Do Not Worry? Harvest 2021

This sermon was preached at our Harvest Sunday service on 10th October 2021. There has been much talk in the news of petrol shortages, rising fuel costs and existing and protected supply chain issues, causing a sense of fear across the UK. The Gospel that morning was Matthew 6:25-33. Our offering at St Michael's was in aid of Stretford Food Bank,

A farmer slowly enters the field. He surveys the golden stalks of wheat, pristine and gently waving in the breeze before him. Solemnly, he prepares his scythe, and whispers a silent prayer to the god of the harvest. In one swift, practised motion, he swings his blade against the wheat, and then stops.

Carefully he gathers that first cutting and ties it together, his calloused fingers stumbling over the knot, and sets it gently aside. This will be the offering; the bargain that guarantees a good harvest next year – as long as the farmer did everything right in the preparation, that is.

And then, the rest of the harvesting is done. The field is cleared and all the sheaves gathered in – all until the last sheaf, that is. The first cutting was saved for the gods, and this last cutting will be too. But the last cutting is different; it is unlucky to cut this one – for who would want to take the last of the harvest that belongs to the gods? The farmer finds a field-mouse hiding in these last stalks and – literally counting his lucky stars – picks it up. This will work nicely – a life for the wheat. He takes out his knife, and prays again, and swiftly another bargain is completed. The last of the wheat can be harvested. He can only hope he did everything right; the crops – and the life of his family – next year depend upon it. There is much to worry about.

In another place, and another time, a young rabbi walks through a field, gently dragging his hands through the corn, without a care in the world. He is watched, in stunned trepidation by farm-hands slaving away to take in their own master’s harvest, unsure who this man is, or why is his trespassing in their master’s field. The rabbi breaks a stalk of this corn that belongs to someone else, and starts to eat it, turning to the affronted farm-hands; “Do not worry about what you will eat,” he says, “look – look at the birds above us; they are not reaping, but still God feeds them. Are you not worth more than they are? God knows what you need. Serve God. Serve righteousness, and you will have all you need.”

And here we are today – another place and another time again – trying to reconcile all our harvest history, bringing our mixed offerings and modern sacrifices – mixed because our motivations are always mixed. These offerings today are brought with love, of course, but also with a sense of obligation (because this is just what you *do* on Harvest Sunday), and also – perhaps with some thought to what we are able to spare and will not miss; that tin of mixed beans and pulses that has been in the back of the cupboard for at least six months, the soup that used to be a perennial favourite, but none of the children will eat any more, that can of stew we won at the tombola last year, and would never have bought for ourselves in the first place. But – I think if we are honest – for most of us, none of these things are sacrifices in the same way that that farmer in the field all those many years ago sacrificed the first and best of his crops. These are not sacrifices to the same extent as bringing a jerry-can of petrol – something we’ve all genuinely been concerned about recently – would be. By the way; please don’t bring in a can of petrol. I’m pretty sure we’re not insured to be storing litres of highly flammable fuel in the vestry.

But, that’s the thing. This is our Harvest Festival – a time historically when we’d be gathering in the best of our harvest to offer to God and to help our neighbours and community; exactly as an insurance for us all. Jesus tells us not to worry about what to eat, or drink, or what we’ll wear – or, to update it somewhat – not to worry about filling our cars, or paying our rising fuel bills, or stockpiling in the fear that there’ll be no turkey or toys available at Christmas, but – *I* think – if you’re not worried about these things in the current climate, you’re either wealthy enough to not care, or have not been paying any attention to the news (and I say that without judgement as to whether we *should* be paying as much attention to the news as we are!).

How *can* we not worry about these things? Are they not sensible things to worry about?

Were the people in Christ’s time not sensible to worry about what to eat or drink? I think they were.

But – Christ says – you do not need to worry because God will provide.

And I think that’s all well and good in theory, but when theory becomes practise, is it true? Do people around the world *really* not need to worry about what to eat or drink? Do we *really* not need to worry about having enough petrol, and the rising cost of fuel, and empty supermarket shelves?

It is true, as Christ says in our Gospel that worrying does nothing; it does not add a single hour to our lives. In fact, excessive worry probably does the opposite. But *how* does God provide?

Well, I think it’s in days like today. Through us. Through the generosity of God’s people.

People wonder whether miracles actually happen. But I believe they do – I think though, more often than not, miracles are more mundane than we realise. God works his miracles through his people. Whether we realise it or not, our offering today will be a miracle for someone else; a meal they can feed to their children when they otherwise could not; a reason to not worry about what to eat or drink, an example of God’s providence.

And so, I am thankful that God can use us in this way, to bring a miracle to others; to genuinely change somebody else’s world. But – and this needs to be asked – what about you? Are you still worried about putting fuel in your car tomorrow, or having enough in for Christmas? Are you still worried about rising gas and electricity prices? I hope you are not, but we know that many in our community are. 

I think as a church we still have work to do. Harvest does not end today. If God is to provide these things, if we are to help others follow Christ’s commandment to not worry about tomorrow, it will take us – God’s people – to work his mundane miracles. We need to move beyond Harvest Sunday  and become a Harvest Church; a place where people worrying about tomorrow can turn, whether that be in bringing our offerings as we know there is a need, or having the knowledge of available resources to hand so we can quickly direct people to the help that is on offer; foodbanks, fuel poverty charities, credit unions and citizens advice, amongst other valuable groups.

These good gifts around us; they *are* sent from Heaven above; via us, God’s people. But – these are just the first fruits of the Harvest; if we wish to help others follow Christ’s commandment to not worry about tomorrow, now is the time for us to sow, and grow, and reap the rest.

Amen.