Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Here's your challenge: Find a pantheon that does not have a deity associated with farming or harvesting. Find a faith path that does not celebrate the bringing in of sheaves. If you do, our operators are standing by to take your call.
Both of my grandfathers were farmers who moved into white collar jobs at a fairly young age. My maternal grandfather (Granddad Jerk) couldn't wait to get off the farm and move into a fancy house. My dad's father (Granddad Hero) never owned any property except his 75 acres of Appalachian farmland, upon which stood a house with no running water. He rented modest houses in town but always returned to the farmland when he could. In his last years he lived there nine months out of the year.
Granddad Hero fretted about the weather his whole life. He was an industrial inventor, a patent holder, high in the management of a synthetic fabric company. And yet he fretted about the weather. At any time, on any day, he could go to the grocery store and buy food. And yet he fretted about the weather. If it was dry, he scanned the skies for rain. If it rained too much, he worried about rot.
We teased him about it, all this fretting over the weather. How silly of us.
Only two generations removed from the land, I had lost touch with the anxieties inherent in farming. Too little rain, you starve. Too much rain, you starve. Starve, as in not enough food. Starve, as in no money to buy shoes, coats, coffee. That was the youth my Granddad Hero.
Doesn't it make sense to pray for rain? Doesn't it give you some solace to feel a deity is intervening in the cycle of the land? Doesn't it make ultimate sense to thank that deity, or those deities, for your harvest?
Thank you, Danu and Bile. Thank you, Lugh. The corn is ripe, the crops are coming in. And then we'll plant our fields again.