When you walk around a supermarket, or shop online for your weekly groceries, do you ever stop to think about the full agricultural cycle that has occurred in order for you to buy that loaf of bread, or punnet of strawberries? Even if your answer is yes, have you ever considered how this increasing gap between growers and consumers affects our faith? Our ancestors were subsistence farmers and their Judaism was grounded, quite literally, in the precarious process of sowing seeds and then nurturing those crops until harvest time. The interaction between their Judaism and the land was tangible; a year of plenty resulted in prayers of thanks; a year of drought or disaster resulted in supplications of despair. All of these ancient prayers still exist within our liturgy. Likewise, all of the rural religious rules that they adhered to are recorded in the Torah - we will read some of these commandments this week. However, nowadays, when we read about leaving aside the corners of our fields for the poor to glean, we might have a very different interpretation of how that can be fulfilled. Whilst the ethical imperative remains - to share our food and fortune - the palpable distance between bean and cup requires not only a bit of imagination but a mindful approach to reading our liturgy and ethical texts through the lens of our arable past. If all of this interests you, then from next Wednesday, for three weeks, as part of our Learning Hour, I will be exploring the relationship between the beauty of the Psalms and the natural world in which those ancients words were penned. You are very welcome to join me - sign up here. And even if you don’t make it to those sessions, the next time you’re doing your weekly shop, try and pause, if only for a few seconds, and consider how lucky you are to live in a time of such abundance and choice.