October in Maine makes it difficult to ignore the changing seasons. The mornings are cooler, the days are shorter, and leaves that were green only a few weeks ago are beginning to turn. There is beauty in this season precisely because things do not remain the same. For the past several Sundays, Jesus has spoken to us through parables about a vineyard. We have reflected on the need to expand our vision: to resist comparing ourselves with others, to recognize the gifts God has already given us, and to see our brothers and sisters more generously. But comparison can narrow our vision in another way. We can compare the present with the past. Recently at daily Mass, we heard the famous words of Ecclesiastes: “There is an appointed time for everything.” There is a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to build and a time to tear down. Ecclesiastes reminds us that human life unfolds in seasons. Some are joyful; others are difficult. Some call us to build; others require us to let go. Faith teaches us to receive each season attentively and ask: What is God doing now? That is a question I believe we need to begin asking together at St. Michael Parish. Our parish is blessed with six beautiful churches, a Catholic school, 8 cemeteries, halls, rectories, and other buildings. These places carry generations of prayer, sacrifice, and memory. But many were built during a very different season of Catholic life, when our communities had much larger practicing Catholic populations. That season has changed. Today, approximately 1,300 people attend Mass across our six churches on an average weekend. Over the past several decades, demographic changes have made it increasingly difficult to maintain numerous facilities while also investing in faith formation, youth ministry, outreach, and evangelization. Since the staffing changes we experienced in January, this reality has become especially clear to me. A tremendous amount of staff time and parish resources is devoted to maintaining aging buildings and responding to problems: a boiler fails, a roof leaks, plumbing needs repair, another system reaches the end of its useful life. Much of this work is necessary. We have inherited these places, and we have a responsibility to care for them. But we must also ask what God is calling us to do with them in this season. Today’s Gospel gives us a challenging image. Once again, there is a vineyard. The landowner plants it carefully and entrusts it to tenants. But the vineyard does not belong to them. It belongs to the landowner. So does the Church. St. Michael Parish does not belong to us. It belongs to Christ. Our churches, resources, traditions, time, and talents have been entrusted to us so that His vineyard might bear fruit. The question, then, cannot simply be: How do we preserve everything exactly as it has been? We must also ask: How can everything God has entrusted to us best serve the mission He has given us today? The Church has always faced this question. The Second Vatican Council called us to discern the “signs of the times” in the light of the Gospel. Circumstances change; the mission does not. Our responsibility is to discern how to carry out that mission faithfully in the season God has given us. I do not pretend to know all the answers, and I do not think anxiety about the future will help us find them. But I do believe this is a season for honest reflection, prayer, and conversation. What has God entrusted to St. Michael Parish today? Where is life growing? Where are our resources being consumed maintaining what was built for another season? What opportunities for evangelization, formation, worship, service, and community might we pursue if more of our energy were available for mission? Autumn reminds us that change is not necessarily the enemy of life. Sometimes letting go makes room for what comes next. The tree that releases its leaves is not dying; it is preparing for another season. Perhaps that can be our prayer this autumn: Lord, help us recognize the season we are in. Free us from nostalgia for what was and anxiety about what might be. Give us gratitude for what You have entrusted to us, wisdom to care for it faithfully, and courage to cultivate Your vineyard so that it may bear fruit today—and in whatever season You are preparing for us next.