Raise the Song

All the world is God’s own field,

Fruit unto His praise to yield;

Wheat and tares together sown,

Unto joy or sorrow grown;

First the blade, and then the ear,

Then the full corn shall appear:

Lord of harvest, grant that we

Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come,

And shall take His harvest home;

From His field shall in that day

All offenses purge away;

Give His angels charge at last

In the fire the tares to cast;

But the fruitful ears to store

In His garner evermore.

Even so, Lord, quickly come,

Bring Thy final harvest home;

Gather Thou Thy people in,

Free from sorrow, free from sin,

There, forever purified,

In Thy garner to abide;

Come, with all Thine angels come,

Raise the glorious harvest home.

Henry Alford, 1844.

This is one of my favorite Thanksgiving songs. I’ve been humming it over the past couple of days and it does have a catchy tune. But I recently took a little time to actually look at the words. Things written in the 19th Century sometimes are a little hard to decipher at first, but the more I read this, the more I began to understand what the song really means. I guess I always knew it wasn’t about food although I associated it with food Sunday. This song has nothing to do with food and everything to do with salvation!

May we offer our thanksgiving of praise to the Lord of the Harvest for supplying our needs, our wants, for making us fruitful, for purging our sin, for gathering us. May we raise the song of harvest home to the world.

Happy Thanksgiving!