Harvest!

In all times and all places; for all faiths and all peoples, harvest is a time of thanksgiving: for corn, wheat and barley, for rice, for watermelons, humans have given thanks for the weather, for the soil, for the crops, that have given them the security of food through the winter.

The beginning of farming, around 10,000 years ago, changed human culture. The land itself became sacred as human communities became resident, rather than following the migrations of food sources. Storable food made trade and wealth possible. Being resident, and not having to constantly chase food meant leisure, which gave time for reflection, for the development of art, music and language. And, of course, recorded religion. Adam is told on leaving the garden of Eden that he will toil the land, and his children, Cain and Able, are the archetypes of the arable and dairy farmer respectively. And so begins civilisation.

But farming also puts us at the mercy of the elements, rain and drought, ice and wind; no culture is without its gods of harvest because all who are involved with agriculture understand that we are dependent creatures; that fickle nature can fructify our crops or reduce them to nothing. I don’t know if it’s true but someone told me yesterday they saw crocuses on Putney Common – With this weather, anything is possible.

And it’s necessary to realise every now and again how dependent we are as creatures — Despite our supermarkets, our weather forecasts, out of season vegetables and tinned goods — humankind is always at the mercy of the elements. And when they turn elemental, as in recent storms, fires and earthquakes, the fragility of human life, our dependency, is all too apparent.

But the thankfulness of Harvest doesn’t take the simple attitude of human thanksgiving. Harvest is celebrated every year in good and bad harvests — with great joy, hard toil, or meagre offerings. It’s not thanks that our harvest is better than theirs — or better than last year. We still celebrate harvest despite the hellish wreaking of devastation in other countries. Despite floods here, droughts there. We simply give thanks for what we have, share a little, and pray for the needs of others.

At present the climate is throwing harvest and the idea of seeing divine purpose in it, into disrepute. When I went to Auschwitz a few years ago I saw Eucharistic vessels that had been smuggled in for priests to take forbidden services. Eucharist means ‘thanksgiving’. You might well ask — how do you give thanks in a place like that? Thanksgiving is an attitude.

You can list things your thankful for; you can weigh up and measure whether you’re lucky; compare yourself to the Beckhams, the king, a Libyan widow — This might make you grateful, or bitter — but thankfulness is an attitude that looks at everything in life through the prism of ‘gift’. That we have nothing, hold on to nothing, but we who are alive are daily given inestimable gifts with which to do our best.

My mother calls me Pollyanna — based on some literary figure I have never read. Apparently, she is always optimistic. Years ago, when I was in the army, I was doing a particularly unpleasant training trial called P Company. Less than half those who started finished, many dropping out with broken limbs. Being the only chaplain, I was also fifteen years older than the next man (and they were all men). Halfway through the course, as part of my duties, I went to a 2PARA Reunion Club dinner and I remember talking to a wife who asked me if I thought I’d pass. I genuinely didn’t expect to finish let alone pass it, and said as much. She didn't like my answer and kept pushing me — She took a PMA — positive mental attitude angle — (Perhaps you remember Mr Motivator?) where people think that to achieve things you have to be positive. If I didn’t believe I could pass I never would.
 And I’m certain she went away thinking I’d never do it.

I don’t believe in PMA; optimism is shallow; I’d rather expect the worst than be surprised by it. But I do believe in looking for the good, for the opportunity in every moment and every person. For giving thanks for any victory however small. For trusting that whatever the situation, somewhere there is grace working. Which in the army often took a lot of imagination.

Our epistle reminded us of the need to be patient. That the work of Harvest tells us that the things for which we long are often long hidden from us. That we should not begrudge one another. “Stablish your hearts”! When it comes to faith, there is a great deal hidden from us. The ways of the world are often confusing and hard to reconcile with the loving God we follow. But the way in which we see the world is determined by the attitude we bring to it; And we are much more likely to discover grace, if we begin with an attitude of thanksgiving. As I said, Eucharist means thanksgiving, and it’s no coincidence that in this service the last words before the bread and wine are given to you are thanksgiving and thankful. Your list of thankfulness maybe very long, it may just have one very special thing, but it pays to always remember we are dependent. On nature; on the people around us. And to remember that there are always things to give thanks for and grace to be found. So let us give thanks for what we have, share a little, and pray for the needs of others. Amen.