Advent Sermon: If You Don’t Like the Harvest Then . . .

Quick Summary

This Advent reflection explores Matthew 3:1–12 and the call to repentance through the image of planting and harvest. Rather than a harsh demand, repentance is an invitation to turn, reassess, and plant new seeds that lead to a different kind of life. Advent becomes the season not only of waiting for Christ’s birth in Bethlehem, but of making room for Christ to grow within us.

If You Don’t Like the Harvest Then . . .

Matthew 3:1–12

Here’s the sneaky thing—emotionally, Advent feels very different than Lent, doesn’t it? In Lent it seems we take on this somber tone and decide we’re going to change our lives. For forty days, we’re dialed in. And when we come to Advent, it feels… Advent-y. Christmasy. We speak of peace, hope, joy, and love. In Lent we speak of sorrow, remorse, and striving.

Yet they both start the same way: slow down, pay attention, observe your life, and repent.

Repent is a strong word. This time of year, when I open a Christmas card, I’m glad to see words like “rejoice” or “joy to the world” instead of something like, “Hoping you’ll repent soon. Merry Christmas.”

And yet, here we are again. Advent barely starts and John arrives on schedule, knee-deep in the Jordan River, shouting the one word we may not want to hear: repent.

That word feels out of place. We’ve got twinkling lights, concerts, cookies, carols, and cocoa—and John is out here saying, “Slow down. Observe your life. And where necessary, turn around.” It’s the theological equivalent of meeting someone at a Christmas party who immediately asks about your five-year financial plan.

What Repentance Really Is

Maybe John knows something we forget. Repentance isn’t a seasonal project. It’s not a Lent thing or a wilderness thing. It’s a life thing. It’s the honest moment when you pause long enough to look at what your days are producing—the emotional temperature of your home, the way you speak to people, the habits you nurture, the reactions you wish you could take back—and you ask, “Is this the life I want? Is this the harvest I hoped for?”

Repent simply means turn. It means you are not stuck. It means there’s another way forward from here.

That’s actually good news wrapped in one uncomfortable word.

Bearing Fruit Worthy of Repentance

John says, “Bear fruit worthy of repentance.” He uses the language of orchards and fields. You can’t plant one thing and expect something entirely different to grow. You can’t sow thorns and hope for figs.

You can’t hope for friends but never put yourself out there. You can’t hope for strength but never move your body.

Here repentance often gets misunderstood. We’ve loaded it up with guilt and drama. But John is talking about something far more familiar: the moment you look at the harvest and say, “I don’t like this. I want something else.” And then you turn.

If you don’t like the harvest, then plant different seeds.

If you and your partner are arguing a lot, maybe repentance looks like couples counseling. If the harvest looks like debt, maybe it looks like budgeting or seeking advice. If it looks like loneliness, maybe it looks like reaching out and asking someone to meet for coffee or a walk.

Repentance is permission. Permission to plant differently. Permission to believe life can look another way. Permission to trust that God actually meets us in the turning.

Where God Meets Us

If the harvest in your life doesn’t look the way you hoped, you don’t have to keep planting the same seeds. You don’t have to keep repeating the same patterns. You have agency.

Repentance isn’t punishment. It’s possibility. It’s God handing you the keys and saying, “If you don’t like the direction you’re heading, you can turn around.”

And when we seek to make those changes, that is where God meets us.

Two Groups by the River

Multitudes come to John. Among them are the Pharisees and Sadducees—two groups who rarely agree on anything except that John’s influence is growing.

John calls them serpents—hidden danger, poisonous influence. They’re not there for change. They’re there to watch.

His entire ministry is simple: confess, prepare the way, bear fruit. Meanwhile, they lean on rituals and pedigree. “We have Abraham as our ancestor.”

John isn’t fooled. “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Snakes flee from fire. He’s asking, “Are you here for the right reasons—or because your influence feels threatened?”

John levels the ground. Everyone must enter the kingdom the same way: By turning. By being honest. By bearing fruit.

A Different Harvest

There are always two groups: those who come to change and those who come to watch.

John’s urgency isn’t anger. It’s hope. The kingdom is closer than we think—close enough that different choices are possible.

If you want peace, sow peace. If you want joy, sow habits that make room for joy. If you want a heart that looks like Jesus, start with the simplest thing: turn.

Advent isn’t only about preparing for Christ to be born in Bethlehem. It’s about making room for Christ to be born in us—in our habits, our reactions, our desires, our daily sowing.

God doesn’t wait for a perfect harvest. God steps into uneven fields, hard soil, and inconsistent fruit and says, “Let’s work on this together.”

The Invitation

This is why John appears every Advent. Not to shame us, but to free us. Not to condemn us, but to wake us up. Not to scold us, but to announce:

“The One who is coming can make something new out of your life. But you have a part to play—turn. Plant differently. Trust the process.”

If you listen closely, you can hear the invitation behind his sharp words. Jesus repeats it again and again:

“You don’t have to keep living the same story.”

So if you don’t like the harvest… You know what to do.

And Advent is as good a time as any to start planting again.