Reno UMC Sermon: 09-13-09

September 13, 2009
Rev. Judith Bither

The Harvest

This summer we have been challenged in our Christian walk to cultivate the Fruit of the Spirit. I hope you know the list by now: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Several weeks our biblical text was from the Letter of James, who was possibly the brother of Jesus. He urged those in the church to be careful how they spoke to and of each other. Instead he urged the followers of Jesus to live the Fruit of the Spirit in the midst of persecution.

Throughout the series we have talked about mixing the soil, fertilizing, planting, replanting, watering and the need for sun for plants….and in our lives! We conclude today by harvesting what we have produced.

Jesus, that master storyteller, used so many rich images here. He often talked about fishing: I will send you out to fish for people. And he referred to bringing more people into the faith as The Harvest. Jesus sent over 70 people out into the villages to share the good news of God’s love. But they were not to stay where they were not welcomed. We can’t grow fruit on rocky soil or when choked out by weeds.

Philip Gulley, a Quaker pastor living in Indiana wrote these words about The Harvest: Officially, summer ends around September 21. The Farmer’s Almanac states the very minute when summer ends and fall begins. It has to do with the position of the sun and the earth. But the almanac doesn’t take into account other, more telling, factors. For me, summer ends when the sunflower stalks in our garden crumple over, the tomato vines whither, and the pumpkins deepen to orange. Some years that happens weeks before the twenty-first day of September, some years weeks after. You don’t need the Farmer’s Almanac to tell when summer is past.

There’s a wonderful harmony to harvest and autumn. The sweet corn dies just as the neighbors tire of our leaving it on their doorstep. Sweet corn has the good sense to know when enough is enough. Zucchini is just the opposite. It is a profoundly stupid vegetable, always wearing out its welcome. One year we planted a row of zucchini and were reduced to leaving sacks of it in the unlocked cars at church. That never happens with sweet corn.

In our home, plucking up what we’ve planted is a treasured time. We can scarcely wait for the first green beans to ripen. My boys sit on the porch swing, the beans between them, and snap them into the kettle at their feet. Joan fries bacon, boils the beans quick, drains the water to get the green taste out, starts over with fresh water, then stirs in the bacon. If green beans had been served at the Last Supper, Judas would never have gotten up to leave, I promise that.

So what are you harvesting in your life these days? Whether or not you actually garden I’m sure you will agree that each plant is a miracle. I once stitched a little wall hanging that read: Who plants a seed beneath the sod and waits to see believes in God. The spark of life, that energy which brings forth life, is of God. It’s an apt metaphor then for God’s kingdom in our world.

So how do we understand harvesting the things of God’s kingdom on earth? How is God most at work in your life and how do you see God in the world? Perhaps it is this life force that is the seed within each one of us.

Certainly we see God’s passion for life at work in the Easter story. New life resurrected from death—this is God’s most fundamental movement and a powerful promise to every one of us. Although we may most often take God for granted, God still draws us into the life we are meant to live.

Recall how you have grown spiritually or emotionally through a tragedy.
Think of how your relationships deepen when the hard work of reconciliation is real and honest.
Reflect on the astounding ability of creation to heal itself in spite of our abuse.
Remember how Jesus rose from the dead, how he was not silenced, as his detractors wanted.
This impulse to live, grow, and thrive is of God.

This is God’s desire for us: that we live fully and bear the fruit of the Spirit. We participate in this work with God, certainly. We fertilize the soil in our own souls, our communities and our world. We have so much to contribute. We tend the tender seeds that God plants in our hearts and souls. We can do so much good when we heed God’s call that is there for us.

Yet, nothing we can do or not do can steal from the seeds impulse to grow and thrive. Resilient, and even sometimes stubborn, we can trust this impulse as God’s gift.

Jesus used parables to communicate what God is like. Today’s gardeners know that the mustard seed is not the smallest, in spite of Jesus’ claim in this metaphor. However, mustard plants can grow quite tall, some as tall as 10 feet. Those of you who know about invasive exotics (also known as weeds!) know that garlic mustard can take over a garden like a bulldozer if given a couple of good seed-producing years. This mustard may not be tall, but it’s vigorous!

