The Sacred Act of Harvest
My car jostled along the dirt road of Ten Hands Vineyard Estates on a chilly mid-October morning. The morning fog had just cleared and left a substantial dew along the grass and vines. My pace quickened at the opportunity to harvest grapes for the first time as I joined the group in the vineyard.
Several people with gardening gloves were already gathered near a collection of empty five gallon buckets, and Tom Petzold, the owner, stood in the center commanding the group like a ship captain. He explained the ins and outs of harvesting as he passed out small clippers.
As he dismissed us, I stood in front of a vine flush with grapes. It was looking lively that morning, but like a farmer slumping into bed after a hard day’s work, it yielded its grapes to harvest with a sigh. The leaves had turned from a vibrant green to a mustard yellow speckled with spots of burgundy, revealing the strain of ripening.
The grape clusters were like a handful of large marbles glowing from the inside out. You could almost see the seeds beneath their translucent leathery yellow skin.
As I set myself to the work of clipping the grapes off the vine one by one, the experience of harvesting was pregnant with so much meaning I couldn’t take it all in. Over the last few weeks, I have been uncovering layer by layer some of the rich symbolism inherent in harvesting in the Kingdom of God.
The Fulfillment of Time
In the Kingdom of God, the harvest represents the consummation of a process that unfolds over time. It is the result of many seasons of God’s faithful cultivation of us and our world that ripens us individually and collectively into who we were created to be.
It’s the long winter spent in silence and solitude as we face our false selves and die to them.
It’s the emergence of new dreams and visions as we awaken to our true selves within.
It’s the risk of vulnerability as we show up in the world in bud break.
It’s the giving and receiving in mutual respect for one another’s gifts to cross-pollinate and set the fruit
And it’s the stress of ripening the fruit we are called to bear in the world that finally yields a fruit worth harvesting.
But - what is the fruit we yield in harvest?
Character:
The reality is, in the Kingdom of God, the harvest isn’t always “out there,” as though we could somehow tangibly measure or collect into baskets the fullness of what God has done. But the harvest is often “in here,” through the overflow of who we are becoming individually and collectively as a beloved community. When we abide in the vine and surrender to the loving cultivation of our vinedresser, we become the visible expression of Christ in the world. When we bear the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, we reveal what he is like.
As Philippians 1:11 MSG puts it, “Live a lover’s life, circumspect and exemplary, a life Jesus will be proud of: bountiful in fruits from the soul, making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God.”
The Expression of Our Unique Design:
If you want to watch the video of me opening the book, click the image ^
The fruit of the harvest is also an outward expression of our unique identity, ripened into love for others. Harvest is the gift of ourselves generously poured out in the other's focused, self-giving dance of belovedness and belonging. The fruit we bear multiplies into eternity, becoming both seed and wine, continually giving and maturing.
When my first book, Making Room in Advent arrived at my house, a devotional with my paintings and writings on Luke 1-2, my husband and I were just about on our way out the door for a date night. It had been left on the doorstep and he noticed it while I was getting ready. As I came out of the bathroom and made my way to the door, I asked, “You ready?”
Steven leaned against the counter trying to suppress a smile as he casually shifted the box towards me and in feigned indifference and said, “Sure, I just thought maybe you might want to open this first.”
I burst out with a scream and yelled, “It’s here!?” and ran towards the box, gripping it in my hands. I set it out on the table on our back porch and frantically cut open the box, my whole body jumping up and down with excitement. And as the box popped open, I quickly grabbed the book, held it in my hands and studied it, running my hand over the embossed cover beaming ear to ear.
There was something so profoundly sacred for me in this moment. It wasn’t just the book itself that made it feel so significant, but it was the fullness of something that had ripened over a decades that made this moment so powerful. Like a vine that grew slowly through various seasons of life, death, and resurrection, deepening roots and surrendering to the cultivation of the vinedresser, I had been on a lengthy journey to get me to this point.
It was the moment in second grade when my teacher commented that I could be an author and illustrator someday. It was thousands of hours spent in the studio or on the page to hone my craft, the countless ugly paintings and crappy first drafts to craft the right sentence or just the right shade of blue. It was the moments of wanting to throw paintings against the wall and the moments of mysterious breakthrough when it would reveal itself.
It was the many years resisting my calling as an artist and trying to blend in and then the courage to finally own it. This book represented so much of who I had become as I yielded to the mysterious and winding progression of the work layer by layer, and word by word. My true self had been unfolding in profound intimacy with God in the creative process, ripening into the work itself.
For me, when I opened the box of Making Room in Advent, I was able to finally hold in my hands and see with my eyes the tangible fruit of this unfolding journey. As I stood there on my back porch, I experienced an embodied encounter of harvest that filled me with overflowing joy that I could not keep to myself.
Sometimes we need palpable moments like this. Moments when we experience the physical culmination of a harvest worth celebrating.
