Prelude Chanson de Matin by Edward Elgar
Opening Words by David Usher (adapted)
We come together today, seeking a reality beyond our narrow selves;
that binds us in compassion, love, and understanding to other human beings, and to the interdependent web of all living things.
May our hearts and minds be opened this hour, to the power and the insight that weaves together the scattered threads of our experience, and help us remember the wholeness of which we are part.
We come together to renew our faith in the holiness, the goodness, the beauty of life.
To reaffirm the way of the open mind and the full heart;
to rekindle the flame of memory and hope;
and reclaim the vision of an earth more fair, with all her people one.
Chalice Lighting (you may wish to light a candle in your own home at this point). Words by Yvonne Aburrow
We reap the fields and orchards
We gather in the wheat.
The gleaners at the margins
Look for our gifts.
Share the bounty of the land:
Open heart and open hand.
As we light our chalice flame
So we laud the holy name
of love.
Opening Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love,
be with us as we gather for worship,
each in our own place.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
even though we are physically apart.
Help us to care for each other,
in this world in which Covid has not yet gone away,
and the clouds of war and climate change overshadow us.
May we keep in touch however we can,
and help each other, however we may.
May we be grateful for the freedoms we have
and respect the wishes of others.
May we hold in our hearts all those
who are grieving, lost, alone,
suffering in any way,
Amen
Story: The Unfruitful Tree adapted by Bill Darlison
A farmer had a brother in town who was a gardener, and who possessed a magnificent orchard full of the finest fruit trees, so that his skill and his beautiful trees were famous everywhere.
One day, the farmer went into town to visit his brother, and was astonished at the rows of trees that grew slender and smooth as wax tapers.
‘Look, my brother,’ said the gardener. ‘I will give you an apple tree, the best from my garden, and you, and your children, and your children’s children shall enjoy it.’
Then the gardener called his workmen and ordered them to take up the tree and carry it to his brother’s farm. They did so, and the next morning, the farmer began to wonder where he should plant it. ‘If I plant it on the hill,’ he said to himself, ‘the wind might catch it and shake down the delicious fruit before it is ripe. If I plant it close to the road, passers-by will see it and rob me of its luscious apples. But if I plant it too near the door of my house, my servants or the children may pick the fruit.’
So, after he had thought the matter over, he planted the tree behind his barn, saying to himself, ‘Prying thieves will not think to look for it here.’
But behold, the tree bore neither fruit nor blossoms the first year, nor the second – then the farmer sent for his brother the gardener, and reproached him angrily, saying: ‘You have deceived me, and given me a barren tree instead of a fruitful one. For behold, this is the third year and still it brings forth nothing but leaves!’
The gardener, when he saw where the tree was planted, laughed and said: ‘You have planted the tree where it is exposed to cold winds, and has neither sun nor warmth. How, then, could you expect flowers and fruit? You have planted the tree with a greedy and suspicious heart – how, then, could you expect to reap a rich and generous harvest?’
Alternative Lord’s Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love, here and everywhere,
May we be aware of your presence in our lives.
May our world be blessed.
May our daily needs be met,
And may our shortcomings be forgiven,
As we forgive those of others.
Give us the strength to resist wrong-doing,
The inspiration and guidance to do right,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
We are your hands in the world; help us to grow.
May we have compassion for all living beings,
And receive whatever life brings,
With courage and trust.
Amen
Reading from the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 3, verses 3-8, 13-20
Listen! A sower went out to sow. 4And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. 6And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. 7Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. 8Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.’ 9And he said, ‘Let anyone with ears to hear listen!
Then Jesus explained the meaning of the parable to his disciples:
And he said to them, ‘Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand all the parables? 14The sower sows the word. 15These are the ones on the path where the word is sown: when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them. 16And these are the ones sown on rocky ground: when they hear the word, they immediately receive it with joy. 17But they have no root, and endure only for a while; then, when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away.* 18And others are those sown among the thorns: these are the ones who hear the word, 19but the cares of the world, and the lure of wealth, and the desire for other things come in and choke the word, and it yields nothing. 20And these are the ones sown on the good soil: they hear the word and accept it and bear fruit, thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.’
Prayer by Cliff Reed (adapted)
Spirit of Life and Love,
At this celebration of harvest, we give thanks
For the golden grain we saw in our summer fields,
and for its harvesting.
We give thanks for the fruit of our orchards and vineyards,
for the vegetables that swell in the rich earth,
or grow green in the sunshine and the rain.
We are so blessed, and yet we take it all for granted.
Forgive us.
We hold in our loving thought and prayer the people
of our one world who suffer the devastation
of natural – and not so natural – disaster.
We pray for the lands where the harvest seems one
of hatred and of death; where terrorism, cruelty and
war raise bitter crops of misery and vengeance.
We give thanks for the harvests of earth and spirit.
We pray that all who are denied them now will
soon receive their bounty through the workings of
your love in human hearts like ours.
