After ten years of arduous warfare in the siege of Troy, Ulysses (so the ancient tale runs) with his companions, turned their hearts eagerly homeward. Among the perils of their journey there was one that proved well-nigh fatal. They had anchored their ship on an unknown coast, and were met by friendly natives who offered them lotus plant which had the peculiar property of causing all who ate of it to forget their business, their homes and their destination, and to settle down in dreamy apathy. When the companions of Ulysses ate of the lotus a soft languorous feeling came over them. All thoughts of home and loved ones seemed to fade from their thoughts, and they forgot the object of all their journey. They refused to go back to the hardship and danger of the journey, and were content to dwell and live and die in the land of the lotus-eaters.

      One can hardly read the old myth without seeing the application as a parable. The Christian, too, is on a homeward journey, a pilgrim and [37] a stranger in the world, after the pattern of Abraham, who being called of God, went forth to find a promised inheritance, looking for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. Among the sweet songs we sing, this is one of the sweetest.

      But one day the song is hushed. A strange lethargy has befallen the pilgrim. He has forgotten his calling and the goal of his pilgrimage. His zeal, his aspiration, his hope, has well-nigh faded away. What has happened? The world is full of lotus and lotus-eaters. Has he fallen in with them and eaten of the fatal weed? Likely so. "Beloved, I beseech you as sojourners and pilgrims that ye abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul," says the apostle Peter. That is the fatal lotus which makes the Christian forget his purpose and his calling and inheritance. The love of money, the quest for honor among men, and popularity--"the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, the pride of life"--these are the tempting lotus-leaves which are offered to God's pilgrims. The booths of Vanity Fair are filled with such wares. He stops and eats and grows forgetful of his high and holy destiny. A drowsy feeling enwraps his soul, a deadening of his spiritual sensibilities, a dreary indifference to the things of God. He has eaten the lotus.

      Haste thee, my brother, to the good Physician, if perhaps the poison may be removed, and the heart renewed unto repentance and by His grace you may again sing the joyful song of your pilgrimage to the home of God. [38]

[LE 37-38.]

      The electronic version of R. H. Boll's "Lotus Eaters" has been produced from The Word and Work, Vol. 95, No. 2 (February 2001), pp. 37-38. The essay is reprinted from its earlier appearance in the magazine, Vol. 47, No. 12 (December 1953), pp. 275-276. Thanks to Alex V. Wilson, Editor of Word and Work, for permission to publish the essay as an electronic text.

      Pagination in the electronic version has been represented by placing the page number in brackets following the last complete word on the printed page. Inconsistencies in spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and typography have been retained.

      Addenda and corrigenda are earnestly solicited.

Ernie Stefanik
Derry, PA

Created 6 May 2001.
Updated 21 June 2003.