To everything there is a season
The weather this week requires (at least for my children) a return to winter jackets, hats, and gloves for their extended outdoor play. The novelty was of some interest to the baby, who was happy to stick two fists into mittens without bothering to align her thumbs. Big brother was less excited to don the boots that slow him down on the playground. What a burden, those warm feet.
Our reactions to this week’s chill are probably similar to that of these kids. The skiers and other lovers of winter rejoice in hope of what the cooler temperatures signal. For others, the gathering darkness and greater time indoors (or more gear to put on outdoors) are less welcome.
There was a timely piece on Vermont Public this week, collecting the sentiments of gardeners as they wrap up their season. Plenty of disappointments, but some wonder as well, sometimes all in one breath. Here’s a lovely quote from Anne Greensfelder:
I feel as though I can either have a garden or a social life. And all these years, I've chosen the garden, and now I'm in my mid-70s, and it's occurred to me, I should probably have more of a social life. But I'll tell you, when I go into the garden, I get to watch insects — lots of times, they're just fascinating to me. How do these insects manage to find each other and mate within a week when here I've been single for years now? Nature is awesome.
Anne also had some mixed emotions about the coming winter. Here’s her response to reporter Erica Hellman’s question about whether she fears the dark or the winter.
No, I don't feel afraid of it. I don't like it to be as long as it is, but I also have things that I'm looking forward to doing inside that I have put off all these months. Reading, sewing. Reading, sewing. (Laughter) Reading, sewing. Yeah, it's gonna get rough. I know it's gonna get rough.
To be sure, winter is not the easiest season for many of us. The isolation and tedium of winter’s routines can sometimes feel, shall we say, less than life-giving. And yet, could we imagine an infinite gardening season? Unchecked, endless growth, accompanied therefore by unceasing weed, pest, and water management? That doesn’t sound altogether pleasant either.
There is a poignance that comes with the truth that “to everything there is a season…a time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up what was planted.” (Ecc. 3:1-2) The finitude of the growing season reminds us of our own mortality, which can be frightening, but also grounding as we find our place among all living things.
This Sunday, we’ll dive a little deeper into the complex blessing of finitude. In the meantime, if you’re preparing your winter reading list, I’m including a few suggestions that have come across my mind and desk as I’ve worked through the topics of this worship series.
More on Sunday,
Pastor Jen
Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds & Shape Our Futures, by Merlin Sheldrake, 2021.
The God Effect: Quantum Entanglement, Science’s Strangest Phenomenon. Brian Clegg, 2009.
The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate, Discoveries from a Secret World. Peter Wohlleben, 2017.
The Language of Trees: A Rewilding of Literature and Landscape. By Kate Holten with contributions from over 50 writers, including some we’re using in this worship series. 2023.
Life after Doom: Wisdom and Courage for a World Falling Apart. Brian McLaren, 2024.
Who Do We Choose to Be? Second Edition: Facing Reality, Claiming Leadership, Restoring Sanity. Margaret J. Wheatley, 2023.
Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times. Katherine May, 2020.
