Over the years, two harvest hymns gradually became my favorites. In the Baptist church I was compelled to attend every Sunday for my first eighteen years, these hymns and a few others came up in the rotation every November. When golden autumn leaves began to fall and corn turned tan and dry, these hymns would ring out across the hard pews from our ancient organist on the big Allen organ.
There were hymn characteristics that I came to associate with certain times of the year. Harvest and Thanksgiving hymns were in minor keys, reminding me of the approaching winter, corn in shocks, and pumpkins. Christmas hymns were sad, too, reminding us of poor people traveling to be taxed, towns so full of people that it was necessary to sleep in stables, and harsh Roman rule. In the springtime, hymns written in major keys celebrated the crucifixion and resurrection in sync with the glories of spring. There were even patriotic hymns for Memorial Day and the Fourth of July.
President Lincoln who issued the first official Thanksgiving Proclamation in 1863
As Thanksgiving drew nigh we were often reminded that it was President Lincoln who issued the first official Thanksgiving Proclamation in 1863. Believe me, there was precious little to be thankful for in the Heartland on that Thanksgiving on November 26. In the middle of the American Civil War it was already a bleak time for so many families across the country. A popular song titled The Vacant Chair spoke the sorrow felt over another awful year that seemed to have settled nothing. There was no end of the war in sight. For another year and a half the bloodletting and misery continued. Even in the morass Lincoln sought to rally the country to gratitude to the Almighty. Lincoln still rated as a great leader back in those days only a century after the Civil War had ended.
The Vacant Chair with lyrics
We must protect the harvest to be able to survive through the coming storms
I grew up in an Anglo-American culture. Our schoolbooks and holidays came from Boston, so Pilgrims and Puritans and Thanksgiving were highlights of the year. Winters were cold where I grew up, in Boston, in England, and in northern Europe, so there was a tradition of music written for the seasons. Our patriot ancestors handed down their music and their traditions.
In our church I began to look forward to Come, Ye Thankful People, Come, and We Gather Together each year. The first one focused on giving thanks for the harvest. “All is safely gathered in, ‘ere the winter storms begin.” We must protect the harvest to be able to survive through the coming storms. “Come, ye thankful people, come, raise the song of harvest home.” It has beautiful, wistful harmonies. Here’s how I remember it.
Come, Ye Thankful People, Come
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Tradition of family gatherings
Even better was We Gather Together, which used a traditional Netherlands folk song with anonymous lyrics translated into English. I learned that it was written by Adrianus Valerius in 1597 as a patriotic song in 1597 to celebrate a Dutch victory over Spain. King Philip II of Spain, whom the Dutch were fighting, had forbidden the Protestants to gather for worship. It’s more defiant, asking for God’s blessing on the congregation as it follows the narrow path toward righteousness. “We all do extol Thee, Thou leader in battle, and pray that Thou still our defender will be. . .” It’s less mournful and more of a rallying cry. We must keep going through the storm.
We Gather Together was more about the people in the church, more about the church community who gathered each week and even on Wednesday nights. There were church suppers that a growing boy began to enjoy even more than other church activities. These expanded the tradition of family gatherings that my family had enjoyed for as long as I could remember.
We Gather Together
Since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, we in the West have not had to worry much about famine and starvation
Since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, we in the West have not had to worry much about famine and starvation. These days when there are shortages and disruptions on the supply system, instead of Mother Nature being the problem, we know it’s much more likely to be politicians and socialist planners who bear the blame. But still, we should remember it as a season of gratitude for what we have, be it more or less than years past.
When the skies lowered and the days became noticeably shorter, our ancestors naturally turned to feelings of gratitude for another harvest that would make life possible through the coming winter. We would do well to do the same.
In uncertain times, every season should be a season of gratitude.
Dr. Bruce Smith (Inkwell, Hearth and Plow) is a retired professor of history and a lifelong observer of politics and world events. He holds degrees from Indiana University and the University of Notre Dame. In addition to writing, he works as a caretaker and handyman. His non-fiction book The War Comes to Plum Street, about daily life in the 1930s and during World War II, may be ordered from Indiana University Press.
