Sermon for Harvest Sunday, 27 October 2024

By Revd George Mwaura

[Bible readings: Psalm 65 and 2 Corinthians 9: 6–15]

Loving God this morning we gather before you with grateful hearts, as we celebrate your harvest blessings. Prepare our hearts and minds to receive your word that will nourish us spiritually.

Amen

On this Harvest Sunday, we gather to give thanks for the abundance of the earth. If you happen to wander the fields right now, the scent of ripe fruits and freshly cut grain fills the air, reminding us of the cycles of nature that sustain us. Yet, as we reap what we have sown, our minds are heavy with the knowledge that our actions are reshaping the very climate that sustains us. In the face of this crisis, how can we honour the biblical call to be good stewards of creation? Psalm 65 paints a breathtaking picture of God’s abundance. The hills are clothed with joy, the valleys decked with grain. The pastures overflow, the flocks frolic and the valleys burst forth with song. This is the world as God intended it, teeming with life, overflowing with blessings. It is a vision of harmony, where every creature thrives in its place.

Yet, we know that human actions threaten to undo this beautiful tapestry of creation. Rising sea temperatures, melting ice caps, and extreme weather events – the signs of climate change are as clear as day. The very abundance we celebrate today is under threat. The hills that once sang with joy, now wither under drought. The valleys that burst with grain now lie under the waters of hurricanes like Catrina, Helene, Milton, Ashley, and others.

In his second letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul writes, Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. These words, written in the context of financial giving, take on a profound new meaning when applied to our care of the earth. We are called to sow seeds of care, of conservation, of restraint. We must till the soil of our own hearts, uprooting the weeds of greed and neglect that have led to this crisis. We must confront the ways in which our usage, our waste, our relentless pursuit of growth has poisoned the very streams from which we drink.

But Paul also reminds us that: God loves a cheerful giver. Our response to climate change cannot be one of despair or guilt, no, no; for that only leads to paralysis. Instead, we are called to a joyful, hopeful action. We plant trees, knowing we may never see their full bloom. We reduce, reuse, recycle, aware that our single actions are just a drop in the ocean. Yet, in faith, every drop matters. Every seed we plant is a vote for a future where the hills still sing with joy, the valleys still burst with grain. It is a vote for a world where my granddaughter Zippy and her children can still know the beauty of an unpolluted sunset, the taste of fresh water and the delight of a snowball fight.

This Harvest, let us renew our covenant with the earth. Let us remember that we are not owners, but tenants of this land. Let us give thanks, not just with our words, but with our lives. Let us plant in faith, in hope, in love. Let us tend the garden of creation with the knowledge that we reap not just for ourselves, but for generations yet to come. Let us harvest the wisdom to care for the earth, as the earth cares for us.

In the shadow of this crisis, we must find reason for hope. Because we’ve had a hand in messing this earth, we must take part in mending it. We can still transition from fossil fuels to clean energy, still restore the forests, still protect the endangered species; still choose simplicity and love. This is the promise of harvest – that even in decay, new life awaits. That even in the darkest season, the light will return. It is the promise of resurrection, of a creation renewed and restored.

So, let us celebrate this Harvest, not just with feasting, but with committing. Let us honour the commitments we made as a church early in the year, not just with words on the Coat of Responsibilities, but with lives that reflect our gratitude. This Harvest Sunday, let us remember – we are the hands of God, the gardeners of the earth, the singers of its song and the sowers of its future. So let us cultivate a world where the hills still sing with joy, and the valleys still burst with grain. For this is the harvest of our God. Church, say with me:

Amen, Amen, thanks be to God! Amen.