Sermon by Fr James Heard, 17 March 2019

I had prepared a sermon prior to going on my five day annual retreat but have decided to scrap that sermon and reflect upon one of the things I experienced on retreat. I went to St Beuno’s in North Wales, a Ignatian Jesuit-run spirituality centre. I recommend it to you all. You don’t have to be a priest, but being silent might take getting used to.

My daughter said she would struggle to be silent for five minutes. The only time you speak, apart from the responses in the daily mass, is for about 30 a day with your spiritual director. I had lovely retired RC priest, Fr Anthony.

You aren’t supposed to bring books on retreat because it’s so easy to fill you whole time reading. However, your spiritual director often gives you a short Bible passage to read, a piece of art to look at, or a poem to read. What’s lovely about fully experiencing a poem is that you have to stop whatever else you’re doing and give it your full attention, start to finish.

Fr Anthony gave me to reflect upon was this poem:  ‘THE BRIGHT FIELD’ BY R. S. THOMAS

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realise now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

R. S. Thomas was a rather grumpy priest, and a rather wonderful poet. This poem, The Bright Field speaks about those shining moments in life — moments of grace, beauty, inspiration, epiphany — where we fleetingly encounter the divine or feel a deep connection to the universe.

The image of the bright field evokes for me various ideas: the moment you see your child being born; the moment you realise you’ve fallen in love; when you become transfixed by poem or book, or the moment an incredible piece of music takes you in to the transcendent presence… or, of course, when you pray or meditate, and feel a connection to the divine.

R.S. Thomas reflects how he has often seen the sun “illuminate a small field” for a moment, and continued on his way and “forgotten it”. But that field was “the pearl of great price”; that moment was something rare and beautiful, to stop what you are doing and acknowledge to give thanks, to draw comfort.

He admitting that he has experienced moments of profound connection to God, but that he has proceeded to move on, without dwelling on it. However, he has now come to realise that he must “give all that I have/ To possess” that moment — that “bright field” — again.

The poem then continues. It says that life is not “hurrying on/ to a receding future” or “hankering after/ an imagined past”.

It’s so easy to live your life in the past or thinking and planning for the future, so much so that we are not living in the present. No, life is not “hurrying on/ to a receding future” or “hankering after/ an imagined past”.

These bright moments of grace are in fact moments where we are intensely present. These are the moments we are most alive, and when we feel most connected to life, the universe and God. This is the point of prayer and meditation, and in fact, of coming to church. To stop in our busy lives, to stop looking at screens and emails, to breathe, to be present to ourselves and God.

Learning to be silent for an extended time can feel uncomfortable. And so can prayer, meditation, church. They can feel uncomfortable because we’re not used to stopping. I invite you to morning or evening prayer, to silence before the service tonight, to our weekly meditation on Monday at 6pm. Its where we stop, we breathe, and become present to ourselves and to God.

The poem ends with the beautiful image of the burning bush from the story of Moses. Thomas tells us that life — and these moments — is about “turning/ like Moses to the miracle/ of the lit bush”. Again, there is a real sense of intense presence in this image.

The bright light — which is God, and grace — is described in the final lines is just beautiful: though it had once seemed “as transitory as your youth”, it is in fact “the eternity that awaits you.”

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realise now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

Revd Dr James Heard
Vicar of Holland Park

Parish Office
St George's Church, Aubrey Walk, London, W8 7JH

Tel: 020 3602 9873

www.hollandparkbenefice.org