In 2002 I moved to Littleport in the Fens when my late husband was stationed there as minister for 4 churches. Employment in the Fens is largely centred on agriculture with many farmers and farm workers in the churches and others working in businesses and industry linked to farming.
So, life in the churches and communities is inextricably tied in with the seasons and the farming year. In the autumn many of the women work in the sheds on farms as the potatoes and sugar beet are graded and packed and in the schools many children are off in term time for holidays as it’s not possible for farm workers to take holidays in August.
In this farming based community we learned how harvest festivals can be whole heartedly celebrated. In January the plough was brought into the church in one of the villages to be blessed, so Gods help was sought from the beginning of the growing season, and at Harvest time the churches would be wonderfully decorated with flowers and produce. Each church had a harvest supper, attended by friends and family of church members so a real community occasion, and seats were eagerly booked beforehand as there wasn’t always room for everyone. The smells in the church were wonderful.
On the Monday evening after the Sunday harvest services there would be an auction of produce. I didn’t go to these at first as I had never experienced such an occasion, but later I went along and realised I had missed something special. There was a great deal of fun as people bid for produce with some strong rivalries, calling out and laughter and the church benefitted financially from all this fun.
As well as the church being the place where thanks for a good harvest was given, there was a role for the church in supporting farmers for whom there had been difficulties. One of our members lost money one year when all his potatoes got blight, and when foot and mouth struck and many farmers had to slaughter their livestock, Ely cathedral held a special service to recognise the pain and struggle farmers were going through. Farming can be a lonely calling and the churches in the Fens recognised the need to support them.
When we left the Fens we took with us memories of the black fertile soil, the vital drainage ditches, huge fields without hedges, and amazing sunsets seen easily in the flat landscape. Most of all we would remember the wonderful farmers, the church socials held in barns, and the special joy of harvests safely gathered in.