Tim Vasby-Burnie, Shrewsbury

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...