In This Border Month
From The Pastor’s Desk—
I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven’t said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.
-Tove Jansson
When I was a child, August was always a conundrum. We spent much of the month at my grandmother’s, on the coast in Rhode Island. Days were long, and though dusk was coming earlier each day, it was gradual enough that I wasn’t able to perceive the change. Early in the month, we were allowed to throw the conventions of bedtime to the wind and stay up late into the night watching the annual Perseid meteor shower from South Shore beach. The wineberries ripened on the vine, sweet pepperbush came into bloom, and I was too enraptured to associate any of that with the change that would come.
On a seemingly random rainy day, when the weather was unsuited to the beach or a picnic, we would get packed up into the family station wagon and taken for the first true harbinger of the coming Autumn season: back to school shopping. Feet that had grown accustomed to wearing flip flops or going barefoot were now forced back into one of the few pairs of socks packed for vacation, and stuffed into new shoes for the coming school year. T-shirts that had become bleached by the sun or stained with barbecue sauce from cookouts were replaced by crisp new clothes that could not be worn until we were back home. Those outfits would make their debut in September, when the mornings began to get cool, and the schedule of the school bus came to dominate family life.
Even though, for most of us, the back to school season does not hold the primacy it once did, we find ourselves in another liminal season. We are in the throes of Summer visitors, but in only a few weeks, the town will begin to empty out once again. We will be able to travel on Route 6 without allowing another half hour for travel; I’ll be able to back out the driveway with ease.
We live in a place of borders. We have the immense privilege of living in a place where the land meets the water on almost all sides. We can watch the sun rise and set from almost the same vantage points. In this border month of August, it would be a folly to cast our eyes too soon to the coming Autumn. To do so, though it may make our mental preparations easier, is to rob ourselves of this present moment; these days.
Thoreau once wrote: Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth. During the month of July, our scripture lessons were full of parables and prophecies about growing things: seed cast on different types of soil, wheat and weeds growing together, bread and wine and milk and honey. Even though each of these lessons contains a vision of the future, they also orient our attention to the here and now.
In this border month, may you enjoy the blessings of this season. May you find joy in warm days, soft nights, and the abundance of garden and field. As it turns, may you also welcome that which is to come, and all that God has in store for each one of us.
—Pastor Jon
