The Cyrenian Cycle: Lucius the Centurion - Revision history

Greetje at 20:08, 12 October 2008

2008-10-12T20:08:31Z

Greetje at 20:07, 12 October 2008

2008-10-12T20:07:52Z

Greetje: New page: {{login}}His name was Lucius, second son
By birth, and second to be done
With his Cyrenian home. And he
Was violent, and of the three,
The neighbor children feared him most.
2008-10-12T20:07:18Z

New page: {{login}}His name was Lucius, second son By birth, and second to be done With his Cyrenian home. And he Was violent, and of the three, The neighbor children feared him most.<br...

New page
{{login}}His name was Lucius, second son By birth, and second to be done With his Cyrenian home. And he Was violent, and of the three, The neighbor children feared him most. He dreamed that on the northern coast Of Africa someday, his name Would be remembered like the fame Of Alexander in the East And Julius in the West. The least Annoyance pricked his pride And set him raging, as if tide And wind and waves should heed His beck and call. It wasn't greed, Like Simon's lust, that drove him out Of Africa. It was the clout And sway of military might. It was a burning appetite For all the pleasures of command. "Someday," he said, "I'll lift my hand, And servants will appear. I'll say, ‘Come here,' and they will come. Or, "Stay!" And they will stay. Or, "Go!" And by My warrant they will go, or die." 

Rufina tried to reason with The boy, but everything was myth And make-believe as far as he Could see. Her faith, her piety, Her hope that someday soon the King Of Glory would appear, and bring The boast and arrogance of man Down from its fragile throne, would fan In Lucius all the fires of rage, And neither kindred, love, nor age, Could soften his contempt for her Belief. And so she prayed, "Bestir Yourself, O God of might and all Authority, and show how small Is all the right and mastery Of military life. My plea, O Lord of hosts, is that my son, Before it is too late, will shun Conceit, and see that there is One Whose word, when all is said and done, Will nullify what rulers meant, Or make it serve his own intent."

But even praying seemed in vain, And nothing checked his proud disdain For God. He left his mother and His brother Malchus in the land Of Libya, and set his face For Rome, the center and the base Of all the power on the earth, He thought.

The one who gave him birth Held on, and prayed for twenty years, That God would look upon her tears, And bring the Christ in time. And so She pled, "O God of might, please go, And find my boys where they are lost, And make their paths by his be crossed."

With single-minded zeal, the boy Became a fighting man. "Destroy The enemy," he used to say, "Before they have a chance to pray, Or if they expedite their pleas, Destroy them while they're on their knees." And so from rank to rank he rose, And moved from place to place where foes Of Rome were restless and required A fighting force. All he desired Was coming true. At thirty-four He ruled a hundred men, and swore That he would have a legion in His own command before he'd been In Galilee another year. But then A change began, that no one can Explain except for God.

He had A servant boy, a simple lad, That he had rescued from a raid Of Goth's in Phrygia, and made His own attendant. After years, And, as a blood-bond child endears Himself into a father's heart, So now this boy was like a part Of Lucius' soul, and like a son From his own seed. And there was none, Of all his friends, albeit few, Whom he could love or carry through The fire, except for him. And he Was sick. For years, the rest could see That it was getting worse. He dropped His cup, and needed to be propped Up at the table like a toy. And slowly Lucius' favored boy Was dying. Nor could all the clout Or military might, drive out The deadly enemy. And so, By small degrees, the show And pride of Lucius' life gave way, In search of One whose word could sway The tide and wind, and sickness in His child. And, even though his skin And roots estranged the Jews, he built A synagogue for them, if guilt Might somehow be assuaged, and he Be favored with some remedy That he had never known. In spite Of twenty years spent in the night Of pomp and arrogance, conceit Was broken now, when Jesus feet Brought him to Galilee.

The meek Commander thought, "If I could speak To him, perhaps, from what I've heard, The man could simply speak a word And make my servant well. But what If he should see my skin, and shut His heart against an African?" And so the black Centurion Sent elders from the Jews Whom he had helped, and said, "Please choose Your words with care, and tell him I Myself am present there, and by Your bidding make request that he Might heal my child." And so outside Capernaum the elders tried To win a blessing from the Lord With praise, in hopes he would award Their benefactor with his plea. "I'll come," said he. "And I will see The child, and make him well." But when They neared the house, he sent again A go-between to be his voice, And said, "O Lord, I would rejoice With all my heart if you would heal My precious child, but I appeal That you should simply speak the deed From where you stand, you do not need To come, nor am I worthy. Say The word, and I believe today My servant will be whole. For though I've tasted much of might and show, And known the pleasures of command, And move a hundred with my hand, And watch them go, when I say, ‘Go,' And come, when I say, ‘Come,' I know That I am now beneath the One Who rules the world. It will be done, If you will simply speak the deed. And Jesus said, "The child is freed. Such faith I have not found in all Of Israel. My Father's call Will bring from west and east, And every color, to the feast Of Abraham. And they will eat With Isaac, Jacob in the seat Of kingdom-sons, who will not come. Tell Lucius, not a single crumb Of his plate will be lost."

That night, For once, the soldier didn't fight His tears. He knelt alone beside The Sea of Galilee and cried, Until it seemed that twenty years Of pride poured out through tears Upon the sand. "O God, is there, I pray, a way I can declare What I have seen, so that it would Be heard around the world? And could It be, that even Simon and My brother Malchus, by some grand Design, together sit with me, And with our mother, if it be That she is still alive, and feast With Abraham? I am the least Of all, but O there burns a fire In me, and this is my desire."

Behind him on the beach, the voice Of Jesus startled him, "Rejoice, O dark Centurion, and heed My word. Tomorrow you will read The orders down from Lycias, Your high command. Do not discuss, Obey. The Lord has heard your prayer Tonight, but what you must do there, Will sting. Remember, there is One Whose word, when all is said and done, Will nullify what rulers meant, Or make it serve his own intent."

And on the morrow Lucius read His orders from above. They said, "The tension in Jerusalem Is mounting high, and seems to stem From talk of a Messiah on His way. The governor has drawn His guard in tight, and would complete His reinforcements on the street. Report at once, and take your force, And camp along the water course Beside Gethsemane by night, And make your presence felt by light Along the streets."

And so it came To pass that Lucius was the same Centurion who led the bruised And bloody Lamb of God, accused, Between the court and Calvary, Where Jesus died. And it was he, Who on the way, gave him relief, And put his heavy cross and grief Upon an African; and when He crushed his hand, allowed again, Another man to lift the weight. And it was he who dared to state For everyone to hear: "This man Is innocent, and if you can, Hear this: Though he has felt the rod And spear, he is the Son of God."

And now another candle burns, And there are three, and each concerns A wayward son, a long despair, A sovereign God, a mother's prayer. But still they do not burn as one, Nor does Rufina know each son Has met the King. Or is she yet Alive? And have they only met To go their way, or is there still Some plan perhaps for them to fill Together for the Lord in life, Or possibly in death? Is there More light ? Is there another prayer? There is, if you will pray for me, one more: The answer lies in candle four.