Amen
Reading Appreciation from 365 Tao: Daily Meditations by Deng Ming-Dao
The sun rose and set today in twelve hours.
We plucked golden pears from arching branches.
Climbing a thousand steps to a rustic temple,
We made our offerings to the gods.
At nightfall, we sat in warm companionship
A crescent moon joined our circle.
Dipping water from the silver-braided stream,
We set it bubbling in an earthenware pot.
It’s not easy to brew good tea,
But this teapot has a venerable history:
A scholar once pawned all his books for it.
Now it imparts the flavour of antiquity.
Harvest time is a chance to reflect upon life. If we have enjoyed a bountiful harvest, we express our thanks. If the year has been difficult so far, then we are happy for what we do have, and resolve to do better once the chance comes. The appreciation of life does not require wealth or plenty. It requires only gratitude for the beauty of the world.
Time of Stillness and Reflection words by Laura Dobson (adapted)
Spirit of Life, Ground of Our Being,
at this harvest-time, we give thanks for the gifts of nature, freely given.
For the abundance and beauty of this earth, we give thanks.
For fertile soils, ripening crops and fruiting hedgerows, we give thanks.
For bracing breezes and misty mornings, we give thanks.
For cool evenings and spectacular sunsets, we give thanks.
For dew glistening on spiders’ webs, we give thanks.
For the sumptuous scent of fallen leaves on damp earth, we give thanks.
For the circling seasons, the dance of light and dark, we give thanks.
For all the gifts of nature, freely given, we give thanks.
For the fruits of love and the gifts of friendship we harvest
here in our beloved community, we give thanks.
For the joys of sharing and growing and flourishing together, we give thanks.
For the promise of harvest that lies in the seed,
the huge oak tree in the tiny acorn, the sweet apple in the bitter pip,
we give thanks.
For all the promise, potentiality and possibilities of our lives, we give thanks.
Spirit of Life, Ground of Our Being,
at this harvest-time, we think of all those around the world who hunger because their harvests have failed.
May we learn to share the harvests of the world fairly and justly.
We think of all those around the world who are fleeing conflict and persecution, who have been forced to abandon their harvests.
May they find sanctuary here.
We think of those close to home who do not know abundance,
who must rely on food banks to feed their families.
May we share our harvest with all those in need.
[silence]
Spirit of Life, Ground of Our Being, may we be like fruit trees –
deep rooted, strong, bountiful –
giving shelter to the lost,
support to the lonely,
and nourishment to the hungry.
Amen
Musical Interlude: Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy
Address The Harvest of Life
Jesus lived in an agricultural community, and often used agricultural metaphors to illustrate his stories. One parable of his in particular has always reminded me of the connection between our actions and their consequences, between what we sow and what we reap, which is a good thing to think about at Harvest time. It is the story of the sower who sows his seed in the Springtime, which appears in all three synoptic gospels. I shared it with you earlier in the service. As we saw, some of the seeds fell on the path, and were eaten by the birds; some fell on rocky ground, and did well initially, but withered because they did not have deep enough roots; some fell among thorns and were choked by them; and some fell on good soil “and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.”
The explanation of this parable is that the different types of soil represent the different “hearts” or receptivity that people have towards God and his word. The first type don’t understand God’s word, and are unreceptive to it, so the evil one (the birds) take the truth away. The second type initially respond to God’s word, but fall away at the first difficulty. The third type, which falls among thorns, represents people whose hearts are choked by the worries and concerns of their daily lives. The fourth type is the individual who hears and understands God’s word, and whose heart then brings forth the fruit of a good life.
I wonder how this parable applies to our lives. We are not first century Jews, but 21st century Unitarians. But Jesus’ words still have a lot to teach us, I think. All of the actions of our lives can be seen as sowing seeds – what happens as a consequence of those actions, what sort of Harvest we reap, depends largely on ourselves. It is a big responsibility, this being human. Or it should be!
The two types of seeds that fascinate me most in Jesus’ parable are the ones which fall on rocky ground, and do well initially, but wither away in the end because they do not have deep enough roots, and the ones which fall among thorns and are choked by them. I believe that both metaphors are very relevant to our modern lives.
Take the seeds who fell on rocky ground. If we translate this metaphor into everyday terms, it could stand for the things that we start without doing our homework first, or without giving the task in question the time and attention it deserves. A problem presents itself, and we cast around for a quick resolution, apply this sticking-plaster patch, and move on to the next thing. Then, to our surprise, the hasty, un-thought-through solution fails, and we are back at the beginning.
Wayne Muller gives a wonderful example of this in his book Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal and Delight in our Busy Lives. He writes: “I have sat on dozens of boards and commissions with many fine, compassionate, and generous people who are so tired, overwhelmed, and overworked that they have neither the time nor the capacity to listen to the deeper voices that speak to the essence of the problems before them. Presented with the intricate and delicate issues of poverty, public health, community well-being, and crime, our impulse, born of weariness, is to rush headlong toward doing anything that will make the problem go away. Maybe then we can finally go home and get some rest. But without the essential nutrients of rest, wisdom, and delight embedded in the problem-solving process itself, the solution we patch together is likely to be an obstacle to genuine relief. … In the soil of the quick fix is the seed of a new problem, because our quiet wisdom is unavailable.”
