Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

These lines from John Keat’s Ode to Autumn captured my imagination in Sri Lanka a long time ago. But the words came alive life during my first autumn in the UK, as I walked through swirling mists to university each day. The foliage turned fiery, and apples swelled in the trees. Here, as I walk down the Lagan towpath, apples are swelling up and fragrant. Bees are tumbling crazily over autumn flowers in our garden. Evenings are drawing in, and mists will soon curl around our windows.

Autumn is my favourite season. We got married in Autumn, and its colours were echoed in the décor and outfits! It’s a time of joy as you see the earth producing its offerings, and there is a gathering of harvests, a making of jams and chutneys.

Today, let me take you to the ancient biblical time of harvest thanksgiving – the Feast of the Tabernacles. A time of joyousness, remembrance and celebration; a festival of music, dancing, feasting, and enjoyment. Over the past few days I searched for music to capture this spirit of celebration and dancing because I like listening to music that resonates with what I am thinking about. And I found this!

The Feast of the Tabernacles was a party! It was the harvest of grapes and olives, held, like Harvest festivals today, in Sept-Oct. But Oh. My. Goodness! Seven days of resting after the harvest, rejoicing for the harvest, and feasting. The Israelites built tents or tabernacles and ate and slept there. In later times, when the temple in Jerusalem was restored, the Feast of Tabernacles was a right blast. They had four 75ft menorahs (candelabras) lit in the temple courtyard, blazing light from the temple into the city. There was all night dancing to flutes by torchlight, and – get this – the holiest people danced! Harvest had the vibe of Lionel Ritchie’s “All night long” – “everybody sing, everybody dance…We’re going to Party, Fiesta, forever… Come on and sing along! All night long (all night)!”

The feast had dawn processions carrying wine and water; there were prayers and processions around the altar with fruit and palms. Blazing light, all night – music and dancing. And much food. An Ancient Glastonbury. Tones of the Belfast Mela or Nottinghill Carnival. Or for those of us who have been there, a Greenbelt atmosphere. These harvest festivals were community celebrations where rich and poor came together to camp, eat and celebrate together.

The Israelites were thankful and joyous at Harvest because this was a time to remember what God had done for them, and who He is.

What had God done for them?

In Deuteronomy, God tells the people, “I have brought you to a good place… “I have given you a good land.” He reminds them of their suffering – because all human life is a mixture of suffering and pain, as well as joyfulness. We hear of their slavery, the arid wilderness, poisonous snakes and scorpions. And we hear how God brought them through that time. Today, at Harvest, we hear God’s words in Deuteronomy to the Israelites and to us: “When you have eaten your fill, built fine houses, when you have prospered… do not forget the Lord.” Do not say, “it is my power and my might” that have gained me this wealth. Remember it is from the Lord. It is He who provides everything – including the food from the earth – we will feel deep harvest gratitude if we believe this.

Secondly, Who is God?

In the Old Testament book of Leviticus (which we didn’t read today) God presents himself as the Landowner. He tells the people, “the land shall not be sold in perpetuity. For the Land is Mine. With me, you are but aliens and tenants!”

This is a truth for all time!

As our actions and lifestyles destroy the earth, creating environmental disasters and hastening climate change, we must remember that the earth is the Lord’s. All land, and all creation within it, is God’s. The earth is not ours to grab, accumulate and misuse. God is the Landowner. We are tenants; God’s stewards who care for the earth.

God’s words – “the Land is Mine” – confront our insatiable desire for ownership and the endless wars for land in our world. They confronts our selfish and accumulative lifestyle in the 21^st century. In St Luke’s gospel we heard of the rich man who reaped a large harvest. He builds buildings to accumulate even more. His future feels secure through the riches he has gathered. But his attitude is far from the God’s intention for the land and the community. The man was, as Jesus points out, storing up treasures for himself, on earth. Not toward God or others.

Yet, in ancient Israel, the people understood that God was the Landowner, and they were tenants. And it brought a flourishing of life. In Leviticus, God also instructs his people to practice the principle of gleaning: those who “own” a field should not take all of the produce, but make provision for the poor and outsider to harvest. It was not a gesture of charity – giving people produce out of pity or compassion. Gleaning was an act of obedience. It was an act of holy living. Because the land belonged to God, the poor and disenfranchised people had the right to harvest the produce of the land. God also instituted the Year of the Jubilee, where property that was lost to debt and poverty would be returned to the owners, and slaves who had bound themselves to labour as repayment would be released.

God’s way of living is one of grace to one another. Why? Because everything ultimately belongs to Him. Nothing is ours. This is so easy to forget. Yet in ancient times this fundamental principle provided security for all and ensured that people thrived. There was no abject poverty of the kind we see around us today. Holy righteousness enabled a sense of well-being – for everyone. It produced gratitude for and celebration of God’s gifts in the harvest they all reaped and all celebrated together.

Today, as we pick our cold fruit and ultra-processed food off supermarket shelves, we are somewhat detached from the joy of harvest. Not many of us labour towards the hope and fulfilment of a harvest. Instead, we now eat things from distant countries where often exploited workers suffer for the price of our cheap food. If people are hungry in our world today, it is because the world does not live by the generous and gracious principles God set out for human life. You could call it sinfulness?

This is not the world that God intended. But we can change it. We can change how we live.

Firstly, Jesus provides an antidote to worry about the future, and the need to accumulate and be secure like the Rich man in the story. Jesus tells us to live free of this anxiety about our futures. To look at the birds and the flowers of the field – and to remember that God knows our needs and is our provider. A life free of worry about tomorrow is a tremendous gift.

Secondly, Jesus calls us to set our hearts on things above. In Luke 12:31 (which we didn’t read), he tells us to seek God’s Kingdom and our needs will be met by God. We should strive for holy living. For instance, we can begin to think about godly principles of living. Like gleaning. We do not harvest, but we can begin to consider how we might enable a fairer world from God’s abundance. For instance, committing to buy ethical or Fairtrade goods that will ensure those who work for us are paid fairly, and like the gleaners of old, have dignity in their labour.

As we celebrate Harvest today – God’s good provision in our lives – we can pause to recognise, afresh, that God is our landowner, and we are his tenants. It will transform our lives and our world.