Song: This Man by Jeremy Camp || Lord of the Rings

A song today… it’s been a while since I’ve posted lyrics, and after a long long long post, I think it’s time for a short one. This song, although simple, is very deep at the same time.

This Man
Jeremy Camp

In only a moment truth was seen
Revealed this mystery
The crown that showed no dignity he wore
And the king was placed for all the world to show disgrace
But only beauty flowed from this place

Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands
Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands

He held the weight of impurity
The Father would not see
The reasons had finally come to be to show
The depth of His grace flowed with every sin erased
He knew that this was why he came

Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands
Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands

And we just don’t know
The blood and water flowed
And in it all He showed
Just how much He cared

And the veil was torn
So we could have this open door
And all these things have finally been complete

Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands
Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands,
from his hands, from his hands, from his hands…

————————————————————–

And here is a great explanation I found for those that consistently get the Lord of the Rings WAY wrong. It always ticks me off as Sam is my favorite character. So eat this:
“Samwise and Frodo Aren’t Gay; yes, I have had that argument many times with my friends. No, they certainly were not gay (J.R.R. Tolkien, a lifelong Catholic, would be shocked that people think so). But there is a quintessentially British class relationship known as “master and man.” It is a relationship that no longer really exists in the modern world, but up to World War II there is a body of literature that depicts the relationship between a hero (usually but not always, upper class) and his faithful servant (usually, but not always, lower class). It was assumed that the lower classes were ignorant of, and possibly immune to, the “finer feelings,” and that it was the duty of the upper class to provide examples for them to live up to. And it was the duty of the lower classes to demonstrate loyalty and provide a practical grounding for the hero. After all, you can’t expect a hero to slay the dragon and also polish his own sword or think about such mundane matters as tonight’s dinner. That’s what the faithful servant was for.

Later, between World War I and World War II, this was twisted into the comedy routine of the bumbling upper-class twit and the (much smarter) servant. See Jeeves & Wooster or more recently Spamalot, with its hilarious number “I’m All Alone,” sung by King Arthur as his servant visibly wonders, “What am I, chopped liver?” Arthur, of course, means that there is no one of his own social rank present to share and understand his (upper-class, kingly) feelings. In a class-based society, this counts as “alone,” even if there are a hundred servants standing around.

Anyway, to return to the point, the relationship of “master and man” is not a gay one … it is simply two people who would be best friends, if it were not for the limitations of their different classes.

And it is a symptom of our modern-day cynicism that we can’t see deep friendship and respect between any two people without assuming that sex is involved.

Jessica S. Lucens
http://www.scifi.com