Those who know me, know also that I am a huge fan of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, especially "Lord of the Rings." One of the pivotal moments of that book (and movie) is when the Hobbit Frodo is listening quietly to the great and mighty representatives of Middle Earth discuss who should carry the weight of a dangerous quest into the heart of the enemy's territory to destroy the ring of power.
At the end of this long and contentious council, Frodo quietly volunteers: "I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way." It is the kind of quiet heroism that changes everything, not only for the hero, but for all around him.
It reminds me of the choice of Homer's Odysseus, whether to stay comfortably in the realm of Calypso to live in comfort as a god, or to face untold hardship to return to home and hearth. It is in those moments of decision between comfortable existence for self versus sacrifice for the good of others where great heros are defined.
Perhaps these literary decision points awaken in us the heroic impulse because we personally witnessed just such a moment, long ago, before birth, in a pre-mortal council that is now just beyond memory, but described in scripture. In honor of this world-defining moment, I offer the following as text and chorus for heroic lay:
by Mark Fotheringham
Before creation had begun, the Father had a plan
To bless His children with the joy reserved for righteous man.
To bless with bodies and with laws to test their agency,
To prove in trial and faded light, through all adversity,
To show the strength they could achieve if they would choose the right,
The plan would center on the One, Beloved in His sight.
"Here am I. Send me," He said, "And I will do Thy will.
"Though dark and lonesome is the path, I'll go for good or ill."
He trusted that His Father's love, would always with Him be.
To guide Him through the darkest hour. "Here am I. Send me."
When all the children of our God who'd one day come to earth
Were told they could become like God by miracle of birth
And following the Spirit's lead, a shout of joy was raised.
The love of God was manifest. Upon their God they gazed.
He said that One would need to go to suffer for them all,
Atoning for their sins, He'd have to drink the cup of gall.
"Here am I. Send me," He said, "And I will do Thy will.
"Though dark and lonesome is the path, I'll go for good or ill."
He trusted that His Father's love, would always with Him be.
To guide Him through the darkest hour. "Here am I. Send me."
Another plan was given there by one with pleasing voice,
Who sought God's glory and His pow'r, denying gifts of choice.
"I'll save them all," he lied in spite of all from Father heard
About the need to sacrifice and learn to love His Word.
"Whom shall I send?" the Father asked. "How shall these souls be won?"
The eldest of our brothers stood and said, "Thy will be done."
"Here am I. Send me," He said, "And I will do Thy will.
"Though dark and lonesome is the path, I'll go for good or ill."
He trusted that His Father's love, would always with Him be.
To guide Him through the darkest hour. "Here am I. Send me."
I wonder if He understood the task before His face,
To reconcile perfection to a weak and troubled race,
To help all men return to God by suff'ring for their sin
And taking on all pain and grief, their wand'ring souls to win.
Oh yes, I think He knew full well the depth of what would come.
His love and faith were deeper still for each and every one.
"Here am I. Send me," He said, "And I will do Thy will.
"Though dark and lonesome is the path, I'll go for good or ill."
He trusted in His Father's love, e'en in Gethsemene.
Alone He'd face His darkest hour. "Here am I. Send me."
Alone He'd face His darkest hour. "Here am I, Send me."