That said, a botanist did not spin this metaphor! Jesus used this image of the surprising mustard seed to help explain the Kingdom of God. God’s kingdom starts small, but just wait: in no time, we will be making our home in its branches. Or we’ll be leaving zucchini on our neighbor’s porches!

Imagine what it was really like for those first disciples who were sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening to his stories. The religious momentum of the day was not with them. As a matter of fact, neither was the political momentum. They were a people living under political occupation of the Romans. Military bullying was not unusual. A Jew could be drafted into the service of a Roman soldier at any moment: Here, carry this pack for me…and Jesus said, “Carry it an extra mile.”

They were also a people living under religious occupation. Lest the Romans feel threatened by Jewish solidarity, the Pharisees and other religious leaders who were in charge were careful to keep down the rabble rousers. Though many Jewish laws were in opposition to Roman practice the Pharisees held together a tenuous peace. The Jews could continue to practice their faith, as long as they didn’t get too uppity with the Romans.

They continued to wait for the Messiah, but they didn’t flaunt the liberation edge of that hope. In this context, imagine the relatively few people who had gathered to hear Jesus. Even if there were hundreds, they were not Roman occupiers or local religious leaders. These were, for the most part, people on the edge, who dared to be seen listening to this teacher, Jesus. If his message of love and justice captivated them, could they have been too hopeful with Roman soldiers on every corner?

Could they have been optimistic about their chances when the religious authorities kept things on such a short leash?

And now think about us—you followers of Jesus in the 21^st century. Imagine us hearing of a God who desires that every person to have enough food to eat, to live in peace and safety with adequate housing and affordable healthcare. Then think of the most recent newscast you’ve heard or seen, or today’s headlines. Is such a world just a pipedream?

Not according to God’s will and way. So you may offer a small contribution by donating money or time to our food pantry, helping with Family Promise or challenging the next sexist or racist joke you hear. You may dry the tear of a grieving friend, give time to one of numerous community programs or volunteer around the church. If you are nearly housebound yourself you can send a card, make a phone call and always offer a prayer. The opportunities are endless where we can each add a little bit and make a big difference. Small actions (seeds) add up to something bigger. These are the practical ways we harvest the Fruit of the Spirit.

Gulley ended his story about The Harvest with these words: I relish the harvest—the buckets of tomatoes, the baskets of beans, and especially the pumpkins. Our first summer of gardening, we planted ten mounds of pumpkins. By July they were sprawled throughout the garden, lounging amongst the tomatoes and the beans. Other gardeners stopped by to witness their spread and chuckle, pointing out that it’s customary to give pumpkins an entire patch rather than crowding them between the sunflowers and the beans.

“My wife’s garden”, I pointed out. “She planted it, along with the boys. I was gone when they did it.” Joan shooed them away. “Just wait until fall. They’ll be begging for a pumpkin.”

First the sweet corn petered out. Then the beans and tomatoes. We dried the sunflowers and stored the seeds for the redbirds. The marigolds sputtered to an end. We mercy-killed the zucchini. Then came the pumpkins, elbowing their way across the garden and invading the yard. At first, while mowing the yard, I carefully steered around them. Then, alarmed with their aggressiveness, I set a boundary. No going past the clothesline. Any pumpkin crossing it would be hacked to pieces by my snapper.

By October, 20 pumpkins had survived. I granted them amnesty. The autumn leaves were at their peak, startling in their beauty. The nights were chilly. Bedroom windows, opened since April were closed shut. On Saturday afternoon we got in the truck and drove to my parents’ house with our twenty pumpkins. My sister was there with her three boys. My brother came out from the city. There was a scattering of neighborhood kids. Dad was building a bonfire and Mom was straightening wire hangers to roast hot dogs…and the annual carving of the pumpkins began.

It starts small, Jesus said. Remember that in only a few weeks the smallest seeds will put down roots and grow into surprisingly hardy plants. Even we will find a home in their branches. There will be room and shelter for all.

This is a promise. This is one to trust. It may start small, but just you wait…when we love much, the harvest will be fruitful! For Jesus’ sake and in his name. Amen

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