Drawing near to darkness, or that which you cannot see clearly, also gets you closer to light, or that which you might see more clearly. | “Road to…somewhere” photo by Sam R LaDue, taken on the final leg of the Camino de Sonoma, a 12-mile trek I did with our Redeemer Presbyterian friends on a foggy Saturday in September.

Fall is one of my favorite times of the year. It’s a liminal time; Not winter, but also not summer. I enjoy the weather fluctuating back and forth between cooler winter-like foggy days, and little spurts of heat waves that remind us summer is not ready to relinquish to winter just yet. There is a sense of thinness to this season. Death and life are especially close to one another and doing an elegant dance that plays out for us in the colors of falling leaves, the rush of fall breeze, and prickly cool mornings that are a little too dark to want to get out of bed.

For some, this is the season of endings (like the end of a growth and harvest cycle)— but for us Christians, it’s also the precursor to the start of beginning our new liturgical year (also one of my favorite liturgical seasons): Advent.
I think it was Parker Palmer who said that if we want to draw nearer to the light, we must draw nearer to the darkness. The two are intrinsically intertwined, we need both. I see how this works out as a photographer in very practical ways, all the time. An image made by a camera requires both light and darkness. Especially when using a digital camera. Digital sensors seek where to focus based on the contrasts of what is light and what is dark in the area you point your lens to. We photographers can always manually adjust where the focus will be, of course. But, regardless of whether the camera is doing the work or the photographer is: it is the presence of both shadows and highlights that make the image possible. Similarly, it’s the presence of changing seasons (liturgical or otherwise) and shifting of focus that makes it possible for us dive into the nuances and many variations of experiencing God and Christ throughout our lives.

With the end of Pentecost (sometimes called Ordinary time) coming, and Reformation as well as All Saints Sundays right around the corner, the increasingly darker days will give in to the Advent season where we’ll speak of hope, and light…but we’ll need to remember and allow for the darkness of the season (the things we cannot see, the things we do not understand, the things that we’re unsure about, things we don’t love about ourselves) that makes that contrast of light noticeable. Taking this time to notice our own challenges and difficulties and growth areas make it possible for us to experience abundant grace and mercy. And, of course, keep ourselves working toward the ever-inbreaking of God’s

kindom. It’s never an easy task, yet always the call of the Gospel.Perhaps, like me, you enjoy little spiritual practices that help you center and listen carefully for what God is saying to you. This practice, adapted from the book Hello, Goodbye (by Day Schildkret)

is a tool for entering the liminal space that is fall, beginning some thinking about how Reformation Sunday calls us to careful thought and transformation, and (of course) preparing ourselves for the new liturgical year.

I have so much gratitude for the ways this community has welcomed me. From showing me bicycling routes to helping me know where to get great food to simply laughing with me and telling me your stories, it’s been an amazing month of starting to get to know Faith Lutheran and some of our neighbors with Redeemer and the Korean Presbyterian church. It has also been a very chaotic month, between defending a masters thesis, handling unpacking, as well as starting here, yet your gracious welcome and warmth in hospitality has sustained me and reminded me that careful discernment and choosing to be here with you, was certainly the best Spirit-influenced choice I ever could have made. Thank you for being wonderful you, Faith Lutheran. It’s really an honor to be here with you, and I’m excited for what we might get up to over the next 11 months.

with joy, and deep gratitude for your presence on this journey

-Intern Pr. Sam