Though there are a number of self-described churches of the “harvest” out there, as a particular tribe, we Presbyterians are not very likely to cling to the harvest metaphor in scripture for our primary focus. There are a number of reasons for that. The numbers games that some churches play make us uncomfortable. I’m not sure I’ve ever expressed the success of a particular worship service in terms of how many were “saved” for Jesus that day. And we’re hesitant, for the most part with good reason, to use any particular human criteria to determine whether a person is bound for heaven or hell in the afterlife. Inherent in our theology is the understanding that God alone is the righteous judge and the blessed redeemer, so any inclination we have to play either judge or savior must be tainted by our own sinful nature. Ultimately, God is the Harvester, and we make a particular faith claim when we acknowledge our own uncertainty about how much people can rightfully claim to know about how the harvest is going to turn out.

Uncertainty set aside, most of us still have opinions about what God’s final harvest holds in store. Some of us are “narrow road” believers, folks who share the opinion that the Christian way is tough, and only with true righteousness and following God’s Word will the faithful few be admitted to the kingdom. Then there are the “plentiful harvest” believers who share the opinion that God’s mercy will, in the end, redeem even the most sinful lot, and only the very baddest of the bad will experience divine consequences for their actions. Will there be judgment? Or will there be mercy? God’s final answer seems to be “yes” -- to both.

So whether you happen to be a believer in the narrow road or the plentiful harvest approach, there are a few observations I’d like to make from these two particular texts – both in Luke and Galatians – that may help even the most uncertain, skeptical Presbyterian, find some merits in reclaiming this biblical metaphor and perhaps if I’m lucky, may even help you in conversations with the Christian brother or sister who goes to the First, Second or Third Church of the Harvest somewhere down the street.

For one thing, it helps to know that the harvest metaphor in scripture gets stretched to its very limits. It’s common sense really. When you’re in an agricultural community and trying to explain complex sociological and theological themes, you begin with what people know. Someday maybe we’ll write our spiritual manifestos in Internet innuendo, but for now, our Holy Book speaks through the recurring themes of nature and community. Not a bad way to go. And for the most part, with a little interpretive flair, we can still make sense of it.

But we need to know what a “harvest” is to begin to translate. The harvest is the picking of crops hopefully at the peak of their maturity. A similar word “reaping” is used when applied to wheat or other grains. In scripture though, the harvest frequently refers to people and indicates a final judgment of all that one has become over the course of a lifetime. In other literature and common story, we have developed a whole character based on this principle – the “Grim Reaper.” You know the dude with the black cape and indistinguishable facial features, who carries a scythe and points to you when it’s your time to go to the great beyond - That guy.

We have developed a great sense of fear about the reaping and the Reaper. But if God is God of the Harvest, guess what? God is the Reaper. Does it benefit us to tremble in fear? Would we be better off with more scare tactics in our spiritual life to guide us toward our eternal reward? In some ways, it sure would. We’ve lost our awe for who God is by placing our fear on some fictional angel of death right out of the horror movies. You better believe that the harvest is important, urgent, and a critical theme of the Christian message – one that we sometimes would prefer to ignore.

But I also think it’s not as simplistic as some would make it out to be. It’s not just a heaven or hell choice, and it most certainly isn’t about holding a particular political opinion, going to the “right” church, having “better numbers” than the church down the street, or keeping your Sunday attendance up during the vacation months. In scripture, the metaphor goes deeper and cuts to the heart of what it means to be human. The harvest can be applied to individuals, communities, to the “harvest-hands,” to those who reject God, and even to God’s best desires for us as part of God’s creation. Think again about the “harvest” piece. An agricultural harvest is about provisions from the earth, abundance, and having what one needs to survive. A harvest of people is what is provided by the community, by friendships, by trusting God, and by being grateful to God for all that God gives to us.

From Galatians, we get a two-fold approach to this idea of harvest. Verses 7 and 8 are about individuals, verses 9 and 10 about the community. For individuals, the harvest is about reaping what you sow. If you plant selfishness, you get weeds in return. If you plant in response to God, you get a crop of real life, eternal life. Now, we all know that things don’t always turn out rosy for good people, and the reverse is also true, we know awful jerks who seem to have just about everything. But in a spiritual way, in God’s way, we do, individually harvest exactly what we plant in some form or another. Then for the community, Paul requests diligence. “Don’t get fatigued doing good.” For the community, it takes longer. We may be on different paths. You can harvest spring greens way before the corn and tomatoes are ready. In the community of faith, our growing cycles are different. So we choose to work for the benefit of all – beginning in the garden in which we find ourselves. It doesn’t help to start way off somewhere else. Take root where you are planted and make the best of it. Perhaps God put even “those people” in your way for a reason.

Now in Luke, Jesus is describing the work of the “harvest-hands.” The harvest-hands are those people, chosen by God, to be leaders in the communities of the faithful. Very often, the responsibility is placed on them to increase that number of “souls-saved” when we find out it’s really the Spirit working to make salvation possible in the lives of many. However, even the harvest-hands have some principles that they are to follow when sharing the grace of God’s love into ever-widening circles. Showing hospitality is crucially important in preparing for the harvest. The harvest-hands must be “other-focused.” Selfish motives won’t win any converts. Wanting or expecting new people to be just like us won’t add one number to the harvest. If we are to be harvest-hands, we will meet people on their own terms even when it makes us uncomfortable. Jesus reminds them to eat what they are served, to offer peace, and healing, and blessing wherever they are welcomed.

But they also receive instructions for when they are not welcomed. If community is outright refused, they are to acknowledge that the only thing they have received is the dust on their feet, and they are to give it right back. The harvest-hands have a very important role, the same role that agricultural harvest-hands have - the role of discernment. They must determine if the timing is right to yield the best possible fruit. Time can easily be wasted on those who are not yet ready to receive the message of God’s love and grace. Jesus holds nothing back when it comes to judgment. You choose – either mercy and receptivity, or judgment and being closed off. If God’s kingdom is on your doorstep and you can’t see it – woe to you! In the church, we’re often guilty of spinning our wheels here. We cannot make people be a part of the community of faith. They either are, or they aren’t. Jesus says, “Shake the dirt off your sandals.” Let it go. It’s much more important to move on with the triumphal work of the kingdom.