by Brett Manero
Fall is here and with it, the usual fall stuff that goes with it. In the Rockies of Colorado, the leaves are already reaching their peak color, with the classic golden look of the Aspen trees being of particular beauty. In the Denver area, in the past day alone, the leaves have suddenly taken a turn towards more color.
Fall is the “melancholy” season, in my opinion. The shorter days, the cooler temperatures, and the changing of the leaves make for a special moodiness in the air. In Church thinking, it’s not only the end of the Gregorian calendar year, but also of the Church liturgical year. One will notice that the readings of Mass will focus on the subject of eschatology, or the study of the final things: death, judgment, heaven, and hell. What is the destiny of the human person? What is the purpose of this existence on earth, an existence which can prove to be tormenting at times?
I found myself at Mt. Olivet Cemetery near Denver recently. Mt. Olivet is the official cemetery of the Archdiocese of Denver, featuring the burial place of the Bishops of Denver and some 190,000 other souls and counting. Among the tombs is the former one of Servant of God Julia Greeley, a former slave whose cause for canonization is currently ongoing. It is awe-inspiring to look at the former tomb of Greeley (who is now buried in the Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Denver) and see the haunting words, “former slave” who now awaits the Resurrection, as predicted by Hosea, Isaiah, Daniel, and Ezekiel. No one was ever meant to be a slave – not in Egypt, nor in the American South, nor to the “anti-Trinity” of the devil, sin, and death. Julia Greeley, like all of the dead, will rise again. Such is the Good News.
Part of the genius of Christianity is that it finds worth and meaning in both suffering and death. Christ takes the scandal of both of these and adds redemption to them. Death is no longer something to live in fear of, for Christ has defeated it. And in the experience of death, there can be immense beauty. Perhaps the season of fall is a sign from God of this truth: the leaves show forth their most beautiful colors during their time of death. And even though they will eventually die, they will rise again into a new garden.
This past summer, I found myself in the rose garden in Hartford, Connecticut, a delight for anyone who finds themselves passing through. The story of humanity began in a garden, that one called Eden. It continued in another garden, the one called the Promised Land. And it will conclude and find its eternal glory in yet another garden, the new heavens and new earth. Perhaps gardens are a small sign, too, of God’s promise to raise us into everlasting life.
Death is all around us during the fall season. This is not meant to be cynical, but to be real. And there is something about being real that allows one to understand the Good News: that death does not and will not have the final word. And until the Resurrection, there is even worth and meaning in suffering in death. Just look all around at the fall colors – they are creation’s proof that death can have beauty in it. And, just look at any rose garden – there is the proof that the dead leaves shall rise again.