Sermon for Evensong

Evensong, 20 March 2022

Preached by Canon Hugh Wright, Vicar of Ventnor


It’s a great pleasure to be with you this evening, as it was last Saturday for Bishop Jonathan’s installation. Bishop Jonathan is my fourth Bishop, since +Timothy Bavin appointed me as Vicar of St John’s Ryde in 1992. Over that period it has been a great – if occasional- pleasure to visit this Cathedral for many occasions, from grand ones like last Saturday to simple Confirmations and Taizé services. These visits have sometimes coincided with moments of sadness or uncertainty in my life, as well as occasions of joy. I’ve always been particularly inspired by the music of the choir, so thank you!

I was initially invited to preach as part of a series on St Thomas Becket 2 years ago, but we all know what happened then! I was looking forward to that, for I was brought up in Canterbury, where my father was a history teacher, and regularly taken to the Cathedral as a child and to the chapel where we were told that the stain on the flagstones was the turbulent priest’s 800 year old blood (an unlikely story, it seemed to me, even then). I still remember the 800th anniversary celebrations of Thomas’ death in 1970, with a performance of Eliot’s ‘Murder in the Cathedral’ inside and the newly devised ‘Son et Lumiere’ outside. Best of all, however were the quiet occasions, such as the midweek services of Evensong, which helped to nurture and encourage my emerging faith. So it’s good to be preaching, 50 + years later, in another Cathedral dedicated to St Thomas.

‘This is none other than the house of God…’

Jacob was on the run. He was in a strange position- a mixture of privilege and banishment. Fresh from a bust-up with his brother in which, with his mother’s help, he’d managed to inveigle his way into receiving his father’s blessing and birth right, cheating his elder brother out of his rights. Not surprisingly, his brother is hopping mad and wants to kill him, so he has to flee, going in the direction of Haran, where his grandfather Abraham lived for a while. We read, ‘He came to a certain place and stayed there for the night.’ As he sleeps he dreams a dream of a ladder to heaven which begins to reveal the implications of his trickery. ‘You may have just thought you were playing a game with your brother’, says God, ‘now, it gets real. With a blessing comes a promise that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back.’

In the morning Jacob awakes in fear and wonder: ‘How awesome is this place, none other than the house of God and the gate to heaven.’ So he calls it that- Beth-el- , setting up a pillar and anointing it, as we do for places of worship. He does return there, after a reconciliation with Esau who is so gracious that Jacob compares his face to that of an angel, and another night-time encounter and struggle with an angel at the Brook Jabbok after which he is re-named Israel, ‘he who struggles with God.’

Angels galore: angels on ladders, angels on faces, wrestling angels. Now let me tell you about another angel featuring in a message left by an unknown visitor to one of my churches- the Old Church at Bonchurch- last year. The message, which is pinned permanently above my desk, reads thus: ‘I’ve come back to say a heartfelt thank you to this church who prayed for me in 2019. It saved my life. An angel came for me and gave me a choice to stay in everlasting unconditional love or, if I had a reason to go back, a doorway. I woke in Intensive Care and fought to live. So thank you, thank you for giving me the chance to see my son grow up.’

The visitor’s note ends with this message: ‘love your life. Be grateful for breath and the chance to experience the wonders around you. Life truly is amazing if we see it with open eyes and open hearts.’

This visitor had brought her struggle to the house of God. The people of God prayed for her, as we always do on Sundays. God answered her prayer and she returned to give thanks. No meeting with a person took place, no expensive project launched, to enable this. Only an empty, and prayer-filled church kept open by a faithful team. This is the parish church in action in its most basic sense. It doesn’t always have to be staffed; sometimes the building can speak by itself. I only hope she didn’t try to visit between March and June 2020, when she would have found a locked door. Please God the church will never again turn its back on people who seek out our church buildings in their hour of need as we did back then.

‘Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.’ Nathaniel didn’t do much to receive this accolade, for he’d just snubbed the person- Jesus- who gave it to him. ‘Nazareth?’ Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Yet Jesus could see something in Nathaniel that no one else could. A true Israelite without deceit could mean many things, but, for me, it refers to Jacob who wouldn’t let the angel go with whom he struggled all night and was so named Israel. Nathaniel was struggling to believe, Philip invited him to ‘come and see’ and Jesus promised him an open doorway to heaven with ‘angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man’ if he followed Him.

Nathaniel was a sceptic and the church too needs to keep its door open to sceptics, however hard that might be. In Ventnor we have a monthly Café service called ‘Come and see’ for all-comers and enquirers, but we are also open throughout the week to people for coffee, or to light candles and shed tears for Ukraine, or, during our annual Fringe festival, to the weirdest and most wonderful range of artistic offerings that push boundaries and ask questions.

‘This is none other than the house of God, the gate of heaven.’ Whatever brought you to this house of God tonight, and whatever door may face you, may you find a way through it, and may you ‘build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung.’ Amen.

Guest Preacher