The heart of fall is upon us. It is easy to spot because it is characterized by the grand entrance of varieties of colors. The colors have been there all along, the chlorophyll of the plants masking the vibrant hues within the leaves. When cooler temperatures and fewer daylight hours are present, the chlorophyll cells die and fall color becomes a certainty.

Another sure sign of fall is found in textures and colors as they blend with one another. For a brief period the greens from summer and the colors of fall co-exist in happy coincidence. Those few days are filled with expectation as colors blend, a harmony of many parts. It doesn’t matter if the trees don’t actually “turn.” We’ll graciously accept the gift no matter how it comes about.

We all have our preferences; some prefer oaks over maples, burning bushes over privet, and locust over Rocky Mountain ash. Regardless of your fall preferences, the season would simply not be the same but for the variety it represents. Fall is more complete taken as a whole. The world would be in deep leaf piles if everyone thought exactly alike. As it is, we have plenty to keep us pondering.

Engaging our differences does not mean that we must believe a certain way or pack up our bags and leave. It should, however, allow generous space for grace to slip into the course of things, grace that is helpful, healthy, and life-sustaining. Can churches accommodate that notion or is it beyond our capabilities? Sadly, far too many religious groups call for unity but only in their particular setting or environment. The real test is in moving beyond the walls of the church. Like five year olds, we know how to behave; it’s just that it’s so hard.

Blending the gifts that community places before us means letting go of ego and opening our minds to different models of faith and action. There are many wonderful organizations doing marvelous work on behalf of others, but the passion that Christendom brings to the table is truly notable. How we use it is a question that we would be wise to entertain more often.

There is no better time than fall to engage the many colors to be found in faithful commitment nested in community. “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another …” (Hebrews 10:24-25). That’s a hard sell at times when the issues we cannot agree over are issues of justice as well. A professor from seminary days was fond of responding to a variety of grand questions, nearly always with the same prefatory lead in, “Well, it’s complicated ...”

Religion in general is complicated and complex. Instead of squaring off with arguments in hopes of convincing others to change their minds, we have the opportunity to fold our colors into those found in vibrant community. Imagine the possibilities by soaking in the all-to-brief colors of fall. The blended result just might surprise.