Quaresma

(Charleton Hesston in the Ten Commandments. Photo courtesy of Paramount pictures.)

Ballad of the Goodly Fere

            By Ezra Pound

Ha' we lost the goodliest fere o' all

For the priests and the gallows tree?

Aye lover he was of brawny men,

O'ships and the open sea.

When they came wi' a host to take Our Man

His smile was good to see,

"First let these go!" quo' our Goodly Fere,

"Or I'll see ye damned," says he.

Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears

And the scorn of his laugh rang free,

"Why took ye not me when I walked about

Alone in the town?" says he.

Oh we drunk his "hale" in the good red wine

When we last made company,

No capon priest was the Goodly Fere

But a man o'men was he.

I ha' seen him drive a hundred men

Wi' a bundle o' cords swung free,

That they took the high and holy house

For their pawn and treasury

I ha' seen him cow a thousand men

On the hills o' Galilee,

They wined as he walked out calm between,

Wi' his eyes like the grey o' the sea,

Like the sea that brooks no voyaging

With the winds unleashed and free,

Like the sea that he cowed at Genseret

Wi' twey words spoke' suddenly.

A master of men was the Goodly Fere,

A mate of the wind and sea,

If they think they ha' slain our Goodly Fere

They are fools eternally.

John Eldridge in his book, “Wild at Heart,” writes: “Christ is no passive "capon priest ... no pale-faced altar boy with his hair parted in the middle, speaking softly, avoiding confrontation, who at last gets himself killed because he has no way out. He works with wood, commands the loyalty of dockworkers. He is the Lord of hosts, the captain of angel armies. And when Christ returns, he will be at the head of a dreadful company, mounted on a white horse, with a double-edged sword, his robe dipped in blood. Now that sounds a lot more like William Wallace than it does Mother Teresa. No question about it, there is something fierce in the heart of God."

Maybe we have forgotten that we have a rigorous faith.  Maybe we have forgotten that Christianity is not for the faint-hearted.  Maybe we have forgotten that Christianity is not, as Karl Marx once said, “an opiate for the masses.” While it is true, as CS Lewis has said, that in dying Christ did for us what we cannot do for ourselves, it is also true that we are expected to follow Him; and these forty days of Lent leading up to the Christian Passover is an opportunity for us to take our place with Moses and Elijah and Jonah and Jesus Himself.  There is nothing magical about the number forty, but there is something Biblically significant about 40; the Latin word is “quaresma.” When we think of “forty” we are reminded of all the old stories; The Israelites were in the wilderness for forty years.  Moses was on the mountain for forty days.  Jesus was in the tomb for forty hours.  So we give up chocolate and read the Psalms we do something; and whatever it is we do for forty days, in that time we rescue Jesus.  We rescue Jesus from being a gentle-hearted savior; we rescue God from being a sentimental weakling who will allow us to live without rebuke; we rescue our faith from being an opiate for the masses and we remember that we worship a sovereign and holy God and our faith is not one lived on couches by potatoes, but one lived by adventurers to undiscovered countries, and prophets to unrepentant people, and soldiers redeeming captive lands.  Our faith is one that will challenge us as well as comfort us; break us to fix us, and try us but ultimately bring us face to face with the One who has gone before us.  What will you do and where will you go in the next forty days for our Lord.  Blessings to you, Godspeed, and safety on Your journey. Amen.

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.