The Greatest Thing

A sermon preached on Monday 26 May 2025 at Canterbury Cathedral for the Connection at St Martin in the Fields Pilgrimage, by Jolley Gosnold

Reading for address: Matthew 25: 31-40

In 1947, a man called eden ahbez who was sleeping rough in the parks of Los Angeles beneath an L of the Hollywood sign, waited one night outside a theatre where the singer Nat King Cole was playing, with sheet music in hand for song he had written.

ahbez managed to get it into the hands of Coles’s manager before disappearing back to his sleeping bag and his life on the street. And after hearing the song, Cole recorded a version that would go to number one all over the world , and has been covered by many artists since. The song, Nature Boy, was about an enchanted pilgrim who walked very far over land and sea and learned many things along the way.

Over the past four days, we have been pilgrims. We have walked very far, and we have definitely learned many things along the way.

I’ve been so blessed to walk with such a diverse and quietly inspiring group of people. The pilgrim who wore socks and a jumper that were older than me, but outpaced me every step of the way without complaint. The pilgrim my age who bounced along, with more energy than Tigger, and kept morale high. The pilgrims that had done this journey many times, and those for whom each pace was a step into the unknown.

I walked with pilgrims who were refugees and asylum seekers, who knew too well what it is to journey across the world with the hope of a destination in mind.

I walked with people who left their tents by The Strand under the watchful eyes of friends to walk this journey, who couldn’t be blamed for making the most of the memory foam mattress in the Premier Inn on the first night and having a lie in.

I walked with couples and singles, friends and strangers, with at least eleven different nationalities represented in our group of 15-20 people. We were bound together by one truth, we were pilgrims on a journey, companions on the road.

We have all walked together. Our feet have blistered together. Our hearts and our minds have opened together. We have seen each other through the highs and the lows and been there for each other when we’ve really needed it.

In the reading today, Jesus points to those on the edge of themselves and of society, those who are hungry, thirsty, foreign, naked, sick, and prisoners and declares that God is present in each and every person. As we meet them where they are, in their hour of need, when people are struggling and suffering, this is where we will find God. In that interaction. In that giving, in that receiving. In the willingness to reach out a hand and share.

This is a universal truth, one revealed in moment after moment on this pilgrimage.

My feet were blistered, and you strapped them up or offered a plaster.

I ran out of water and you’ve shared what little you have left.

I was hungry and you offered me a protein bar.

I was sleeping on the floor and you offered me an airbed.

My bags were heavy and you carried them ahead in the van.

I was sore and tired and you prepared for me on arrival a bucket of cold water to soak my feet, a hot meal, a welcoming applause.

Every time we reach out to one another in love or open ourselves up to receive the love of others is an encounter with the eternal life of God, where we realise what it means to have life in all its abundance.

From my experiences of ministry with people facing homelessness, it no longer surprises me to discover that the people I’m supposedly walking to support are in fact the people most willing and ready to support me.

As I walked, I spoke with a fellow pilgrim who was always there helping and looking out for others, I asked him if he knew where his care for others came from. He told me he didn’t receive a lot of love as a child, and when he became homeless, his family only made his life harder. He said he learned love on the streets, he had a new family. First, people he could help and serve and love; and then he learned to be loved, to accept help from others, from charities like The Connection or at the International Group.

He now says “if it wasn’t for the love of others I wouldn’t be alive today.”

This pilgrimage is just the beginning. I pray that these four days are the fuel for our pilgrimage of the year to come, but we continue to walk alongside one another with our eyes and hearts open, with God as our route, our companion, and our destination. I pray we continue to see those who are hungry or thirsty, naked or foreign, sick or prisoners and meet them with love, but also that we remain open to receive love from others.

Because we have wandered very far, very far, and eden ahbez, the man who was sleeping rough, taught the world a very important lesson in his song Nature Boy, the same lesson I learn over and over again from every homeless person I have had the pleasure to know, the same lesson we have learned on this pilgrimage:

the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.