of his time, composed his most famous work, Paradise Lost (1667), one of the greatest works of English literature, after he had become blind in both eyes.
Milton’s vision worsened over the years, and in 1652, at age 43, he became completely blind. The exact cause is unclear, but glaucoma is the most likely cause.
I am deeply moved by the opening line of Milton’s poem on his blindness, “When I consider how my light is spent…”. This sonnet exemplifies a sincere and profound spiritual self-assessment.
Milton wondered whether God required him to continue his literary pursuits despite the challenges he faced, which he metaphorically describes as a form of “death.” He concluded that (1) we must bear our “mild yoke,” and (2) while God does not need anything from us, we need God. He finishes with the assertion, “They also serve who only stand and wait.”
Andrea Bocelli, born in 1958, an Italian tenor, rose to fame in 1994 after winning the newcomers’ section of the Sanremo Music Festival.
Since 1994, Bocelli has recorded 15 solo studio albums of both pop and classical music, three greatest hits albums, and nine complete operas, selling over 90 million records worldwide.
Bocelli’s sight was impaired from birth due to congenital glaucoma. His mother’s decision to give birth to him and reject the doctor’s advice is the inspiration for him to oppose abortion. At age 12, Bocelli lost his vision completely.
A soldier who successively overcame complex combat-induced PTSD observed, “You can’t have a testimony without a test.” John Milton, Andrea Bocelli, and many others provide us with laudable testimonies of the miracle of life despite lasting misery.
Milton’s poem on his blindness compels us to reflect on how we spend our “light.” In a word, are we living with a sense of meaning, an awareness of the brevity of life even at its longest, and the certain knowledge that life is a miracle?
Alfred Edward Housman (1859-1936), an English classical scholar and poet, showed early promise as a student at the University of Oxford, but he failed his final examination in literature and took employment as a patent examiner in London in 1882.
Housman, one of my favorite poets, was the eldest of 7 children. He was brought up as a devout Christian. His poems reflect an astute awareness of the passage of time, perhaps reflecting the fact he was strongly affected by his mother’s death when he was 12.
Like Housman, I was also close to my mother, a faithful Christian, who died the day she heard my psychiatric practice would soon open. Innumerable prayers from my mother’s heart on bent knees were answered after years of stalking God for a wayward son. Fulfilled, my mother died with God’s peace, the heavenly calmness that surpasses all human understanding.
Now, I understand why I memorized Housman’s poems about life’s brevity and Milton’s “How I Spend My Light,” recognizing the blessing of life:
The Loveliest of Trees (1895)
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
It is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands, I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
I write a poem for each special occasion in our family. It’s understood by our children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren that birthday gifts are presented AFTER I read their poem and BEFORE ice cream and cake. Naturally, ice cream and cake are more pleasing than my poems.
Last year, I collected all my poems, including poems about the Outer Banks and other things that moved me, and published them as ‘Your Innermost Poetry’ and ‘Spiritual Bliss’. I was astonished that poems written long ago restored my memory, and in the same way, music enhanced my fondest recollections. I concluded that writing a poem is an effective way to retrieve long-forgotten meaningful memories, better than “free association,” the orthodox of recall in psychoanalysis.
If you are down on life, failing to truly perceive life as a miracle, don’t dampen your feelings with something you put into your body. Enliven your inner self or soul with the nourishment of love and beauty. A sincere spiritual self-assessment may reveal a longing for holiness or righteousness (getting right with God) that is misunderstood, mislabeled, or even inexplicable.
Milton said we also serve those who “only stand and wait.” Milton, a spiritually honest blind man, is standing on biblical wisdom:
“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” Psalm 27:14.
“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might, he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted, but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40: 28-31.
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:26-28.
We may not write like Milton or Housman. We may not sing like Bocelli. We may not even wait well, but we are miracles, made in the image and likeness of God whose spirit He breathed into your nostrils.
At the same time, we suffer from frailties common to mankind. The core impediment from which we all suffer is a condition many call trite, outdated, and old-fashioned. Our condition is described by a small word with immeasurable consequences. The ugly, unpopular, damnable word is “sin.”
Sin is deadly, costly, alienating, and incurable. Sin celebrates death, corrupts life, deceitfully betrays, degrades, and loves darkness. It can only be forgiven. The Forgiver is the only one who is and always was sinless. He has a name, a birth certificate, and bails us out of sin when we trust and obey Him. He has no death certificate. He sits at the right hand of God.
“Again, Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12.
Robert S. Brown, MD, PHD a retired Psychiatrist, Col (Ret) U.S. Army Medical Corps devoted the last decade of his career to treating soldiers at Fort Lee redeploying from combat. He was a Clinical Professor of Psychiatry and Professor of Education at UVA. His renowned Mental Health course taught the value of exercise for a sound mind.