Reflection #130 (27th September 2026 at Essex Church / Kensington Unitarians)
The harvest festival is meant to be a time of thanksgiving. Once a year, we are reminded to pay special attention to our where our food comes from, and all the stars that have to align in order for even the simplest meal to turn up on our plate.
For those of us who are reasonably well-off – in global terms, at least – and I’m not making the assumption that we’re all that comfortable as I know times are tough for so many right now – but still many of us take it for granted that we can put food on the table tonight. Indeed, that we will have some choice in the matter.
The traditions around the harvest festival are supposed to shake us up a bit. To wake us up to everything that’s involved in feeding the currently 8.3 billion people on earth. Considering the food supply chain – and all the many things that can disrupt it – gives us a lesson in our interdependence. We are dependent on human factors: the people who grow crops, then dig them up, pick them off, or cut them down; the people who pack and transport them, prepare them and sell them; the people who cook them and serve them up. We are dependent on weather and climate: not too hot, not too cold; not too wet, not too dry; just the right amount of rain at the right time; and enough sunshine to photosynthesise and ripen. We are dependent on the bees and other insects to pollinate (75% of crops depend on animal pollinators). And we’re competing with so many other life-forms who also want to eat our fruit and veg: beetles and weevils, slugs and caterpillars, birds and rodents, mildew and blight.
Our food supply is more fragile than we might like to acknowledge, given that our lives depend on it – perhaps we’re beginning to face up to that a bit more now – given that in the last decade we’ve witnessed the significant impact of global events (such as the pandemic, Brexit, the war in Ukraine, and Trump’s tariffs) on prices and availability. And given the summer we’ve had, and the El Niño that’s on the way, the impact of climate change on our lives (and our capacity to feed ourselves) is becoming ever-clearer.
Harvest, as well as being a festival of thanksgiving, is a time for taking stock. It reminds us to be grateful for what we have – in this moment – and not to take it for granted. To be aware of where we are situated among the haves and have nots. To do what we can to help ensure life on this planet is liveable – and ever more equitable and just – so that everybody gets their fair share of the earth’s abundant goodness. And it reminds us to stay in touch with what is nourishing and good throughout all of life’s seasons.
In that spirit, I invite you now to join in with the responsive reading in the middle of your hymn sheet – the words will also be on screen – the responses are printed in bold.
In this season of harvest, let us give thanks
for all the good gifts we have been given.
From the basic material needs of life
on which our very existence depends
– good food, fresh water, clean air, safe shelter, and rest –
to the rich social and cultural nourishment
which supports our full flourishing.
For all the gifts of life that come our way, we give thanks.
For the pleasure of delicious food.
The preparation and anticipation
– the sensory delights of smell, texture, and taste –
salt, spice, sour, savoury, sweet.
For the daily pleasures of cooking and eating, we give thanks.
For the sacrifice of the plants, animals, and fungi
– once-living beings who become part of the food chain –
whose nutrients become the building blocks of our own bodies,
their life force given up so that we, in turn, might live.
For the living beings that become our food, we give thanks.
For all the diverse flavours and cultures of the world
– recipes dreamed up, tested, and handed down the generations –
which offer familiarity and comfort, and connect us to our heritage.
For all the seeds saved, varieties cultivated, rare breeds preserved.
For the culinary traditions we have inherited, we give thanks.
For the labour involved in ensuring our access to safe and nutritious meals
– a network of farmers and growers, pickers and processors,
scientists and regulators, distributors and sellers –
an immense effort to provide sustenance.
For all who work to fill our store cupboards, we give thanks.
For those who organise to provide for those who aren’t so fortunate
– running food banks, aid programmes, and welfare systems
to redistribute supplies to those who are going hungry –
and who fight for justice so that the harvest is shared more fairly.
For all who strive to ensure that everybody is properly fed, we give thanks.
For all who take action for climate justice and biodiversity,
knowing that our very survival as a species depends on
good growing conditions, and safe and stable places
for all to live, in the interdependent web of life.
For the environmental activists fighting to save us all, we give thanks.
For the mystery of life itself, and our good fortune
to find ourselves existing on this beautiful planet
– alive, awake, and aware of its preciousness and precarity –
may we never take this fleeting gift for granted.
In this season of harvest, let us give thanks
for all the good gifts we have been given. Amen.
Reflection by Jane Blackall