Since returning from the Servite meeting in Australis, I have had to address jet-lag and the pile of documents on my desk. But there is another adjustment I have had to face. In Australia it was springtime. In Chicago it is autumn. After watching nature slowly come to life in Australia, I returned home to find the trees in our garden had assumed the golden color of autumn. Each season has a special feel to it. Autumn is about endings and spring is about new beginnings. Because we are confident that spring will follow winter, we can enjoy the wonder of fall. The rising will follow the dying. Each year we relive the paschal mystery; and for me it all happened within two weeks—and in reverse!

Something that I find fascinating is that a tree’s leaves serve an important function. The pigment that gives leaves their green color helps absorb sunlight, turning it into energy which the tree uses to grow and thrive during the summer months. Sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide combine into glucose or sugar. So, a tree is actually on a sugar-high all summer, and that is why it looks healthy. When the days grow shorter and there is less sunlight, the green color starts to fade from the leaves and the other pigments that have been hiding under the surface begin to shine through. The tree starts to store nutrients for winter hibernation. It pulls the remaining nutrients from the leaves into the trunk and the branches, and the leaves fall to the ground and die.

We sometimes speak of the autumn of life as a time when we find that we have less energy to expend. We cannot do all the things we used to; so, like the trees, we pull back more and more from the fevered life around us and focus on what is essential for our existence. Surely there is a spiritual dimension to this. The vibrant golds and reds that we see in the fall were always present in the leaves. It was just that the leaves were busy being productive, working for the tree. The green color was the color of dutiful employment. It was appropriate during those peak months of summer. Now that the leaves are not working full-time to feed the tree, they can reveal the colors that had been present but hidden. With confidence that our faith gives us that new life will come after death, we can spend those autumn years attending to parts of our life that we have had no time for (or said we had no time for!) when we were building a career. But autumn should be a time of decision for all of us: What do we need to let go of, so that we can be more present to God and other people in the present moment? The falling leaves also serve the health of the tree. In an ice storm, the ice that would form on the leaves would add a tremendous amount of weight to the branches. Ice storms would be even more destructive than they are. Even if we are in the prime of our career, there may be parts of our life that we need to let fall to the ground—so that we can be physically, emotionally, socially, and spiritually healthier. And we cannot forget that a walk in a forest preserve this time of year can be an invitation to prayer. The beauty that nature provides can remind us of both the grandeur of God and the vulnerability of our ecosystem. This wonderful self-sustaining way of life that trees have enjoyed for millions of years will not endure if we do not take care of our common home.

Many people feel sad when autumn comes. There is a sense that people that we love and things that we love are passing away. This is one of the reasons why the church celebrates the Feast of All Saints and All Souls at this time of year. Even though we look forward with hope to the future, the sadness is very real. It is an unavoidable part of life. Columnist Ron Rolheiser once expressed his regret that our culture and our churches do not give us more opportunities just to be sad.

“There are many legitimate reasons for being sad. Some of us are born with old souls, over-sensitive to the pathos of life. Some of us suffer from bad physical health; others from fragile mental health. Some of us have never been sufficiently loved and honored for who we are; others have had their hearts broken by infidelity and betrayal. Some of us have had our lives irrevocably ripped apart by abuse, rape, and violence; others are simply hopeless, frustrated romantics with perpetually crushed dreams, agonizing in nostalgia. Moreover, all of us will have our own share of losing loved ones, of breakdowns of all sorts, and bad seasons that test the heart. There are a myriad of reasons to be sad. This needs to honored in our Eucharists and in other church gatherings. Church is not just a place for upbeat celebrations. It is also supposed to be a safe place where we can break down. Liturgy too must give us permission to be sad.”

                                             Fr Joe