I hope my desert island is large, because I
have always wanted to go solo hiking and camping. Hopefully some inner
voice-of-Ray-Mears would help me take a fragment of my wrecked boat, sharpen it
into a machete and then use that to construct a Swiss-Family-Robinson-style
tree-house. Naturally it wouldn’t be long before I wanted to get home to my
wife and daughter. The absence of a church family means that my favourite Bible
verses about the wonder of church, or the power of preaching, would sadly not
be needed.
Which verses would you take
to the desert island?
When
he went ashore Jesus saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because
they were like sheep without a shepherd. Mark 6:34
When
the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Luke
7:13
Once the reality of loneliness and hardship
sank in, I would need verses like these to remind me of the compassion of my
Saviour. Jesus’ mercy towards me is not a duty he has to perform. I love the
truth that his heart is stirred towards me, with gut-wrenching compassion and
mercy. What is more, he does not get fed up or bored of showing me kindness.
Each morning, as the light of the sun drives away darkness, I would probably
sing to myself:
The steadfast
love of the Lord never ceases. His mercy never comes to an end. They are new
every morning, new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness O Lord. Great is
thy faithfulness. Lamentations
3:22-23 as turned into a song by Edith McNeil
This is a song that has been in my mind as
far back as I can remember: in the middle of that great lament, I take great
comfort that God’s mercy is fresh and his faithfulness is constant.
The
priest is to take some of the blood of the guilt offering and put it on the lobe
of the right ear of the one to be cleansed, on the thumb of their right hand
and on the big toe of their right foot. Leviticus 14:14
My next verse is a strange one, but I’m
hoping that it would remind me of the whole context. A verse from
Leviticus would remind me of, and make me thankful for, the people who have
taught me that the Old Testament is all about Jesus. If someone pointed a gun
at me and said, “Preach a sermon now or else you die!” (an unusual threat...)
then my sermon-up-my-sleeve would be Leviticus 13 and 14 – all about skin
diseases. It is a section of God’s Word that always amazes me with the
full-orbed vision of what Jesus my High Priest has done for me. I am unclean
because my being is corrupt and I keep grasping after fleshly glory (Leviticus
13). I didn’t go to Jesus, he came to me – outside the camp, in my place of
exile and death. He has washed me clean, baptised me in his blood, carried away
my sin, made me a new creation, brought me home to his temple, and offered a
“full, perfect and sufficient sacrifice” for me. Then, if that wasn’t enough,
Leviticus 14:14 tells me that I have been anointed by blood and oil (Jesus’
death and the Holy Spirit) to make me part of his royal priesthood. Just
rehearsing this passage in my mind puts a smile on my face. It makes my heart
rise with joy at the overwhelming and comprehensive salvation I have in Jesus!
On
this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all
peoples, a banquet of aged wine—the best of meats and the finest of wines. On
this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet
that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign Lord
will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove his people’s disgrace
from all the earth. The Lord has spoken. Isaiah 25:6-9
Finally, I need a Bible verse about the
future. My congregation know that a theology of food is important to me… So on
my desert island, with rather limited kitchen facilities, I want to remember
the feast that lies ahead. I would take with me as much of Isaiah 25:1-9 as I
can carry. Perhaps I can smuggle in all of verses 6-9. What a future!
What comfort as I remember the what of the future (New Creation
feasting) and the who of the future: my Lord, wiping away my tears with
his nail-scarred hands. Every time I share in the Lord’s Supper I am reminded
it is a taster course for the wedding feast of the Lamb.
Who
would you like to find on the island for company?
Who would I want to share island life with?
Perhaps Athanasius (who understands what life in exile is like) to keep me
centred on Jesus. I imagine he could recite all the Psalms; that would be
helpful. Or Justin Martyr, who knows his Old Testament so well that I can have
all the Bible verses I need! I think I might decide on Luther, though. As well
as beating the gospel into me continually, I hope he could make sausages and
brew beer to make life more enjoyable.
Which
song would you take to the island?
Luther could teach me some of his powerful
hymns – I have a sneaky suspicion that there are lots of amazing Lutheran hymns
that we need to learn. The song I’d bring along may well be Here is love, vast as the ocean but only
if that includes the two mighty verses by Richard Bewes. I’ve chosen it at various
special services in the past (including my wedding, I think), and it would
remind me of the wisdom and support Richard gave my wife and I in recent years.
The music soars as we sing words that make my heart soar:
Here is love vast
as the ocean,
loving kindness as
the flood,
when the Prince of
life, our ransom,
shed for us His
precious blood.
Who His love will
not remember;
who can cease to
sing his praise?
He can never be
forgotten
throughout heaven’s
eternal days.
On the mount of
crucifixion
fountains opened
deep and wide;
through the
floodgates of God’s mercy
flowed a vast and
gracious tide.
Grace and love,
like mighty rivers
poured incessant
from above;
and heaven’s peace
and perfect justice
kissed a guilty
world in love.
Through the years
of human darkness,
shone the lamp the
prophets trimmed,
making known
redemption’s story,
of the love of God
undimmed.
Christ for every
tongue and nation!
All must come
beneath his sway;
his the everlasting
kingdom
that shall never
pass away.
When the stars
shall fall from heaven,
and the sun turn
black as night,
when the skies
recede and vanish,
and the elements
ignite.
Then the Son of Man
in glory,
coming as the
Morning Star,
shall return to
claim his loved ones,
gathered in from
near and far.
Even on my desert island, Jesus is for me.
No matter how far away I am, Christ will gather me. Yes, I think I could sing
that song frequently. Hopefully some more stranded Christians could join us,
and then we could start singing Psalms vigorously in four-part harmony. I’ve
discovered this recently, and it is such an encouragement. O Lord, may this
become a reality in my church family!
So: if my desert island (with tree-house)
had these Bible verses, Luther cooking sausages and four-part Psalm singing, I’m
not sure I would ever want to leave...
