About six years ago my father was diagnosed with a chronic form of Leukemia, which is basically a blood cancer that we can treat pretty effectively, but due to its nature will always, eventually come back. As you might imagine his diagnosis was quite a shock to my family. In some ways, this was a death sentence. His cancer would come back, no matter how hard he fought. But it was far from an immediate one. Many people have lived for two decades or more with his form of Leukemia, and literally every few months since his diagnosis new breakthroughs have been made in its treatment that should continue to stretch that window.

And really, the truth is none of us know how long we have, how many days longer we will live is a mystery. And despite our best attempts to take care of our bodies, to make good decisions and stay safe, somewhere in the back of all of our minds we feel the powerlessness we have to guide our expiration date.

And so the way that I have seen my father respond to his cancer diagnosis has been nothing short of inspirational. He has viewed it as a wake up call, a reminder that really all of us need, that our time is fleeting, and none of us know how much time we have, so we might as well make the most of today.

And there is something about the fall season, which has even finally found us here in the bay, that turns my head towards this sort of self-reflection about my life, and where it is going. And indeed I am partaking in an ancient tradition, for when the days grow shorter and the darkness longer, as the natural world slows down and prepares for the colder months ahead, and many things seem to die away for lack of sunshine and warmth, our ancestors have for thousands of years grown reflective in just this way. And a short piece I read from blogger Omar Safi recently that reminded me that all of nature is indeed calling us to these thoughts in this season.

One of the most remarkable characteristics of the fall season is the changing color of the leaves. While this is certainly far more dramatic back in New England where I grew up, we are not without color changing here as well. But here is the thing, those leaves only appear to change color.

As I am sure we all remember from high school science class, leaves are green because of chlorophyll, which is part of the process we call photosynthesis, whereby the leaf absorbs light energy and converts it into chemical energy, which is then released as fuel for the organism the leaf is growing on.

And of course we know that in the fall, as the sun is at a bad angle and around for much less of the day, the leaves don’t get enough light and warmth to continue this magical process so the leaves die and fall off the tree, and as a result of this death they change color.

Well, it is actually even more interesting than that. Leaves actually do not “change” color, at least not in the way I had thought about it. What actually happens is that as the process of photosynthesis ceases, the chlorophyll dissipates in the leaf, and the green color that it brings slowly drains out and reveals the true colors that were actually there all along. That’s right, all those magical colors, those intensely bright reds and burnt umbers, those sharp yellows and smooth oranges that end up painting landscapes across the country were there all along, they were just concealed within all that green. And in the process of it dying away it reveals the true beauty within. As Mr. Safi put it: “That’s the secret: there is no turning, no changing. There’s only the death of what has been masking the colors inside. The beauty has been there all along. And we as human beings are like this. Each one of us contains hidden jewels inside.”

While the spiritual significance of this natural process was lost on me in high-school it certainly is not now. As someone edging towards the end of the fourth decade of life, I can really relate to that process of letting things die and fall away to reveal what is really underneath. From the beginning we are layered with outside projections and expectations, from our families, cultures, friends. By the time we leave our homes and venture out into the world on our own, we are so often confused about who we really are underneath. It is hard to separate everyone else’s ideas about who we are and should be from what we really want to do with our lives. Eventually, somehow, all those outer expectations must die away so that we can reveal our true colors.

And recently I ran into an essay by author Mark Manson that contained a list of questions that I found really did help me to do exactly that, to separate the things about me that are external and not really about me, from what my heart truly wants, to help me identify my true colors that are revealed when the rest is stripped away. Now he wrote these questions in a, shall we say colorful style, with plenty of f-bombs and R-rated metaphors, so I will attempt to present a distilled and slightly cleaned up version for you today, which I welcome you to puzzle through right along with me, but know also that I will include this list of questions in the Week on the Peak congregational email on Wednesday for you to go deeper with on your own at your own pace over the thanksgiving break should you wish to.

The question I want to start with is one that I really relate to: What is true about you now that would make your eight year old self cry? When we are kids it takes us awhile to learn to play it small and hide our true colors, so think about what you have left behind in your pursuit of maturity that was essential to who you were back then. When I was a kid I was always rounding people up to play a game of kick ball, or to build a fort or have a snow ball fight or one of the dozens of others things we did in my neighborhood. Being in community with other people has always mattered to me, but after college it was really hard to find for a while. It was really painful for me to find myself living on my own, without a group of people to feel really connected to. A big part of my attraction to ministry was how community based it is. But it took me awhile to realize that. What is it for you? Did you have an artistic side that you grew out of? A talent you have neglected or a dream you have convinced yourself was foolish? While not every whim or wish of our childhood holds value for us now, major themes we have lost track of really do.

