“I just love this time of year!”
My wife Wendy verbalized what I was thinking as she pulled open the shades and looked into our backyard. The morning light was illuminating the park-like view we enjoy from our family room. The Japanese vine maple trees were boasting their colors while their leaves began to carpet our patio.
It’s amazing. Every fall we tend to fall into a trance. The crisp cold nights and warm sunny afternoons have a way of holding our hearts hostage. And we aren’t in a hurry to be set free. Wendy enjoys brewing hot cider in our old coffee percolator. Our grandkids love visiting the local pumpkin patch. And I find great joy walking through the nearby forest gazing at the Kodachrome wonderland of color.
Years ago, The New Yorker magazine featured a cover that caught my attention. I loved it so much, I saved it. It’s a whimsical scene of the Creator reaching down from Heaven touching the trees and transforming their green leaves into red, orange and yellow.
Upon closer examination, you discover that the Almighty is not alone. He is surrounded by cherubs who are aiming their cameras taking photos of the phenomenon. What I like is the fact that the beauty of this time of year is attributed to the One we worship as the giver and sustainer of life.
Autumn is definitely a photo-op. The pictures on my iPhone bear witness to that. But autumn is much more. The fall season is a time for reflection. It is an opportunity to contemplate the spiritual dimension of our lives. It’s a chance to ask ourselves why we are awed by the beauty of fall colors. What (or Who) accounts for our emotional response to all things beautiful? As the leaves fall, why not look up?
Sometime back I penned these words in my journal: “Autumn leaves us awed with wonder. Trees once green blush red and gold. Darkness draws its early curtain. Balmy nights turn frosty cold. Mystery abounds in nature. In this season God we see.”
Autumn is that shoulder season between summer and winter when we are reminded of the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death. Flowers lose their bloom. Trees lose their leaves. The hours of daylight disappear before our very eyes. Fall is an annual metaphor for what awaits each one of us.
The Hebrew prophet Isaiah observed the inescapable destiny of plant life and human life when he observed that“the grass withers and the flower fades…” (Isaiah 40:8) The psalmist journaled essentially the same thought when he wrote “My days are like a lengthened shadow, and I wither away like grass.” (Psalm 102:11)
A morbid thought? Not necessarily. The same Bible that declares the universality of death, also says this: Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” (Psalm 116:15) And by saints he means people who belong to Him. Even King Solomon was credited with saying,“The day of our death is better than the day of our birth.” (Ecclesiastes 7:1). Death is not to be feared. There is glory in the mystery of passing beyond the veil of this life. Death is a thing of beauty for those whose faith provides them the assurance of eternal life.
And speaking of death, get this: The fall leaves we delight in and love to photograph are incredibly beautiful because they have ceased to live or are in the process of dying. In autumn, the Master Artist has given us a visual aid of a timeless principle. Though it often comes with darkness, drizzle, wind and cold, in death there is glory. In death, like in the fall season, there is cause for awe.
At the start of each of the four seasons and for milestone holidays, we decorate our fireplace mantel with large wooden blocks. The blocks call attention to what’s happening in our family or in the world. This week we are celebrating autumn. But as you might expect we spell autumn a bit differently than most. We spell it AWE-TUMN.
Guest columnist Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former chaplain at Covenant Living at the Shores in Mercer Island.