It’s inevitable. Summer’s glory has faded and slanted into autumn’s waning light. We New Englanders feel the change and brace for another winter. We look forward to the first nip of frost, the crunch of a freshly picked apple, the sweet aroma of wood smoke curling upward into the chilling air. Slowly the colors creep into the leaves – flaming crimson, luminous yellow, soft mauve – nature’s dazzling mosaic. Their beauty enchants us. Yet we are staring death in the face. Death in technicolor, but death nonetheless. These blazing colors fade and float helplessly to the ground, soon to lie silent under the coming snow. Winter will come.
We might find it strange that the Apostle Paul referred to the Law (2 Corinthians 3) as “fading glory”. But the Law of Moses is somewhat like autumn. It is a thing of great beauty. Taken in its totality, it describes a perfect human being. We would stand in awe of the person who could keep all 613 commandments, and we would love that person. But as Paul reminds us in Romans 7, even as believers, we are powerless to keep it. In fact the Law was given to prove to us our need of Christ. Like autumn, the fading glory of the Law brought death. In fact, Scripture calls it “the ministry of death”.
But spring will come again. The beauty of autumn is far surpassed by the spine tingling joy we feel at the sight of the first crocus, bravely pushing its way up through the dark soil into the light of day. Warm rains pour down to wake the earth. The April sun caresses our shoulders once again. Each evening, the light lingers a few moments longer as the earth leans further toward the sun. Here is life-giving glory, the glory of the coming summer.
So it is with God’s new covenant in Christ. Jesus is that perfect man, the only One who not only kept but fulfilled the Law. We could never live up to its demands. Just as the glory of spring surpasses autumn’s glory, so does the glory of the Gospel surpass that of the Law. The Cross brings us to the end of all self-improvement programs. We lean back into the power of the completed work of Christ. Here is an invitation to summer, to new life, to transformation.
How does it happen to us as believers? This is the mystery hidden for so many ages, Christ in you, the hope of glory. (Col. 1:27).The Holy Spirit shows us more of Jesus and then little by little, changes us into his likeness. It happens in countless ways, but it does happen. We are being changed “from glory to glory” (2 Cor. 3:18) to become more like Him. We spend time in his presence. We talk with him and his people. It might be through a scripture, a song, a sermon, a friend, or a still small voice in our hearts. The Holy Spirit does what we could never do in our own effort. And we change, we grow, we become more like our Savior. This is the good news of the Gospel. Someday soon, we will see Him as He is, (1 Jn. 3:2) and we will be like Him forever. This is our hope.
So let those leaves tumble down, let winter winds blow. We are alive in Christ, and not a day goes by that He doesn’t walk and talk with us, reminding us of our destiny as children of our Father.