Ballad of the Goodly Fere
“In the Garden of Gesthemane, in the dead of night, a mob of thugs ‘carrying torches, lanterns and weapons’ comes to take Christ away. Note the cowardice of it – why didn’t they take him during the light of day, down in the town? Does Jesus shrink back in fear? No, he goes to face them head-on.
Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’
‘Jesus of Nazareth,’ they replied.
‘I am he,’ Jesus said. (And Judas the traitor was standing there with them.) When Jesus said, ‘I am he,’ they drew back and fell to the ground.
Again he asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’
And they said, ‘Jesus of Nazareth.’
‘I told you that I am he,’ Jesus answered. ‘If you are looking for me, then let these men go.’ (John 18:4-8, emphasis added)
Talk about strength. The sheer force of Jesus’ bold presence knocks the whole posse over. A few years ago a good man gave me a copy of a poem Ezra Pound wrote about Christ, called ‘Ballad of the Goodly Fere.’ It’s become my favorite. Written from the perspective of one of the men who followed Christ, perhaps Simon Zelotes, it’ll make a lot more sense if you know that fere is an Old English word that means mate, or companion.
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 whined 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.
Jesus is no ‘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 is at the head of a dreadful company, mounted on a white horse, with a double-edged sword, his robe dipped in blood (Rev. 19)…
No question about it – there is something fierce in the heart of God.”
~From Wild at Heart by John Eldredge
Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’
‘Jesus of Nazareth,’ they replied.
‘I am he,’ Jesus said. (And Judas the traitor was standing there with them.) When Jesus said, ‘I am he,’ they drew back and fell to the ground.
Again he asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’
And they said, ‘Jesus of Nazareth.’
‘I told you that I am he,’ Jesus answered. ‘If you are looking for me, then let these men go.’ (John 18:4-8, emphasis added)
Talk about strength. The sheer force of Jesus’ bold presence knocks the whole posse over. A few years ago a good man gave me a copy of a poem Ezra Pound wrote about Christ, called ‘Ballad of the Goodly Fere.’ It’s become my favorite. Written from the perspective of one of the men who followed Christ, perhaps Simon Zelotes, it’ll make a lot more sense if you know that fere is an Old English word that means mate, or companion.
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 whined 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.
Jesus is no ‘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 is at the head of a dreadful company, mounted on a white horse, with a double-edged sword, his robe dipped in blood (Rev. 19)…
No question about it – there is something fierce in the heart of God.”
~From Wild at Heart by John Eldredge
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