Ruth Greenaway-Robbins

“To give thanks in a time of fear is a radical act.
To celebrate God’s abundance in a world that insists there isn’t enough is an act of faith.
It’s to say: we refuse to let fear define us.”

Since arriving as associate Vicar at St Andrew’s here in North London a few weeks ago, I’ve been exploring with the congregation what makes up the heartbeat of a Christian community as we begin getting to know onw another – those deep rhythms that keep us alive in God and connected with one another.

So, far we’ve spoken about being a prayerful community, a compassionate one, a justice-seeking and joyful one. And this week, as we gather to celebrate Harvest, we turn to something that can be harder to hear – the heartbeat of abundance.

Because, let’s be honest – abundance might be far from what many of us are feeling or experiencing right now.
It’s been a particularly heavy week. We’ve watched with horror the attack on the Jewish community in Manchester, and we know that our Jewish neighbours across the country are feeling even more fearful and anxious. The destruction and cruelty in Gaza continues as many of us look on in horror – unable to know what to do. There is just so much suffering in our world that it can feel utterly beyond us.

And closer to home, the language of scarcity fills our headlines.
It feels like everyone is feeling that there isn’t enough of anything – not enough money, housing, safety, or compassion.

Scarcity seeps into us quietly. It makes us cautious. It narrows our vision. It convinces us to hold tightly to what we have, afraid it might run out.

But the Gospel reading for Harvest offers another story.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus says:

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

These are words of abundance – not because Jesus promises we’ll never feel hunger or thirst again, but because he invites us into a life where God’s love is the bread that truly sustains us.
It’s an abundance that begins not in our cupboards or bank accounts, but in the very heart of God.

St Paul, writing to the church in Corinth, echoes this truth:

“And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work.”
(2 Corinthians 9:8)

Paul was writing to a church that was struggling – poor, persecuted, uncertain of its future. Yet he calls them to trust that God’s generosity is enough to sustain their own generosity.
That’s not naïve optimism; it’s faith in action.

Abundance, for Paul, isn’t about accumulation. It’s about flow – God’s love moving through us, not stopping with us.
When we dare to share – our time, friendship, food, prayer – something happens. Scarcity begins to lose its grip. Because abundance isn’t about having more; it’s about recognising what God has already placed among us.

To give thanks in a time of fear is a radical act.
To celebrate God’s abundance in a world that insists there isn’t enough is an act of faith.
It’s to say: we refuse to let fear define us.

And that’s the invitation this Harvest brings – to hold the tension honestly.
We don’t deny the scarcity, the anxiety, or the suffering around us. We name it. We lament it. But we also refuse to let it be the final word.
Because God’s story is not one of scarcity; it is one of grace overflowing.

The feeding of the five thousand, water turned into wine, manna in the wilderness – each story reminds us that God meets us in our hunger and offers enough, and more than enough.

On October 4th we celebrate the feast of St Francis of Assisi. He taught that true abundance begins not with having much, but with trusting that all is gift. He saw in the sun, the earth, even in hardship, the overflowing love of God.
“It is in giving that we receive,” he said — a posture of radical trust. To live out of abundance is to trust that God will give us enough for the next step, even if we don’t see the whole road ahead.

Perhaps the greatest witness we can offer in these uncertain times is to be people who refuse to be ruled by fear – to hold out bread when others close their hands,
to speak words of blessing when others speak words of hate,
to live as though love will not run out.
Because it won’t. God’s love never runs out.

Maybe this Harvest, alongside our offerings of food and gifts, we can also bring our fears, our grief, our weariness – and place them before the God who transforms scarcity into blessing.
Because the abundance of God is not measured by what we have, but by who God is.

As St Paul concludes:

“Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift.”
(2 Corinthians 9:15)

That gift is Christ himself – the Bread of Life, the abundance of God made flesh.
He is here with us still: in word and sacrament, in neighbour and stranger, in the breaking of bread and the sharing of life.

So as we give thanks this Harvest, may we live with abundance.
May we be people whose very lives proclaim:
“Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift.”