This post is written by Father Michael Gokie, parochial vicar at St. Agatha-St. James Parish in the Catholic Archdiocese of Philadelphia. It is part of our Pastor’s Corner series. Pastor’s Corner is an initiative of the Penn Epistle to seek and elevate the perspectives of pastors and ministry leaders on our campus. Posts will be published on a quarterly basis.
In one of the most quaint books I’ve ever read, there is a simple line that I always remember this time of year. A charming little girl named Anne Shirley almost offhandedly says, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” I agree. The world is made so much more beautiful with Octobers. There is something so captivating about the Fall.
Think back to the first weeks of the semester. Everything moved at full speed. Student groups lined the walkways, trying to win over every freshman who walked by. Returning students rushed to reconnect with friends they hadn’t seen all Summer. There was convocation, the welcome events, the new schedules, the new rooms, the new faces. It was exciting, and it was also a lot.
Then, almost without our noticing, something shifted. The days fell into a rhythm as classes and calendars fell into a routine. The air turned cooler, and we started reaching for sweaters. The cooler weather has a way of settling us. Summer pulls us outward, toward noise and motion and activity. Fall draws us inward. It slows us down. Creation itself seems to quiet, and it invites us to quiet down with it. If we let it, the season can become an opportunity to enter into a kind of silence, the kind where we can actually hear. So it’s worth asking what the Lord might be saying to us through this beautiful season.
Fall is known for its beauty–a beauty that captivates us, but it is also a beauty that, in the end, always seems to disappoint, as the colors that make October so stunning are the very signs that the leaves are letting go –that the beauty will not last. The bright red and orange turn to brown and in a few weeks the branches will be bare.
The scriptures often speak of the fleeting beauty of the world – of the flower in the field whose beauty highlights the landscape but lasts but a moment before it wilts and dies. The Fall is a good reminder of this beauty – it is a real beauty, and one we do well to delight in. But alas, it is a beauty that does not last – and cannot fulfill. Too often we try to hold onto the passing beauty of the world, to preserve it, and keep it from slipping away. We chase the perfect photo, the perfect look, the perfect version of
ourselves, and dread any imperfections.
This beautiful and passing season reminds us every year of this reality, and raises a question worth contemplating: if this is the beauty that fades, then what is the beauty that lasts?
And to this our Lord also speaks through this Fall season. It offers us a great contrast to Summer. The Summer season often turns our attention to the superficial–to outward appearances and adventures – travels, vacations, how I look, what I’m wearing, new friends, and new places. The great gift of the Fall is that it gently turns our attention to the profound and personal. It is a season not of the spice of the new and forgettable, but of the warmth of the familiar and lasting. It is a season of long conversations on the
porch, of lingering at the table a bit longer, grabbing a sweater and a pumpkin spice latte with an old friend, and losing track of time while forming the friendships that will last.
And as Thanksgiving approaches and Fall starts to wane, we can’t help but learn from this beautiful season that which is most important, and the one thing that truly lasts: relationships. So here is my encouragement as the semester continues: get caught up in this gentle season. Let the quieter rhythm of Fall slow you down and distract you from what is less important. Step away from the noise long enough to notice the trees, to notice the One who made them, and to notice the ones who want to enjoy them with you.
Invite an old friend for coffee. Open up the Bible by the fire or with a wood-wick candle. Leave your phone in your room and just spend time with your eyes and your heart truly open and free. Ask a friend a question you have never asked before. Call home.
The leaves will fall soon. But the love we cultivate this season, with God and with one another, can last far longer than any single season. And that, more than anything, is why I’m glad we live in a world where there are Octobers.
