Autumn is my favourite time of year. The fields are gathered in, the hedgerows are bursting with berries, and churches are decorated with apples, squashes, wheatsheaves, and jars of homemade jam. In the rhythm of the year, Harvest is one of the most beloved festivals: a moment of thanksgiving, community, and generosity. It is also a chance to pause and remember the story we are part of, and the song we are called to sing as God’s people.
This year in the Methodist Church, we are guided by the theme “Our Story, Our Song.” It is a call to look back at the story of faith that has shaped us, to give thanks for the story God is still writing among us today, and to find our voice in the song of praise, justice, and hope that carries us forward. Harvest could not be a better moment to reflect on this theme.
Every ear of wheat, every apple tree, every jar of chutney tells a story. Food does not appear by magic; it’s the result of sowing and growing, of rain and sunshine, of patient tending, of hands that harvest and carry and bake and share.
Behind every meal lies the story of the land, the farmers, the transporters, the shopkeepers, the cooks. Some of those stories are full of joy: the satisfaction of a good crop, the pride of a baker pulling golden loaves from the oven, the delight of a child biting into a fresh pear. But other stories are harder: drought and flood, unfair wages, hunger and poverty, the loneliness of eating alone.
When we bring our gifts to Harvest festivals, we are gathering up all these stories. We are saying: God, you are the giver of every good thing. We thank you for the abundance of creation. And we remember those whose stories are marked by struggle or scarcity.
The Bible is full of harvest stories. From the manna in the wilderness, to Ruth gleaning in the fields, to Jesus’ parables of sowers, vineyards, and mustard seeds, God’s people have always recognised the deep link between food and faith. These stories remind us that harvest is never just about personal gain: it is about sharing, about care for the stranger, about recognising God’s faithfulness in every season.
If harvest is about story, it is also about song. We sing our gratitude in hymns old and new: “Come, ye thankful people, come” or “For the fruits of all creation.” Music gives us words when our own feel too small; it lifts our hearts and unites our voices.
Singing together at harvest reminds us that faith is not just an individual matter—it is communal. When we sing, we breathe together, we listen to each other, we carry the melody for those who can’t quite reach the notes. In song, we practise what it means to be the Body of Christ: many voices, one harmony.
As Methodists we are a people born in song. Charles Wesley’s hymns carried the gospel across the world; choirs and bands have lifted spirits and brought hope; and even today, in chapels large and small, we find courage and joy as we raise our voices together.
At harvest, our song is one of thanksgiving. But it is also a song of challenge. Our songs call us to action. To share our abundance, to work for justice in the food system, to care for the earth.
The Methodist presidential theme this year invites us to reflect on how our own life stories, and our own voices, fit into God’s great song.
At harvest, we are reminded that our story is connected to the land. Whether we grew up in the countryside or the city, whether we are skilled gardeners or find it hard to keep a houseplant alive, all of us depend daily on God’s creation. This story ties us back to Genesis: humanity formed from the dust of the earth, called to tend and keep the garden.
We are also reminded that our story is bound up with others. When we bring our offering for harvest, or, share a meal at the Harvest Supper, we are weaving our own small story into the larger story of compassion. Our Methodist story has always been one of connection: circuits, societies, fellowships. None of us lives the faith alone.
And finally, we remember that our story is part of God’s song. Each act of generosity, each prayer whispered, each hymn sung, is a note in the music of God’s kingdom. Sometimes we may feel our note is small or faltering. But together, it joins the great harmony of saints and angels, the “song of heaven” that never ceases.
Harvest thanksgiving is not only a time to celebrate—it is also a time to ask hard questions.
How do we treat the earth? Climate change is making harvests less predictable, both here and around the world. Drought, flood, and extreme heat threaten the food security of millions. Our story of faith calls us to care for creation, to live more simply, and to press for justice.
In Britain today, more families than ever depend on foodbanks and food pantries. Around the world, conflicts and inequality mean that children still go to bed without enough to eat. What part can we play in changing that story?
Harvest is a time to review how we give and share. Do we offer our best, or just our spare? Do we treat generosity as a seasonal duty, or a way of life?
These questions may be uncomfortable, but they are also an invitation. For the story of God is always a story of hope, and the song of God is always one of renewal.
As we bring this newsletter to a close, may these words be our prayer:
God of harvest, You are the giver of seed and sun, of rain and earth, of hands that work and hearts that share.
We thank you for the story of your love, written in creation and in our lives.
We thank you for the song of your kingdom, sung by prophets and disciples, echoed in our hymns and in our deeds.
Bless us this Harvest season.