“In the soil of the quick fix is the seed of a new problem, because our quiet wisdom is unavailable.” I wonder how true that is of us – is this how we approach the issues in our own lives? I know that I am certainly guilty of this at times.
Then, take the example of the seeds who fall among thorns, and are choked by them. For me this is a metaphor that is only too apt for our daily lives, here in the 21st century. There are so many things competing for our time and attention, that it is little wonder that we are tempted by them, away from the important things of life, rest and renewal. Wayne Muller again:
“Much of modern life, of course, is specifically designed to seduce our attention away from this inner place of refuge. When we are in the world with eyes wide open, the seductions are insatiable. Hundreds of channels of cable and satellite television, telephones with multiple lines and call-waiting, so we can talk to more than one person at a time; fax machines; mail, e-mail and overnight mail; billboards; magazines; newspapers; radio. Every stimulus competes for our attention: Buy me. Do me. Watch me. Try me. Drink me. It is as if we have inadvertently stumbled into some horrific wonderland.”
I have spoken to you before about Brighton Unitarian John Naish’s wonderful book Enough. And indeed John himself came to Shrewsbury some years ago, for our Midlands AGM. He writes: “We need to develop a sense of enough. Or, if you fancy, enoughness. Or even enoughism. We have created a culture that has one over-riding message – we do not yet have all we need to be satisfied. The answer, we are told, is to have, see, be and do even more. Always more. But this is bearing strange fruit: levels of stress, depression and burnout are all rising fast, even though we live amid unprecedented abundance. Our planet doesn’t look too happy either.
We urgently need to stop over-stimulating the powerful ancient instincts that make us never satisfied. Instead we must nurture our capacities to appreciate the unprecedented wonders now at our feet. In the Western world we effectively have everything we could possibly need. There is no ‘more’. We have to learn to live ‘post-more’. This isn’t about turning the clocks back or having less. It’s about realising that we’ve arrived … Enoughness is a path to contentment. It’s about personal ecology, about each of us finding our own sustainable balance as individuals. Enoughness is the tipping point, beyond which getting more of anything makes life worse rather than better.”
“Enoughness is the tipping point, beyond which getting more of anything makes life worse rather than better.” I believe that this is the situation of the seeds which fall among the thorns – they are being choked by the seductions and desires of the world around them; small wonder they cannot thrive!
What can we do, to ensure that the seed we sow fall onto good soil and yield a good crop, neither falling onto rocky ground and withering away, nor falling among thorns and being choked by them? What can we do to “nurture our capacities to appreciate the unprecedented wonders now at our feet?” More and more I am coming to believe that the key to leading a good life, in the broadest sense of that term, is to incorporate some time for stillness and reflection into it. Partly this may be achieved by attempting to be mindful about all that we do, by thinking about things before we rush into doing something, or buying the next “must-have” gadget.
As Wayne Muller points out, “All life requires a rhythm of rest. There is a rhythm in our waking activity and the body’s need for sleep. There is a rhythm in the way day dissolves into night, and night into morning. There is a rhythm as the active growth of spring and summer is quieted by the necessary dormancy of [autumn] and winter. There is a tidal rhythm, a deep, eternal conversation between the land and the great sea. In our bodies, the heart perceptibly rests after each life-giving beat; the lungs rest between the exhale and the inhale.
We have lost this essential rhythm. Our culture invariably supposes that action and accomplishment are better than rest, that doing something – anything – is better than doing nothing. Because of our desire to succeed, to meet these ever-growing expectations, we do not rest. Because we do not rest, we lose our way. We miss the compass points that would show us where to go, we bypass the nourishment that would give us succour.”
So, coming back to Jesus’ parable of the sower, the message of it for me is that we have to tend our own gardens, our own hearts carefully. We have to be sure that we are receptive to the presence of the divine in the world; that we are not discouraged by difficulty or apathy from doing the best that we can in our lives; that we try to cultivate an awareness of the divine in our lives, so that we are not distracted by worldly problems and worries from following the best that we know; and that we bring this awareness into our everyday lives.
If we can bear this in mind, not just at Harvest time, but throughout the year, our lives will indeed be fruitful.
May it be so, Amen.
Closing Words
Spirit of Life and Love,
Our time together is drawing to a close.
may we learn to tend the gardens of our souls well,
so that we bring forth a goodly harvest.
May we share the love we feel,
may we look out for each other,
sharing our joys and our sorrows,
and may we keep up our hearts,
being grateful for the many blessings in our lives,
now and in the days to come, Amen
Postlude Romance No. 1 by John Brunning