Harvest

They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house,
he began to ask them,
“What were you arguing about on the way?”
But they remained silent.
For they had been discussing among themselves on the way
who was the greatest.
Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them,
“If anyone wishes to be first,
he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”
Taking a child, he placed it in their midst,
and putting his arms around it, he said to them,
“Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me;
and whoever receives me,
receives not me but the One who sent me.”
—Mark 9:30-37

Those who receive the seed receive the harvest,
and with the sowing enter in the feast.
Those who receive the Son receive the Father;
Christ gives to them the Spirit of his peace.

Who plants the acorn will receive the forest
and all the birds that nestle in its shade.
Within the seed there lives the morning chorus,
and with it all the music ever made.

Then if you would receive the risen savior,
receive the child he sends you, in his name,
and as a child receives a parent's caring,
you have no need but in his arms to stay.

For all the world's great love is in your loving,
and each beloved bears the face of God.
Your every good work brings the kingdom coming,
each seed a harvest hidden in the sod.

Acorn By Alias 0591 from the Netherlands – Acorn, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=74284721

The Wheat and the Weeds

There is no god besides you who have the care of all,
that you need show you have not unjustly condemned.
For your might is the source of justice;
your mastery over all things makes you lenient to all.
For you show your might when the perfection of your power is disbelieved;
and in those who know you, you rebuke temerity.
But though you are master of might, you judge with clemency,
and with much lenience you govern us;
for power, whenever you will, attends you.
And you taught your people, by these deeds,
that those who are just must be kind;
and you gave your children good ground for hope
that you would permit repentance for their sins.
Wisdom 12:13, 16-19

The Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time this year pairs the reading above with the parable of the wheat and the weeds (Matthew 13:24-43):

O God, there is no one besides you
who cares for the field of the world—
not for what the harvest provides you,
but for your own promise unfurled.

You soften the earth, soak its furrows;
the rivers of heav'n overrun.
You plow it with hailstones like harrows,
enkindle the heat of the sun.

And all of it springs from your goodness:
You love every seed you have sown.
You'r might is the source of all justice,
your mercy the fruit of your pow'r.

The weeds and the wheat grow together,
and they have good ground for their hope:
You give them all time for repentance
and hold back the scythe while they grow.

But not one can hide from the reaping:
Each one of us shall be cut down
and gathered in sheaves for the keeping,
or into the fire shall be thrown.

O God, let your mercy be on us,
the wheat and the weeds, as we grow.
You made each of us from your goodness:
Then gather us all to your hold. Amen.

Parable of the Sower By Fikos, Attribution, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=55018791

Harvest

They plowed your back in furrows;
they dug into your ground,
that seeds might root and burrow
where mercy most abounds.

Your flesh became a garden,
good earth for fallen seeds;
your body bears a harvest,
riches from wheat and weeds.

The reapers come in season,
set sickle to the grain,
and gather even gleanings,
the gifts of sun and rain:

your goodness and your mercy
that you have poured on us,
the hungry and the thirsty.
We flourish in your dust.

Our gifts are of your growing:
We give them back to you
for milling or for sowing,
what you would have them do.

Then gather us, O Jesus,
who blossom in your soil
as fruit for heaven's feasting,
and let us share your joy.

Wheat Field Behind Saint-Paul Hospital with a Reaper By Vincent van Gogh – Google Art & Culture, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=87105273

Harvest Song

To the tune O SALUTARIS HOSTIA.

Now come the days of longing night;
the year's gold crown is closely shorn
beneath a sky of slanted light
and deeper darkness every morn.

Now come the louder cries for bread
amid the glut of earthly joys:
Some face the winter warm and fed,
and some with nothing but their voice.

Now comes the harvest, comes the feast.
Now come, all you with gifts to spare,
for if your bounty has increased,
you have been given more to share.

Now come, all you in want and pain:
This harvest comes from God's own hand,
who sows and waters every grain
and sends new growth to bless the land.

Now come before him, peoples all;
bring all your gifts and all your needs,
and on your knees before him fall
to praise the Lord of earth and seeds!

Anna Ancher: *Harvesters* (1905) – NAE7GuLXwY1fsA at Google Cultural Institute, zoom level maximum, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29865949

Hosea

Those who sow the wind shall reap the storm;
great injustice springs from tiny seeds.
See how high the bitter wheat has grown:
Shall we 'scape the harvest of our deeds?

Turn, oh Ephraim; turn and take your words.
(Take no gold, for it is stained with blood;
take no victims from your ravaged herds.)
Take yourselves and pledge them to the good.

God who loved you as a mother does,
holding to her cheek a cherished babe,
will restore your goodness as it was
ere you wrought your plowshares into blades.

Turn again your fallow, war-torn fields;
sow good seed that sends a piercing root
down into the heart, and harvest yields
manifold on every rising shoot.

God, who loves you still, will send the rain,
send the sunlight of a glorious day,
gather you as reapers gather grain,
hold you in his loving arms always.