Make us grateful people, make us generous people, make us singing people.
And as we go out into the world, may our story and our song join with yours,
until all creation is gathered in and your kingdom comes.
Amen.
Go well
Karen
This year in the Methodist Church, we are guided by the theme “Our Story, Our Song.” It is a call to look back at the story of faith that has shaped us, to give thanks for the story God is still writing among us today, and to find our voice in the song of praise, justice, and hope that carries us forward. Harvest could not be a better moment to reflect on this theme.
Every ear of wheat, every apple tree, every jar of chutney tells a story. Food does not appear by magic; it’s the result of sowing and growing, of rain and sunshine, of patient tending, of hands that harvest and carry and bake and share.
Behind every meal lies the story of the land, the farmers, the transporters, the shopkeepers, the cooks. Some of those stories are full of joy: the satisfaction of a good crop, the pride of a baker pulling golden loaves from the oven, the delight of a child biting into a fresh pear. But other stories are harder: drought and flood, unfair wages, hunger and poverty, the loneliness of eating alone.
When we bring our gifts to Harvest festivals, we are gathering up all these stories. We are saying: God, you are the giver of every good thing. We thank you for the abundance of creation. And we remember those whose stories are marked by struggle or scarcity.
The Bible is full of harvest stories. From the manna in the wilderness, to Ruth gleaning in the fields, to Jesus’ parables of sowers, vineyards, and mustard seeds, God’s people have always recognised the deep link between food and faith. These stories remind us that harvest is never just about personal gain: it is about sharing, about care for the stranger, about recognising God’s faithfulness in every season.
If harvest is about story, it is also about song. We sing our gratitude in hymns old and new: “Come, ye thankful people, come” or “For the fruits of all creation.” Music gives us words when our own feel too small; it lifts our hearts and unites our voices.
Singing together at harvest reminds us that faith is not just an individual matter—it is communal. When we sing, we breathe together, we listen to each other, we carry the melody for those who can’t quite reach the notes. In song, we practise what it means to be the Body of Christ: many voices, one harmony.
As Methodists we are a people born in song. Charles Wesley’s hymns carried the gospel across the world; choirs and bands have lifted spirits and brought hope; and even today, in chapels large and small, we find courage and joy as we raise our voices together.
At harvest, our song is one of thanksgiving. But it is also a song of challenge. Our songs call us to action. To share our abundance, to work for justice in the food system, to care for the earth.
The Methodist presidential theme this year invites us to reflect on how our own life stories, and our own voices, fit into God’s great song.
At harvest, we are reminded that our story is connected to the land. Whether we grew up in the countryside or the city, whether we are skilled gardeners or find it hard to keep a houseplant alive, all of us depend daily on God’s creation. This story ties us back to Genesis: humanity formed from the dust of the earth, called to tend and keep the garden.
We are also reminded that our story is bound up with others. When we bring our offering for harvest, or, share a meal at the Harvest Supper, we are weaving our own small story into the larger story of compassion. Our Methodist story has always been one of connection: circuits, societies, fellowships. None of us lives the faith alone.
And finally, we remember that our story is part of God’s song. Each act of generosity, each prayer whispered, each hymn sung, is a note in the music of God’s kingdom. Sometimes we may feel our note is small or faltering. But together, it joins the great harmony of saints and angels, the “song of heaven” that never ceases.
Harvest thanksgiving is not only a time to celebrate—it is also a time to ask hard questions.
How do we treat the earth? Climate change is making harvests less predictable, both here and around the world. Drought, flood, and extreme heat threaten the food security of millions. Our story of faith calls us to care for creation, to live more simply, and to press for justice.
In Britain today, more families than ever depend on foodbanks and food pantries. Around the world, conflicts and inequality mean that children still go to bed without enough to eat. What part can we play in changing that story?
Harvest is a time to review how we give and share. Do we offer our best, or just our spare? Do we treat generosity as a seasonal duty, or a way of life?
These questions may be uncomfortable, but they are also an invitation. For the story of God is always a story of hope, and the song of God is always one of renewal.
As we bring this newsletter to a close, may these words be our prayer:
God of harvest, You are the giver of seed and sun, of rain and earth, of hands that work and hearts that share.
We thank you for the story of your love, written in creation and in our lives.
We thank you for the song of your kingdom, sung by prophets and disciples, echoed in our hymns and in our deeds.
Bless us this Harvest season.
Make us grateful people, make us generous people, make us singing people.
And as we go out into the world, may our story and our song join with yours,
until all creation is gathered in and your kingdom comes.
Amen.
Go well
Karen
RSS Feed
