Fearless Faith

The summer garden is winding down. Vibrant colors still abound, but they are distinctly more mature, bringing a different view of beauty into the fold. Deep yellows and golds permeate the garden as dusky sage and durable sedum provide a muted backdrop. Fall berries adorn many of the perennial shrubs, drawing late summer birds fueling for migration. And, while bumble bees are still making the rounds, they are fewer in number though welcome pollinators nonetheless.

Garden wise, it has been a good year, relatively speaking. Moisture arrived at critical moments for many crops, although hail and damaging winds experienced by a few farmers also reminded us that we are as vulnerable to calamity as anyone else. We are still attempting to determine the significance of toads in the window wells. They are of Biblical proportions that would make Moses proud.

We take for granted the changing of the seasons and the tilt of the earth on its axis. It reminds us that, for all the seeming immovability of distant stars and galaxies, the universe is in constant play. Is it any wonder that early civilizations attached so many mystical explanations to celestial events? And yet, modern day knowledge of such things does not diminish the “wow” factor in the least. One key to greater clarity is to empty our mind of what we think we know so that it doesn’t get in the way of what we could know. We are a rather stubborn lot in that regard, presuming our particular brand of knowledge sacrosanct.

Returning to earth for a moment or two, one of the most visible reminders of change as we head into fall, is the view from the kitchen sink. We prefer to handwash most of our dishes because the view changes daily depending on the flowers planted and the time of day. This year, planters filled with zinnias and varieties of sunflowers demanded our attention. It almost makes doing dishes pleasurable. While it is a small enough task to carry out, he reward is great — seasons on display before our very eyes.

Heavens or flower pots, change is inevitable every day. We have a choice to experience it as it happens or to walk on by, hoping that it doesn’t suddenly chase us down. It is helpful when others point out the beauty of change as well as its anxieties. Both aspects are best experienced in well-formed functioning communities. When we are unable to speak, community is there to encourage worshipful attitudes of thankfulness and gratitude. Alternately, when change ushers hardship to our door, that same community is there to assist until persons can begin functioning on their own once more. It represents a gift of the highest order, to be deemed worthy in the eyes of others and The Divine.

There is no manual for dealing perfectly with change, although some constants are present. It is why there continues to be a need to engage faith elements in our daily comings and goings. The world is too large to go it alone, especially for “the least of these” that Jesus so capably raises up.

Praise for summer gardens and the change they represent and praise be the communities of faith that draw us together.