As folk walked into worship this morning, they had to contend with swarms of bees...
Fabulously crafted by the children of the 5 Primary schools in our parish. Massive thanks to the staff and students of Leadhills, Crawford, Abington, Lamington, and Wiston schools for such creative, beautiful and fabulous Harvest decorations.
But why bees?
During the week at our Harvest assemblies we'd been thinking about how important bees are, why they're disappearing, how we can be more bee-friendly... and thinking about the work of the Send a Cow charity, who not only wrangle cattle...
We had fun 'harvesting' words from the word 'harvest' and among other words, discovered the words 'starve' and 'share'.
We wondered about harvest time as useful time of year to remember to be thankful for all we have - not to take things for granted, and about sharing with others who might not have as much as we do.
Some of our schools also brought along food for our local foodbank - so some very thoughtful discussions and actions this week in our schools.
Alongside the fabulous bees, the church was stunningly decorated by our crack team of brilliant volunteers on Saturday afternoon.
of The windows were filled to bursting with flowers and produce, as was the Sanctuary space.
And after worship, we had a simple Harvest lunch ...
so a massive thank you to everyone who helped organise our special Harvest Festival day.
Also, a very good number of food donations for the local foodbank arrived.
What a brilliant group effort.
As to our Harvest service this morning, these were our readings:
Ps 100; Deut 26:1-11; Phil. 4:4-9
There were a couple of reflections...
‘A flavour of harvest’ - featuring Bertie Bott's all-flavour beans...
and
'Send a Cow... or maybe a bee' - a wee recap on the work of one of our favourite charities
The sermon this morning was a story about a young monk called Thomas...
SERMON/ ‘Surprising gifts’
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts,
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
Once upon a time, many hundreds of years ago –
even before I was born...
there lived a young man called Thomas.
Thomas had grown up on a farm, with 9 brothers and 2 sisters.
While there was always plenty of work to do on the farm,
and while he loved helping out, Thomas realised, at a young age,
that he wanted to join a religious order:
he wanted to become a monk.
The family were very pleased, although pretty surprised,
because young Thom didn’t seem to be a very serious-minded kind of chap – he was full of the joys of life:
always getting into silly scrapes,
always telling terrible jokes at dinner,
and always managing to make his family laugh.
Wherever he went, whatever he did, he’d sing.
The more Thomas’ parents thought about him going to a monastery, the more they thought it would be a good thing:
perhaps he’d settle down a little?
They knew he would learn to read,
and they knew he would pray for them...
and, truth be told, with such a big family, well, it was one less mouth to feed.
On the day young Thomas set off to go to the monastery in the town a good day and half's’ walk away,
the family packed a sack of food for his journey,
gave him an extra sack of grain as a gift for the monastery,
gave him many hugs and kisses,
and then waved him on his way.
Thomas was excited and cheerful.
As he walked, he felt the warmth of the sun on his head,
he heard the songs of birds in the trees and high up in the sky,
he thirstily drank from the cool, clear stream that followed the road to town,
his eyes danced with all the spring colours of the countryside around him...
and he thought of a whole bunch of new jokes he could share with the monks.
As he walked he was full of joy and gave thanks to God.
The miles seemed to disappear very quickly
and having slept under a sky full of shining stars,
he arrived at the town the following afternoon,
introduced himself,
and was let into the monastery.
The Abbot welcomed him
and Thomas was put to work here and there,
doing all sorts of odd jobs.
He’d sweep and clear the stables;
he’d help do the monastery washing;
he’d chop wood for the kitchen fire;
and cheerfully do the dishes.
And as he worked, so he would sing –
a happy, cheerful song of thanks to God.
When working alongside other monks he’d tell them jokes,
and there’d be shared laughter, and the work went faster.
Thomas felt that he was in the right place.
One day, taking a wee break,
Thomas was sitting on a bench by the monastery kitchen garden.
Some of the children from the town had become friendly with Thomas,
and they'd come to the monastery to see him.
They sat in the sunshine singing a song that Thomas had taught them.