We experience these occasions in all kinds of ways in our lives:
It’s the birth of a child after seasons of infertility or loss.
It’s the acceptance letter to the school you had been preparing to get into.
It’s the celebrations of birthdays and graduations and weddings.
It’s the moment of baptism when your faith is made public.
These celebrations mark not only the moment themselves, but the deeply profound journey leading up to that point. Every stage of our lives, from childhood dreams to moments of surrendered waiting, contributes to the harvest. And when we finally reap it, we can’t wait to share it with our community. Because the harvest is not something that can be experienced in isolation. Harvest, by its nature, is a communal experience of interdependence, joy and celebration, and an expression of God’s justice.
Interdependence
As I looked around during harvest time at Ten Hands Vineyard, I saw a whole community of family members and friends sitting on those five gallon buckets in front of the vines like farmers milking cows. They were delicately, but rapidly clipping clusters of grapes and dropping them into a second five gallon bucket nearby.
There were even several vineyard owners who came to help from other vineyards. Unlike many industries characterized by a spirit of competition, they knew each other’s name and welcomed one another to help. You just knew - they took care of one another. Undoubtedly, when it came harvest time on their vineyards, Tom would be out there with his baseball cap and Carhart jacket, harvesting away.
As they harvested together, they shared tricks of the trade; when they pruned and why, how they treated mildew, and what they did to care for the soil. There is something about harvesting that opens up to the fact that we need each other. Even when we are harvesting the fruits of a journey that was largely taken in solitude, we cannot harvest the fruits of the work God has done within us alone.
Joy and Celebration
The act of harvesting is not only about hard work; it's a time for celebration, laughter, and shared joy. In the Bible, harvest is characterized by uncontainable joy and celebration. Psalm 126 describes how those who sow in tears reap with songs of joy - singing together in celebration of the harvest. Joy thrives in the presence of a community that loves and supports one another. We need one another to take it all in, to harvest the wild complexities of a journey and to glean its wisdom. Sharing in the harvest means we also share freely what we have freely been given. It means choosing to surrender in generosity the abundance we have received from God with others, especially those who are in need.
A Just Harvest
In the Old Testament, the Israelites were commanded to harvest in ways that protected and provided for the most vulnerable. The Mosaic code in Leviticus and Deuteronomy prohibited farmers from harvesting their fields to the very edges to allow the “poor and sojourner” or foreigner to glean and provide for their families.
This command and the Israelites faithfulness to it would reveal what God is like. A God who cares deeply for the care and well-being of all, especially the poor and marginalized. Conversely, when the Israelites failed to live into this call to care for the poor in harvest time, God had strong words:
“It is you who have ruined my vineyard;
the plunder from the poor is in your houses.
What do you mean by crushing my people
and grinding the faces of the poor?”
declares the Lord, the Lord Almighty.”
-Isaiah 3:14-15
Like the Israelites, when we harvest in ways that elevate our own profit, prestige, or power, it leads to the oppression and exploitation of the poor and vulnerable. But, in God’s Kingdom, the way we harvest is just as important, if not more so than the harvest itself.
The harvest is an outpouring of all God’s good and heavenly gifts - tangible and intangible. We are responsible; therefore, with how we steward this abundance in ways that mirror God’s design for the flourishing of all creation. This means we harvest in ways that see the entire farming system as one integrated whole. When one part of creation suffers, the rest of creation is impacted - plants, animals, and humans included. Justice emerges when we know deep down in our bones that we belong to one another and so act accordingly.
The act of harvest is a profound and sacred journey, mirroring our spiritual growth and the qualities of God's kingdom. It is a joyful, communal, and just endeavor that reveals our interconnectedness in the community of creation.
As we engage in the harvest of our lives, may we be mindful of the wisdom it imparts, the joy it brings, and the justice it calls us to. Like ripe grapes on a vine, may we embody the qualities of God's kingdom and offer our lives generously to others, multiplying the fruit of our labor for the glory of God. In this way, the act of harvest becomes not just a seasonal event but a lifelong calling to live out the fullness of God's work within us.
Questions for Reflection:
What is a harvest you are reaping or have reaped recently from God’s work in your life?
How might He be inviting you to share the harvest with others - both in the work of harvesting and in the joy and celebration of it?
Consider the concept of a "just harvest" and how it relates to your actions and decisions in life. How can you ensure that your pursuits and achievements align with God’s vision for the flourishing of all his creation, especially the most vulnerable?,
A Prayer:
Lord of the Harvest,
As we contemplate the concept of harvest in our lives, we thank you for the growth and transformation you've nurtured within us throughout all seasons in our lives. May the fruits we bear reveal your character in the world - your abundant and overflowing love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Help us recognize the interconnectedness of all your creation as we harvest, stewarding the abundance you have provided wisely and justly - toward the flourishing of all.
Amen.
