Newport Minster, Isle of Wight – Farewell Evensong, Sunday 6th September 2009

Readings: Isaiah 35/Mt 6:1-18 

A wilderness and a mountain – these are the two scenes painted by this afternoon’s readings. They are certainly rich in contrasts, but, like two paintings with different subjects, they complement each other in a remarkable way.  

First of all, then, we have the scene of the wilderness sprouting new life, in the prophet Isaiah. The wilderness is a desolate place of testing, where we are deprived of what is familiar, luxuries and all. Reality can break in, sometimes quite sharply, and we are able to see ourselves, our whole way of life, attitudes and all, under the penetrating eye of God himself. The wilderness, after all, is where the People of Israel wandered for forty years. It is where Jesus spent the famous forty days and forty nights coming to grips with who he was and what he was being called to do. We have all had wilderness experiences, and that holds true of whether we’re trying to run a local council, a social services project, a school, a new business – or being part of a local congregation. But it is a place of realism, hope and new life, especially at a time like the present, with constraints of all kinds, financial included, and so it’s a good place to begin. 

From there, we move to what is usually referred to as the Sermon on the Mount. Here is Jesus, the new Moses, teaching the whole human race – not just the paid-up religious faithful - about what this new kingdom of heaven, rooted in the wilderness experience, is supposed to be like. It is not like anything else, because everything about it is the wrong way round, at least from a modern, secular, consumerist point of view, where the pushers and the shovers get their way at the expense of everybody else. For at every turn, we are faced with surprises. It is the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, those who yearn for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted, who really matter. They are ‘blessed’, a special word for Jesus, because it was, and remains, deep in the worship and prayer traditions of Judaism, the faith he was brought up on.  

But what does this really mean? Well, it goes something like this. If the poor in spirit are to inherit the kingdom of heaven, then we must be on guard against those who behave as if they are rich in spirit – the religiously arrogant, who judge others too readily, and divide everyone into first and second class Christians I would like to ban the expression ‘non-Church’ people. If those who ‘mourn’ are to be comforted, strengthened, then we have to watch out against those for whom life is about being personally fulfilled and happy at all times and at all costs – regardless of anyone else, and regardless of their real responsibilities. If the meek are to inherit the earth, then we must be wary about those who live by assertiveness, and who bully others. If those who hunger and thirst after righteousness are to have their spiritual appetites (which should also be ours) filled to overflowing, then we should keep an eye out for those who deliberately oppress the vulnerable and discriminate against those who do not fit into plastic, supposedly progressive stereotypes. If the merciful are themselves to receive mercy, then we need to be ready to identify those who are ruthlessly merciless, as well as traits of mercilessness in ourselves. If the pure in heart are to see God, then we need to beware of those whose hearts have no depth, and who spend their time living on the surface, making rapid, superficial judgements too much of the time in consequence. If the peacemakers are to be called children of God, then we can look out for those who disrupt communities and nations for their own aggressive ends. And if the persecuted are to be blessed, then we should ask questions of those who do the persecuting, whatever form it takes.  

Jesus’ teaching, those ‘beatitudes’ as they’re called, provide both a positive and a negative picture of the life of faith. Put the sobering wilderness experience alongside all that mountain teaching and we can see what kinds of behaviour, what sorts of social and ecclesiastical attitudes and structures, go against his Kingdom. I reckon that the Church of the future is going to have to model its life on the wilderness and the way of the ‘blessed ones’, setting clearer priorities about what this gospel of Christ is really about, rather than getting bogged down in ecclesiastical infighting and territorial defensiveness.  

This week, we have had the chance to look back on three things; the horrors and duplicity that started off the Second World War; the ridiculous muddle of shirked responsibilities played out in the public realm over a convicted murderer sent home to die of a terminal illness; and the international finance politicians actually having to struggle to agree about regulating the banking world after the sheer mess of the past year. Where is that sobering, penetrating teaching of Jesus to be found – and celebrated? The stark choice seems to be between behaving like brutes, whether we are religious or not, and going back with Isaiah to a place of thoughtfulness and reappraisal, before we dare listen to the words of Jesus as they ring out with verve and ever-new resonances through the whole of human history. That Good News is the privilege and delight of any bishop to proclaim on behalf of the whole Church, in season and out of season, and, perhaps I should add, on the Island or off it! 

+ Kenneth Portsmouth