The next question helps get at this same point; What makes you forget to eat and sleep? What activities do you do that make you completely lose track of time? When I was in seminary getting the degree that would lead me to ordination, I decided to add a second Masters degree, which would require a thesis. Somehow I convinced the school to allow my thesis to be in the form of a documentary film. I had never taken on a project of this scope, and it took me a year to develop, write, film and edit it, but I have never been so absorbed in a project in my life. It was literally that kind of time when Nicole would have to remind me to stop to eat and sleep or else I would go for days without doing anything but working on that film. In the end the documentary was pretty good, but I was clear that it was the story telling, not the film making that I loved. Can you relate to that kind of experience? When some task you took on just swept you away completely? Hold on to that, it’s a clue on the way to finding your purpose.

But of course, sometimes the exact opposite is true. Sometimes the tasks we will have to complete are dreadful. So the next questions is: What struggle or sacrifice are you willing to endure? Because everything is tough sometimes. Just because you find your great purpose, the world will not necessarily lay a clear and easy path at your feet. And some things just are not worth it. But each of us also has some things that just don’t bother us as much as they do others. For me it is chaos. For whatever reason, when everything is going wrong, I naturally stay calm and move to problem solving while others melt down with the crisis. Maybe you are good at handling rejection, or going without sleep, maybe you love meetings, or dare I say, spreadsheets. What tortuous experience isn’t so bad for you? If there are things you don’t mind doing that most other people think are awful, that just might be something to remember as you are figuring out how to unfold your purpose.

And now it starts to get real, because the next question is this: How can you better embarrass yourself? Because the truth is, few things hold us back like our minds ability to invent an embarrassing outcome when our thoughts begin to drift towards the things that move us the most deeply. And the truth that you have probably figured out already is that to some degree that is true. You will make mistakes. There will almost certainly be some embarrassment on your path. But the judgment of other people is the worst reason not to do something. So if there is something on your heart that you dare not touch because of what you think your parents, or partner or colleagues or friends will say about it, I beg you to find a way to bring it out into the world. It is sad and amazing how much energy we spend holding ourselves back from what we know we are born to do because of fear.

But, no matter our fear and embarrassment, as the incredible theologian Rev. Fredrick Buechner said: we are called to be where our deep gladness and the world’s great hunger meet. Which leads me directly to our second to last question: How are you going to save the world? Study after study has shown that for us to get value out of our lives, we must invest in things that are about more than just our own wants and needs. It is literally good for your mental health to help save the world. I have heard it said that if you do not serve something larger than yourself you are likely to simply serve yourself, and ironically, we are not well served by ourselves. Our growth and true satisfaction comes not in attending to our own needs, but to serving others in a way that extends beyond the finite bounds of our own lives.

Which leads me, inevitably, to the final question and appropriately, right up to the edge iof that finite boundary of death. Because just as this inescapable boundary that awaits us all supplies so much of the need for purpose, facing its truth can help us identify ours as well. So the final question is: What do you want your obituary to say? How do you want to be remembered? What is the legacy that you want to leave behind? I like to think of it like this: if my life is a story, what do I want the final moral to be? I see how it begins now, and the trajectory I am on. If that doesn’t look like it is heading towards that conclusion that you would like, its time to change course now.

Omar Safi concluded his reflection on the true colors of leaves by saying that “This fear of letting go of our notion of a limited self is real. We are all afraid of death. Any death. All death. Letting go of this earthly life is frightening. Letting go of any prejudice, any preconceived notion, any notion of identity is a form of death. As more wise sages have told us, we come into this world covered in feces, urine, and blood; we leave it naked covered in a cloth. The mere reflection on our own mortality frightens us. Most of us spend our life in denial, pretending that we are eternally immortal.

What beauty there is in letting go and accepting.
What wonder there is in embracing the colors inside.
What loveliness there is in the death of one color, and the shining through of all the divine colors.
How lovely is this human creature when the divine colors of compassion, kindness, mercy, justice, and forgiveness shine on through.”

So, what is ready to die in you so that your true colors may shine? Amen, and may it be so.