The readings of the lectionary in the autumnal months are filled with images of the mature, growing fruit of the Spirit, ready for harvest. We are approaching the close of the liturgical year, and we are drawing to the end of the primary harvest season. The community of God in Christ begins to contemplate what it means not only to be harvesters, but harvest.

                These agricultural associations are not arbitrary. The liturgical year and its festivals grow out of the Jewish calendar, which is deeply ingrained in the harvest festivals determined by the natural cycles of the Northern Hemisphere. There is a distinct turning and change at this quarter of the year, and it is reflected in the scriptural readings used in the worship of the Christian community. What shall be harvested from our lives?

                Whether one lives in Lemmon, South Dakota, or La Jolla, California, one sees changes in the spiral of days at this turn of the year. And these seasonal changes are mirrored well in the spiral of our lives. We mark the passages of human life as reflected in the natural seasons, and the church year marks the progression as well. This is the season of rich food, of well-aged wine, of mature life in the Spirit, of expectations, and of completion. Autumn is the season for us to bring in the harvest of Pentecost.

                Just as the leaves turn color in the temperate zones and the sun turns to the south, just as the days turn to sooner twilight and the growth of summer turns to harvest, so in this turning point of the year we are called to turn again to God, to turn our hearts to right relationship, to turn our bitterness to forgiveness, and to turn our lives to justice.

                The season after Pentecost is not a season of right belief, but of right action, right relationship, and a right heart. It is not a season of intellectual purity, but of messy reconciliation. It is not a season of set law, but of paradox. What will be harvested from our lives in the Spirit?

                The magnificent Creator of all makes plain in the scriptures that are read in these "ordinary" days, that God is a God of paradox, whose ways are not our ways. "I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked," God declares to Ezekiel (Ezek. 33:11). Our human inclinations stand in ragged contrast to God's compassion. Even our attempts at compassionate acts can be misdirected: "You shall not be partial to the poor . . . with justice you shall judge your neighbor" (Lev. 19:15). A turning of intention and a turning of expectation are asked of us at this turning of the year.

                The readings for the Sundays during autumn lead us to encounter a God who is generous, complete, forgiving, and just; and who asks us to produce the fruit of the kingdom: righteousness, justice, generosity, forgiveness, compassion, and humility. The gospel stories confront us with the baffling parables of the laborers in the vineyard, and of the king's banquet, and Jesus demonstrates that our thoughts are not God's thoughts--with his challenge to honor God not with words of appeasement, but with actions worthy of the heart of God.

                Autumn is a season of release: the trees release their leaves to nourish the next generation of trees. Plants release their seeds to the wind in order to replenish the earth. First of all God asks us to release fear, setting it free, and unclasping our tight hands. God asks us to release vengefulness, grudges, selfishness, judgments, and tribalism. God asks us to release all clinging to things, ideas, and preconceptions that are unfruitful and to offer up from ourselves compassion, generosity, and just dealings with one another.

                Then we will indeed be as trees planted by streams of water, stretching up into the light, reaching roots deep into the good earth, turning inward for the dormant time. What fruit will the Spirit bring forth from these holy lives? What will we release? What will be harvested?

                At this turning of the year God calls us to turn back, to return, and to turn our hearts so that we may bear fruit of the kingdom. Christ is the first fruit of creation, the first of the harvest. Baptized into Christ's life and death, we too shall bear such fruit. Planted by God, husbanded by Christ, nourished by the Spirit, may we indeed bear the fruits of the kingdom.

Reprinted from Words for Worship, copyright 2004 Augsburg Fortress.

Used by permission of Augsburg Fortress.

last updated: 09/06/2005