When the song was done,
Thomas told them some new jokes, and the air filled with laughter.
The Abbot had stopped, unseen by them,
and he watched from a wee distance, then nodded to himself.
But it was time for Thomas to get back to work,
and so the Abbot came across and sent the children away home with a blessing.
He asked how young Thom was getting on
and Thomas told him how happy he was.
All was well.
The Abbot left him to his work.
The months passed, as did both spring and then summer.
Autumn had arrived, and with it,
talk of the great Harvest Thanksgiving festival at which,
each of the monks would give thanks to God and offer a gift.
Brother Francis trained pigeons to carry messages, so he would offer a set of fine pigeons;
Brother Jerome looked after the garden:
he would offer a basket of his prize-winning leeks;
Brother John was a baker – he would bake bread for the feast;
Brother Peter was a calligrapher in the scriptorium:
he planned to give a decorated page with Ps 100 written on it in his beautiful handwriting –
‘God’s word says to rejoice, and so my hands rejoice to write God’s word’ said Peter.
All of the monks had wonderful gifts to give.
Thomas, however, had no clue at all what to give.
He felt he had no particular gift that he could offer.
While all the other monks became more excited,
as the days drew nearer to the feast, Brother Thomas grew sad, very sad indeed.
As the days passed, he grew quieter.
There were no more jokes, and he did his tasks in silence, not with song.
At last the great day arrived...
and young Brother Thomas was thoroughly miserable.
All the others had wonderful gifts to offer to God:
he had nothing.
The service began and all the monks joyfully lined up to process into the huge church,
each bearing the gift they were to offer to God.
All except Brother Thomas, who, as the youngest and newest monk, would be first.
He walked in, with empty hands, and tearful face
until he reached the stairs to the communion table, where the Abbot stood waiting.
A hush filled the crowded church,
as everyone realised that Thom had nothing to offer.
‘Thomas, what is the gift you offer to God?’ asked the Abbot kindly...
‘Sir, I have no gifts at all, and I am so very sad –
for God has given us so much, God has watered the crops
and by his goodness, we have food for the feast.
...I am not worthy to be a monk.'
The Abbot looked at tearful Thomas and with a smile said:
‘Thomas, each of the brothers offer something to God that is special to them –
a God-given gift that only they have.
...Thomas, ever since you’ve been with us, you have given us the gift of laughter
and lightened the burden of our work with your jokes and stories...
you have given us the gift of music
and lightened our hearts with your songs of rejoicing.
That is what you can offer to God.’
Thomas looked at the Abbot, puzzled, and then hope crept into his heart.
He nodded and a shy smile appeared on his face.
‘Lord, I offer you my sense of humour, and these silly, silly jokes...
accept them with my love.’
And then he turned to the congregation with a grin:
‘I am from a farm, so I give you these –
you may groan, or you may laugh, but take them and enjoy:
Why did the cow cross the road?
...To get to the udder side!
Why did the rooster cross the road?
...To prove it wasn't chicken!
Why did the horse cross the road?
...To visit his neighbourhood!
Why did the farmer cross the road?
...To get all of his animals back!’
The congregation groaned, very loudly indeed,
and then, laughter began rippling through the building –
it was silly, simple fun –
God-given fun...
And, if God had made the world then surely, God must have made laughter.
And as they all laughed, Thomas began to sing a simple song of praise:
‘Rejoice in the Lord, always, and again I say rejoice...’
and as he sang, other voices joined in the song –
it was the song he had taught the children,
and their wee high voices could be heard in the laughter...
and the monks began singing –
for it was one of the songs that Thomas would sing as he did chores with them...
and as it was a simple song, so the whole congregation joined in the song of rejoicing.
And so it was, on that day, the day of the great Harvest Thanksgiving,
in the midst of laughter and joy-filled singing,
Thomas learned the greatest lesson of all:
that each one of us is worthy in God’s eyes;
that each one of us is special;
that each one of us has particular gifts and skills;
and that each one of us has something to offer:
to God
and to our neighbour...
And that, friends, is definitely something to give thanks for. Amen.
of 
