Showing posts with label harvest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label harvest. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

A simple lesson



The harvest.
It was a chilly morning in New York one day this week, and a truly integrated cluster of homeless persons slept on a grate as it noisily vented warm air from Penn Station below. Rolled in roiling, tangled blankets, black and white and brown limbs intermingled, seeking warmth from the roaring vertical wind. Passersby rush on, each busily on a mission, with disapproving glances. 

Later, lunching at a well-known chain restaurant across the river in Hoboken, a small, hunched man with a wild white beard and simple knit hat and rumpled, soiled clothing, eats standing up. Looking like a creature from “The Hobbit,” he performs quick, obsessive, ritualistic manipulation of his food and drink, finally eviscerating the sandwich and devouring the filling. He is closely watched but outwardly ignored by other diners, cautiously watchful nearby. 

It is a matter of great, learned, debate, whether God exists, and if so, which one.

But it matters not. These people, the least among us, are equally imbued with human rights. Whether God-given or inherited from the Universe, these are fully human creatures, not less than any of us.

At the other end of the privilege spectrum are the highly educated, the trained, the cultured, the deep thinkers. And they care, deeply. And know that they can improve the lives of us all, if only we’d listen, and obey.

These are they who prescribe, command, compel. The new Ten Commandments. Thou shalt not live on the street. Thou shall not consume large sugary drinks. Thou shalt wear seat belts, and not smoke, and a thousand other things. 

Because they are educated and enlightened. Because the are concerned. And because they think themselves our betters.

But they are not.

This country was a grand experiment, splintered from the regencies and monarchies and religious shackles of mother Europe. It was founded on the principle that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness." Sound familiar?

So let us consider one early example of the power of individual freedom. It resonates yet today, though greatly muted.

In November of 1620, a group of Separatists left England on the Mayflower seeking religious freedom and economic opportunity. The first several years were extremely difficult, near famine, with poor crop yields and perilous scarcity.  Nathaniel Philbrick, author of “Mayflower,” takes up the tale:

“The fall of 1623 marked the end of Plymouth’s debilitating food shortages. For the last two planting seasons, the Pilgrims had grown crops communally – the approach first used at Jamestown and other English settlements. But as the disastrous harvest of the previous fall had shown, something drastic needed to be done.”

“In April, [William] Bradford had decided that each household should be assigned its own plot to cultivate, with the understanding that each family kept whatever it grew. The change in attitude was stunning. Families were now willing to work much harder than they had ever worked before. In previous years, the men had tended the fields while the women tended the children at home. ‘The women now went willingly into the field,’ Bradford wrote, ‘and took their little ones with them to set the corn.’ The Pilgrims had stumbled on the power of capitalism. Although the fortunes of the colony still teetered precariously in the years ahead, the inhabitants never again starved.”

A mystery. Or perhaps not – simply human nature. When treated as free persons, owners of their own labor and the fruits thereof, the Pilgrims prospered. And as they prospered individually, so did the colony.

A small, hoary example, perhaps, but timeless.

The lesson is simple. Our "betters" are so only in their imaginations and inflated egos. Let each choose their own path. Offer your advice if you must, but restrain the impulse to impose. As an equal, you do not have that right.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Giving thanks for the harvest


Pieter Bruegel the Elder. The Harvest. 1565.
Northwestern Pennsylvania is farm country, and we know about the harvest.

Quite a few years ago, my young classmates and I were enthralled by the story of the first Thanksgiving.  Plymouth, Massachusetts, seemed remote and exotic; we envisioned Plymouth Rock as an enormous, looming protuberance, much like the Rock of Gibraltar. It turns out that the rock is actually quite small, but it remains a stirring monument to the intense faith and hard labors of the Mayflower Pilgrims.

The colonists had originally intended to depart Europe in early 1620 to give them at least a partial growing season in the New World.  But that was not to be. After many delays and false starts, the Mayflower finally left Plymouth, England, on September 6.  Inclement weather, unfavorable winds, and turbulent seas extended the grueling journey to over three and a half months. Finally, on December 21, the first landing party came ashore at New Plymouth, and several days later the construction of a common house was begun. 

Winter is not the easiest time to establish a colony.  In the harsh, frozen land they hoped to claim, nearly half of the original 102 Mayflower passengers perished by spring.  Husbanding the meager provisions remaining on the Mayflower, hunting in the surrounding lands, and fishing the sea, fifty three of the colonists managed to survive.  Now the challenge was to clear land, plant crops, and pray for a favorable harvest.

It turns out that they were lucky, or blessed, or both.  The soil was rich, weather gentle, and crops grew vigorously.  The harvest was plentiful and, with salted cod, smoked venison, and other provisions stored in plentitude, the odds of surviving the coming winter appeared good.  The Pilgrims celebrated a harvest festival along with a band of Massasoits with whom they had a treaty of peace.  It is quaint to think so today, and perhaps even illegal in our public schools, but they gave deep, heartfelt thanks to God for their good fortune.

We have become very disconnected from the sources of our food.  By and large, unlike the Pilgrims, we don’t have personal involvement in planting and harvesting the food that we eat.  Potatoes grow in hills of soil and were harvested with flat-tined pitchforks in the fall.  Corn and pumpkins were planted together because the pumpkin plants smothered weeds and helped to retain moisture for the corn.  All this the Pilgrims knew; we know how to drive to the grocery store.

So this Thanksgiving, while we are giving thanks for the Black Friday shopping binge to come, please give a thought to our blessings, the hard working farmers who labor for us, their bountiful harvest, and how very fortunate we are.