The images have been graphic––

pictures of countless dead fish floating on the surface;

with estimates that more than two million have died in the lower Daring River…

including endangered Silver Perch and decades-old Murray Cod.

As scientists have pointed out…

a major factor in this mass fish death is the lack of water flowing in the Murray-Darling system.

Much of the fault seems to lie…

in particular…

with New South Wales water authorities…

who…

it is claimed… 

have blatantly over-allocated irrigation licences…

especially to large-scale cotton farms upstream.

These cotton farms have been allowed to take water that had been earmarked––

and, indeed, had been paid for by taxpayers––

for the environmental maintenance of the river system.

Cotton producers account for almost a third of the entire irrigation allocation of the Murray-Darling…

and yet, ninety percent of that cotton crop is exported.

As Senator Rex Patrick––

from the Centre Alliance party––

said,

“We are quite literally sucking the life blood out of the Murray-Darling river system at the expense of downstream food producers, the towns and cities dependant on our rivers for water supply, and the overall environmental health of the river system”.

Now, leaving aside the whole issue of official maladministration…

surely we need to ask:

should we be growing crops––

especially cash-crops like cotton…

or even rice––

that require high levels of irrigation…

in what are, otherwise, semi-arid areas like this?

And yet, there are even bigger questions that need to be asked.

Historically, of course, it’s often been said that Australia rode to prosperity “on the sheep’s back”; 

and we still have this idealised notion of the place of primary production…

both in economic terms…

and in terms of national identity and mythology;

but is that, in fact, an out-dated and unsustainable notion?

 

Sociologically speaking…

we haven’t been an agricultural society for quite some time.

For much of our recent history…

in fact…

we would have been classified as an industrial society…

with manufacturing dominating agriculture.

Indeed, within an industrial society, rapid technological development fuels dramatic social changes––

the sort of changes that we have seen at least since the nineteen sixties.

As an industrial society we became highly urbanised and increasingly secular;

social mobility became increasingly possible…

and social inequalities, on the whole, became less marked.

But, in many respects, even that is no longer the case.

Manufacturing is on the decline––

look no further than what happened with our car industry.

And we have become, what sociologists describe as a “Post-Industrial Society”.

As such, agriculture and manufacturing may remain as vestiges…

but what dominates now is the production of services and information…

especially technological information.

This, they argue, is a consequence of globalisation…

such that agriculture and manufacturing are increasingly devolved to developing…

and less technologically advanced societies…

where production and labour costs are less.

Our primary role…

then… 

is to supply the technology… 

the technological information… 

and the education… 

that the developing agricultural and industrial societies need.

 

And yet, does that not also create problems?

 

We’re becoming increasingly aware of the problems of sweat-shops in developing countries…

which produce our garments and goods;

and the whole issue of modern slavery in supply chains is just coming to the fore;

and more and more of us in the post-industrial West…

are becoming aware of the inherent exploitations…

and the need to pay fair returns––

the need for FairTrade.

Increasingly, we are becoming aware that issues of production and justice go hand-in-hand.

 

Now, it may not be obvious…

but… 

in a round-about sort of way… 

that issue of production and justice lies at the heart of our story from Luke’s Gospel.

Walking through a grain field…

Jesus’ disciples plucked a few heads––

probably of wheat––

rubbed them to dehusk them… 

and then ate them.

They were, of course, quite permitted to do so.

The Hebrew Law stipulated that crops were not to be harvested right to the edge…

so that there would be some left…

which could be picked and used by the poor and destitute…

by the migrants and refugees––

by those who lived hand-to-mouth.

It was a system of production that at least embodied compassion…

if not social justice.

But the disciples came under criticism because they did it on a Sabbath…

and, according to the Hebrew Law…

Israelites were not meant to ‘work’ on the Sabbath.

And the Pharisees regarded what the disciples did as, technically, ‘working’.

And yet, in the relevant sections of the Hebrew Law…

regarding what is forbidden on the Sabbath…

it speaks of harvesting or reaping––

which, of course, involved the use of tools like scythes and sickles.

But there is no mention of ‘plucking’.

Indeed, that was only added later in scribal tradition.

So the Pharisees, in fact, are seeking to impose their particular interpretation.

But it’s more insidious than that.

To extend the definition of harvesting to include plucking is deliberately targeting the poor…

the destitute…

the migrant…

and the refugee.

As people who lived hand-to-mouth…

they didn’t have larders or cellars or barns or stockpiles––

unlike the well-to-do Pharisees.

They weren’t able to prepare their meals for the Sabbath the day before…

so that they didn’t have to ‘work’––

unlike the well-to-do Pharisees.

By deliberately extending their definition of work to include the plucking of grain…

the Pharisees were intentionally targeting the most disadvantaged.

Theirs was a system of production that enshrined injustice.

 

The response of Jesus to these Pharisees is interesting.

He cites a story about David and his men eating holy bread––

bread that only priests were permitted to eat.

But, in his telling of the story, he makes a couple of vital changes.

In the original story, the priests gave it to David.

According to Jesus’ retelling, he took it himself.

And, in Jesus’ retelling, David is said to have done so because they were hungry––

something that isn’t stated in the original.

As such, Jesus clearly understands the issue here to be about hunger and need.

And, having used the story to argue that human need takes precedent over religious tradition…

religious dogma…

or religious precept…

he then makes the provocative statement:

“The Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath”.

In other words, Jesus is claiming the right––

the authority––

to redefine religious tradition and observance as he sees fit…

in order to address human need;

in order to enact compassion and justice;

with the clear implication that…

in so doing…

he was embodying the Spirit’s anointing to proclaim good news to the poor…

and to set free the oppressed…

and thereby fulfil God’s will and intent for humanity and creation.

Production and justice go hand-in-hand––

according to Jesus that’s not just a social imperative…

it’s also a theological or a divine imperative.

 

So, today, as we celebrate Harvest Thanksgiving…

let’s not just remember and be thankful for the food that we eat…

and for the goods that we enjoy;

and let’s not just remember those whose labour produces them…

especially those who are exploited to that end.

Rather, let’s also commit ourselves to doing something about it;

to ensuring that production and justice do, truly, go hand-in-hand;

and that that is a central theological issue for us––

as it was for Jesus.