by Bijan Omrani, Telegraph
It was invented by one of the Victorian era’s maddest clerics, but it’s become a joyous staple of our culture
There is an easy cure for those of you who are depressed by the recent antics of the multi-faith awards at Lambeth Palace: get to your parish churches in the coming weeks, and join the celebrations of Harvest Festival.
It is one of the times of the year when English churches are seen at their best. In our own parish church, a group of talented volunteers will go in before the service to deck it out with what I know will be a breathtaking floral display for the season.
Our flower arrangers’ creativity is quite beyond me to articulate, but perhaps we shall see some of the dahlias and chrysanthemums from local gardens mixed with sheaves of grain and produce from the veg patches – pumpkins, courgettes, even armfuls of the Crimson Victoria apple which is native to our parish – all radiant against the church’s medieval stone walls.
It’s not just the church that will be at its finest, but the parish as a whole. During the service, the congregation will roar out some of the best stuff in the hymn book – We Plough the Fields and Scatter, To Thee O Lord Our Hearts We Raise (with a rousing tune by Arthur Sullivan) – and the choir will try the early 18th-century harvest dance number Thou Visitest the Earth by Maurice Greene (if you don’t know it, listen now on YouTube: it is glorious).
The congregation will pray together and collect offerings of food for charity. We have also invited a local farmer to address us. Later, the parish will gather to share a supper. The Festival promises to be an epitome of gratitude, cheer, service, fellowship, and the beauty of the local.