An Extraordinary Ordinary Time
After six months of meeting either virtually or outside, in September our church family met in person, in our church sanctuary for the first time. Being in this space again felt strange, yet comforting. As I sank into the cushion of the familiar pews, I gazed out the tall windows framing the front of the sanctuary and noticed the trees outside, still green and hanging onto the last days of summer.
The oak cross between the windows stood out against the wide green cloth behind it. The communion table, also draped in the green cloth of “Ordinary Time,” seemed anything but ordinary to me, as I recalled walking up to that table last March. There I received the elements of the feast–the bread and the “wine,” and as a church elder, I handed them with bare hands to my fellow church members. With no mask between us, my lips spoke these words: “The body of Christ has been broken for you. The blood of Christ has been shed for you.”
In early March, even though we were in the midst of Lent (the time leading up to Easter), life seemed very ordinary. Since then, it has become anything but. Living through a pandemic is EXTRA-ordinary to say the least.
Although I’m not Catholic, I love that my church (part of the Christian Reformed denomination) follows the seasons and celebrations of the church calendar. Years ago, when my own kids were young, I learned about the circular church year through a puzzle in our children’s worship center.
Here’s a quick lesson on Ordinary Time for those who aren’t familiar. These two seasons comprise the largest part of the church calendar and consist of 33 or 34 Sundays. Considering it’s “ordinary” time, one might think it’s a boring, lifeless season. I mean, there are no advent calendars filled with chocolates or special candles counting the days or weeks leading up to the great celebrations of Christmas and Easter. So, is Ordinary Time just a ho-hum, in-between-the-good-stuff time? The answer is: no.
The word “ordinary” as it refers to the church year, carries a different meaning. According to Dominick Albano’s “Ultimate Guide to Ordinary Time,” Ordinary “simply refers to the ongoing and rhythmical nature of the season. Just like everyday life, there is a rhythm to the days and the weeks.” Think “ordinal,” as in counting or numbers.
In addition, Ordinary Time is often referred to as the growing time. The church uses the color green during this season to signify that growth. Albano points to an explanation by the USCCB that says “Ordinary Time is a time for growth and maturation, a time in which the mystery of Christ is called to penetrate ever more deeply into history until all things are finally caught up in Christ.”
I think back to those trees peeking through the windows on either side of our pulpit. And for that matter, the deciduous trees that surround my backyard, that fill the forests, and that line the backroads and highways of much of the northern hemisphere. These trees have been growing and green for the past six months. We drove by them all summer long, draped in their leafy green garments, and didn’t give them a second thought.
But while they looked quite ordinary to us at the time, there was something quite extraordinary waiting to happen! These ho-hum, plain green leaves have now burst into color! With yellow like butter and brighter than sweet corn; orange like tomatoes, carrots, and sweet potatoes; and red like peppers, beets, and deep sweet wine; our eyes are drawn to this feast with a hunger that can’t be satisfied. There is a mystery in the beauty of these extraordinary autumn days.
It makes me wonder what God is working out in us through this “growing” time; through this extraordinary Ordinary Time. Through the most contentious election season I can recall. Through the peaceful protests and angry riots. Through the arguing and bickering on social media. Through a virus that is taking lives and livelihoods, and changing ordinary days into days that will fill pages of future history books.
Is it possible that God is still at work?
I believe He is. I believe if His people are open to His will, the mystery of Christ will penetrate the pandemic, the Facebook posts, the protests, and yes, even the politics.
Christ is calling each of us to our own growing time through this extraordinary season, this unprecedented time in history. How we reveal the mystery of Christ, or don’t, is up to us.
We can choose to feed the flames of love for our neighbors or fuel the fire of hate.
We can seek to understand others or we can put all of our efforts into being understood.
We can build bridges of peace between parties or we can discount opposing views.
We can value each human as a child of God with thoughts, needs, and emotions, or we can devalue and dehumanize them as simply a representation of the candidate or party they vote for.
What will we–our families, our churches, our communities, our country–look like when these extraordinary, ordinary times are over?
Let’s pray that “all things are finally caught up in Christ,” and that the mystery of God’s love is revealed. Even though we can’t achieve a perfect utopia living in a sinful world, we can work toward redeeming and repairing the relationships we do encounter. We can forgive as we have been forgiven and remember His broken body and shed blood are freely given to all who believe.
We are called to “make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” (Eph. 4:3) When this growing season is over, I hope that we, like the trees on this October day, can burst forth in an autumnal explosion of extraordinary beauty.
