Rector's Rambling, May 2010- Alfredus Magnus

Rector’s Rambling- May 2010

Those who know me best say that I am rather predictable. Some of them also know that when I truly believe that my world is passing, I reach for a well thumbed copy of G. K. Chesterton’s “Ballad of the White Horse.” The flurry of Easter activities precluded my reading of the news about our denomination, country, and world. But the passing of that great day led me back to the news servers, and I reached again for my well loved copy of the story of King Alfred and my other beloved friends. Mark, the dutiful Roman, has always called me to what I hope to be, but fear I am not. On the eve of the Battle of Ethandune “His speech was a single one,… Dig for me where I die, he said…Bear not my body home, For all the earth is Roman earth, And I shall die in Rome.” Eldred the Saxon has always been my favorite character. In the midst of battle he thought of beautiful things, and of home. “But while he moved like a massacre, He murmured as in sleep, And his words were all of low hedges, And little fields and sheep. Even as he strode like a pestilence, That strides from Rhine to Rome, He thought how tall his beans might be, If ever he went home.” And then there is “Alfred born in Wantage, who (sic) Rules England till the doom.” Of him our Lady had spoken, “But you and all the kind of Christ, Are ignorant and brave, And you have wars you hardly win, And souls you hardly save. I tell you naught for your comfort, Yea, naught for your desire, Save that the sky grows darker yet, And the sea rises higher.” And yet Alfred did prevail for a time, though his world was changed forever. In his brokenness and humility, he faithfully lifted high the Cross of Christ, knowing full well that every generation of Christians would be called to do the same.
And now is our time, for the vision of Alfred is fulfilled. “I have a vision, and I know, The heathen shall return. They shall not come with warships, They shall not waste with brands, But books be all the eating, And ink be on their hands. Not with the humor of hunters, Or savage skill in war, But ordering all things with dead words, Strings shall they make of beasts and birds, And wheels of wind and star. They shall come mild as monkish clerks, With many a scroll and pen; And backward shall ye turn and gaze, Desiring one of Alfred’s days, when pagans still were men…By this sign you shall know them, The breaking of the sword, And Man no more a free knight, That loves or hates his lord. Yea, this shall be the sign of them, The sign of dying fire; And man made like a half-wit, That knows not of his sire. What though they come with scroll and pen, And grave as a shaven clerk, By this sign you shall know them, That they ruin and make dark. By all men bound to Nothing, Being slaves without a lord, By one blind idiot world obeyed, Too blind to be abhorred; By terror and the cruel tales, Of curse in bone and kin, By weird and weakness winning, Accursed from the beginning, By detail of the sinning, And denial of the sin; By thought a crawling ruin, By life a leaping mire, By a broken heart in the breast of the world, And the end of the world’s desire; By God and man dishonoured, By death and life made vain, Know ye the old barbarian, The barbarian come again- When is great talk of trend and tide, And wisdom and destiny, Hail that undying heathen, That is sadder than the sea. In what wise man shall smite him, Or the Cross stand up again, Or charity or chivalry, My vision saith not; and I see No more; but now ride doubtfully To the battle of the plain.”
And so with Alfredus Magnus, Rex Brittorum, I am called to ride forth this day. How the battle will progress I cannot know, but I know the end. In faithfulness and patience we are called to serve our Lord, and that will be enough. As the good king sang before the Dane, “That though you hunt the Christian man, Like a hare on the hill-side, The hare has still more heart to run, Than you have heart to ride. That though all lances split on you, All swords be heaved in vain, We have more lust again to lose, Than you to win again.” Let us rise above our realities and serve faithfully that greater truth.

To Christ, the True King!

Bill+

Citations are from G.K. Chesterton, The Ballad of the White Horse, SanFrancisco, Ignatius Press, 2001 (A beautiful reprint of the 1928 edition illustrated by Robert Austin)