Sermon 1
A Candle in the Wind
By Father Kevin Bell
There once was a village down on the coast. One weekend some fishermen set
out on a windy Sunday morning, in hope of good fortune. They laboured all day
with their nets and the waves but only with limited success. As the day
progressed the weather turned against them so they decided to head for shore.
But by now it had grown dark and the evening had drawn a black blanket over
everything. They looked to the land but could see no landmarks to guide them
home. They were in real danger of being lost at sea. On the other hand, if they
sailed for the shore in the pitch black, they were in real danger of coming
aground on the rocks. Either way their lives were in peril. The crew were in a
desperate frame of mind. Their small old-fashioned fishing trawler seemed set to
take them to a watery grave or a rocky burial ground. They prayed in their hearts
for help from God but were outwardly silent, like so many men before them.
Suddenly one of the fishermen pointed to the coastline and called out to his
shipmates. “Look up their on top of the cliffs. A light has just come on. That will be
the vicar saying his prayers in the parish church. He never fails, even when nobody
turns up.”
And sure enough the vicar had lit a candle in the Side Chapel, where he said his
daily prayers for his parishioners, every morning and every evening. He did this
even though the wind outside was howling like a banshee. But that candle in the
wind, was enough of a landmark to safely guide the small boat home. It was hard
going against the waves and the storm. But the fishermen drew strength and
comfort from knowing that the vicar was praying for them, as he always did. He
had played his part, and the parish church had played its part. As a result, the
fishermen were able to play their part. And there above the cliffs, the vicar
continued with his prayers, with no idea that his lonely vigil had made such a
difference to men from his parish.
This story about fishermen safely finding their way home symbolises for me that
we are all trying to find our way home. We need a crew of likeminded souls who
are willing to work with us and for us. But we also need landmarks to guide us on
our way. In the moments of darkness, we need light, even a small one will do, just
a candle in the wind, to guide us home.
The Church of England is at its best in my view when it plays its part and quietly
provides light for ordinary people. Especially in moments of darkness, panic and
fear. We Anglicans can make a real difference, simply by playing our part in this
way. Lighting a candle in the wind may seem crazy to other people: too small and
insignificant a gesture. But most of us have lived long enough to realise that very
often the big grand gesture is the very last thing that people need when they are
up against it: far better to receive the small quiet act of kindness than fanfares,
trumpets and symbols. As the old saying goes. “It is better to light a candle than to
curse the darkness.”
Given at All Hallows Twickenham, June 12th 2016: the weekend of our Music Festival, Church
Fete and Inaugural Service for the Friends of All Hallows. Appointed readings for Evensong Psalm
52, Genesis 13 and Mark 4.21-end. Visiting choristers were The City of London University Choir
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The light can show us where to go and how to get there. Or it can simply confirm
that we are already where we are meant to be. I remember from my days in the
army the experience of being on Exercise in Denmark. There were thousands of
us from different nations but mainly British and American troops. It reminded
me in part of rural Norfolk with remote villages hugging the coastline. Suddenly I
could see that the Danes of a thousand years ago must have felt right at home
when they invaded Northern England. I tried everywhere to buy Danish bacon
for the soldiers in my regiment, only to discover that Danes export every last
slice, so there was none to be had. We had to stick with army issue Rations. That
was my experience during the daytime. However, during the night, Denmark
took on a completely different feel. I was suddenly aware that this was a foreign
country with different ways. Everywhere I went, on night manoeuvres, my driver
and I could see homes in the countryside, with no curtains and a candle burning
in the window. I suppose if you live in Scandinavia through all those hours of
darkness, then light in any form, is a precious thing. But there was also a
practical side to this tradition. If your car broke down in the countryside, then
even one candle shinning from a remote farmhouse could show you were to go
and how to get there. It could literally save your life. Whereas the people inside
that farmhouse must have seen that candle in a different way: it confirmed that
they were already where they are meant to be.
So when we light a candle, is it because we feel lost and need to find our way to
safety. Or is it because we need confirmation that we are already home. The
Danish people knew that friends and strangers would see those lights and make
their own minds up. Map reading was never one of my strong points. And I
would be useless as a Sea Captain. But I treated those candles in the distance like
stars in the night sky. I didn’t have to drive noisily through those quiet
communities in order to read their street signs and name places. Instead, I used
my map and plotted my route leap frogging from one candle to another, making
my way through the darkness, until the morning light returned, in all its glory.
In our gospel reading this evening, Jesus says that a Lamp is meant to be placed
on a stand so all can benefit from it. This may seem an obvious point. I suspect he
was getting at the tendency of some, to keep the lamp for their own use. The
Jews in those days thought that their faith was for them and them alone. I am
putting that badly but that was broadly the case. Jesus was saying that God is a
lamp that shines for everyone. And this is the Christian point of view. Imagine
what would happen in Denmark if people had curtains fitted and closed them at
night. No one would find their way in the dark. There would just be people
huddled round their private candles with the cosy feeling that they are were they
are meant to be. Imagine also what would have happened in the story with which
I began. The vicar didn’t need to be so public about his prayers, or what he was
doing and why. The humbler quieter path may seem better for a man of the cloth
in the eyes of most people. But then those fishermen would not have seen his
candle burning quietly: they would have been left in the dark with little hope of
survival. That is why we are here this evening, lighting candles in the darkness
for others to see. And for the rest of the time, during your normal week, you may
well feel like A Candle in the Wind. But you will shine anyway drawing your light
from Christ. And others will find their way because of people, like you…
KB
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