These days, so many of us live in cities that we have to real experience of harvest—after the sowing, the long wait before seedlings appear and grow. All the while, there’s a tension of expectation, the worry that storms or drought or fire can undo all the work. Finally, when what has been planted is ripe, the labor of harvesting begins. Today’s farmers have huge machines to do the reaping and gathering, but the process is the same—and so is the rejoicing at God’s bounty.

God’s word is like the farmer’s seed,
rooted in joyful, loving hearts,
growing like grain in fertile ground,
a harvest that overflows. (From “Parable,” MD Ridge)

In farm fields and city blocks, where cattle graze and people ride underground, in whispering orchards and roaring factories, God’s word still is sown and grows and ripens.

We who believe are the harvest; what we are and have, we share. Thus we still sing,

Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves.
We will come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.