Why are we Obsessed With Fall?

"That time of year thou mayst in me behold, When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang..." ~William Shakespeare

The season of Fall has always warmed my heart. Summer is far too hot and sticky for my liking. Thankfully, Fall appears as sweet relief from the oceans of humidity that the summer months bathe us in. Yet, I doubt all of the people that are celebrating the coming of Fall across the internet are doing so because they wish to live in Antarctica like me. So, what is it that is so special about Fall? Why are we so darn obsessed with it?

The time of Autumn seems to have always been a special time for humanity. One does not have to look far in literature and poetry to find the color of fall and the season appearing as a popular backdrop for stories and sonnets. Not only is it regard for its beauty, but it holds some spiritual significance to us as well.

Cultures across continents celebrated some kind of festival for the dead and gone. From the Celtics of the British Isles to the Aztecs of the Yucatan Peninsula, Autumn in some way has represented a connection with the dead. Legends are told of a certain day where the veil between this world and the next is most thin. Perhaps this is due to the very thing that defines Fall, the falling of the leaves. Fall really is just a prelude to winter. A season that is intrinsically tied to the cold bitterness of death. Yet the bright and vibrant colors of Autumn scarcely resemble the decayed brown of winter. If winter is death then autumn is dying.

This, perhaps, is what strikes me as so odd. In today's culture, we have a weird relationship with death. This is a topic a friend of mine and I have written about before. We are happy to speak of death as an escape from the petty squabbles of this life, but the dying part still gives us some discomfort, and yet this season that we love, "spooky season" as it's called, is all about the act of dying. What's even more confusing, is that this is a season that is draped in beauty. Nature itself screams out that the act of dying is something that is linked to beauty. How can that be?

This question is reasonable, especially coming from people who have been steeped in a materialistic culture our entire lives. How can dying be beautiful? It's seen as just passing from existence to non-existence, from being to non-being. Living is supposed to be focused on life. A creeping sense of dread surrounds the thought of what it means to "not be". Have you ever tried to think of what it would be like to not exist? It's utterly impossible. Which is why we should just focus on life, not its bitter end. Authors such as Albert Camus found the stoic heroism in humanity's never-ending battle against the absurd. That's what we should focus on, not the death. That reality is far too grim, but is it really the reality?

To the materialist it is, but not to the Christian. To the Christian, dying can be a truly beautiful act. In fact, the entire act of living is really just one long act of dying. One doesn't have to search long in the Scriptures to read about the importance of dying to self. St. Paul boldly exclaims (or at least I imagine him doing so), "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is to gain" (Philippians 1:21, ESV). Christianity has always seen death as a reward and dying is how you receive it. Our entire life is one long dying. It is one long, arduous journey towards the sweet relief of death. It's no wonder the ancient prayer begins with, "eternal rest, grant unto them...".

Our culture tells us to be scared of dying, yet the golden pallet of Autumn leaves comforts us. God, through the beauty of creation, reminds us that dying can be beautiful. These two perspectives stand as polar opposites to one another. How can Christians even begin to show non-believers the beauty that can be found in dying. If there is anything that commands power and the minds of men, it is narrative. The cultural narrative is key when it comes to understanding the world around us, and how people will view us as Christians. Currently, there are a couple different views that exist of Christians in the modern imagination. There is the bible-thumping fundamentalist, the repressed Puritan, and the gloomy, anti-world trad. That list is by no means exhaustive, and I only intend to focus on the last of the narratives.

We must change the cultural narrative surrounding Christians if we want people to see us as what we truly are, which is redeemed sons and daughters of the Triune God. That is a life bursting with joy, even at death. Mortification is painful and difficult. The pursuit of sainthood is a long an arduous one, and yet it should be done with a smile. We must keep ever-present in our minds that in dying we become more like the one we love.

Our lives must be as captivating as Autumn is to the popular imagination. Autumn is a season linked between heaven and earth. The smells, colors, textures, and all give a particular earthiness to this season, and yet there is an ethereal hauntedness that imbues the season with mystery. It's a season that demands to be shared. Trips to pumpkin patches, horse-and-buggy rides, bonfires, and walks through colored forests. Autumn begs to be enjoyed with other people.

How can we model our walks with Christ to channel those same feelings? It doesn't have to be complicated. After all, Fall is just pumpkins, dead leaves, and a chilly breeze. Yet, something about that equation lifts the human soul. So should our daily prayers, Scripture readings, and Sunday Liturgies. In other words, in our simple acts of dying, we must draw other people into the mystery of Christ, so that they too may participate.

Fall fascinates us because no matter how hard the culture has tried, it cannot entirely cut out the human spirit's desperate cry for the Divine. As Christians, we must use this time as an opportunity to invite people into the Eternal Autumn, which is our walk with Christ. Not because we need more bodies in pews, or because people need to know how right we are, but because Christ, like Autumn, is meant to be enjoyed in company. A vast company, even.

So enjoy a latte, jump into a leaf pile, and get your Saint costume ready, and have a blessed Autumn season.