Readings

2 Corinthians 9.6–15 – The one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. As it is written, ‘He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor;    his righteousness endures for ever.’ He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.You will be enriched in every way for your great generosity, which will produce thanksgiving to God through us; for the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God. Through the testing of this ministry you glorify God by your obedience to the confession of the gospel of Christ and by the generosity of your sharing with them and with all others, while they long for you and pray for you because of the surpassing grace of God that he has given you. Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!

Luke 12.16–30 – Jesus told the people a parable: ‘The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?” Then he said, “I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God.’ Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them.’

Sermon

Harvest is one of those occasions when a church can look rather different from usual. There may be fruit and vegetables around us, tins and packets brought to be shared, flowers and autumn colours. Things which normally belong in kitchens, gardens, fields and shops suddenly find their way into church. And that is rather appropriate. Because Harvest reminds us that our faith is not separate from ordinary life. God is concerned with bread and soil, rain and sunshine, work and food, with what we have and what we do with it.

Our readings today ask a deceptively simple question: What do we do with what we have been given?

Jesus tells a story about a man who has been given an astonishingly good harvest. His land produces abundantly. So abundantly, in fact, that he has a problem. He hasn’t got enough room for everything. But notice: Jesus doesn’t say that the man has done anything dishonest. He hasn’t stolen his crops. He hasn’t cheated anybody. He has simply had a very successful harvest.

His mistake comes in what happens next. He says to himself: “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?” And then he comes up with the answer. “I will pull down my barns and build larger ones.” Bigger barns. More storage. Keep it all.

If we listen carefully to the way Jesus tells the story, one little word keeps appearing. My. “My crops.” “My barns.” “My grain.” “My goods.” And finally: “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” The whole world has become about the landowner. He has received an abundant harvest, but somewhere along the way he has forgotten that receiving and possessing are not quite the same thing.

Perhaps we can try something together. You don’t need to move anywhere. You don’t need anything in your hands. Just hold your hands out in front of you for a moment. And close them into fists. Hold them tightly. Imagine for a moment that everything you value is in there. Everything you own. Everything you have worked for. Everything you worry about losing.

Hold on. Perhaps squeeze your hands just a little tighter.

It isn’t very comfortable, is it? And, of course, while our hands are closed like this, something else happens. We can’t receive anything either. So now, slowly, open your hands. Just leave them open for a moment. There is quite a difference between a closed hand and an open hand. And perhaps that simple movement tells us something about Harvest.

The Christian understanding of life begins not with clenched fists saying “Mine”, but with open hands saying, “Thank you.” The rich man in Jesus’ story looks at his harvest and sees possession. Harvest invites us to look at what we have and see gift. Our food. Our homes. Our abilities.  Our time. The people who love us. The communities of which we are part. The beauty of creation itself.

Not everything in our lives is easy, of course. Some people come to Harvest carrying considerable worries: about money, about work, about health, about family, about what the coming months will bring. Jesus knows that. That is why, after telling the story of the rich fool, he speaks about worry.

“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear.” Those words can sound almost impossible if we hear them as Jesus simply saying, “Stop worrying.” But I don’t think that is what he is doing.

Jesus points his disciples away from themselves. Look at the ravens. Look at the lilies. Look at the world around you. Remember that you are part of a creation held within the generosity of God. Jesus isn’t pretending that food and clothing don’t matter. Quite the opposite. He knows that we need them. But he asks us not to let anxiety convince us that everything depends upon our ability to accumulate enough, protect enough and control enough.

The man with the barns believes that if he can just store enough away, he will finally be secure. And then God says to him: “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you.” His barns were full. But they couldn’t give him life. That then takes us to our other reading.

Paul is writing to the Christians in Corinth about generosity. He is encouraging them to contribute to a collection for Christians in need. And he writes: “God loves a cheerful giver.” That phrase is sometimes heard as though Christianity is simply telling us that we ought to give more money and smile while doing it! But Paul’s vision is much bigger than that. He describes a movement of generosity.

God gives. We receive. We give. Others receive. We all give thanks. And thanksgiving returns to God. Grace flows outwards. “The one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.”

That is not a promise that if we give away ten pounds God will somehow make sure that twenty pounds appears in our bank account. It is an image of the kind of life God’s generosity makes possible. A life in which we are no longer simply asking, “How much can I keep?” Instead, we begin asking, “What can I share?”

Harvest makes that wonderfully practical. What has been brought into church today will go to people who need it. Something which was sitting in one person’s kitchen cupboard becomes somebody else’s meal. Something we could have kept becomes something we choose to share. And in that very ordinary movement, something of the Kingdom of God becomes visible.

But perhaps Harvest can invite us to think beyond the things we have physically brought today. So, once more, look at your open hands. Think quietly for a moment about something you have received for which you are thankful. It might be something very ordinary. Food on the table. A home. A friendship. Someone who has helped you. Something you are good at. A place you love. Something in creation which brings you joy. You don’t need to say it aloud. Just hold it before God for a moment.

And now, with your hands still open, think of something you could give. Perhaps money or food. But perhaps time. Encouragement. Friendship. Hospitality. Patience. Forgiveness. A skill you could use for somebody else.

That is the movement of Harvest. Receiving with gratitude. Living with trust. Giving with generosity. And those open hands can also remind us of something else. We cannot control everything. We cannot guarantee that nothing difficult will happen. We cannot build barns large enough to protect ourselves from every uncertainty. Eventually, every one of us has to live with open hands. And Jesus says that those open hands need not be empty hands.

“Do not be afraid, little flock,” he says just after the part of Luke’s Gospel we have heard today, “for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

At the heart of Harvest is not simply the generosity of human beings. It is the generosity of God. The God who gives life. The God whose creation feeds us. The God who gives us one another. The God who, as Paul says, has given us an “indescribable gift” in Jesus Christ.

So perhaps the question to carry away from Harvest this year is not simply: What do I have?

Perhaps it is: What have I received — and what might I do with it?

The rich man built bigger barns. The Gospel offers us another way. To receive without imagining that everything belongs to us. To enjoy without needing to possess everything. To face uncertainty without believing that our security depends entirely upon ourselves. And to discover the joy of allowing God’s generosity to pass through our lives into the lives of others.

So, before we finish, perhaps we can make our open hands into a very simple prayer. Keep them open, if you are comfortable doing so.

For everything we have received: Thank you, God.

For everything we worry about: Help us to trust you, God.

For everything we can share: Make us generous, God.

And for this earth, its harvest, its people, and all the gifts of your creation: Thanks be to God.

Amen.