Ordinary Time
Exploring the Longest Season of the Church Year
“How are you, Joshua?”
“Um, I don’t know. Bored.”
This is how I answered the mayfly question when it was posed to me on Friday night. Bored doesn’t mean bad, necessarily, but it does mean bored. I’m bored because I go to work five days a week, and I struggle, like most Americans in their 30s and 40s, to find meaning in what I do. I come home, make and eat dinner with Katrina, we watch a show, walk our dog, go to bed, then repeat the process over again the next day. Saturdays and Sundays break that monotony a bit, but each Saturday more or less looks like every other Saturday, and each Sunday does the same. Again, and I want to stress this, bored does not equal bad. The weeks that turn into months that turn into years are shot through with glimmers and graces and good times. I enjoy cooking, especially when I’m cooking for someone else, namely Katrina. I enjoy pulling weeds from my garden, though it’s tedious at times. I enjoy walking our dog together, at least when I’m not overly tired. The sameness of our days allows Katrina and I to be together often, and that’s a blessing I’m truly grateful for, knowing that not every couple is afforded that same opportunity.
Nevertheless, I am the kind of person who likes the challenge of novelty. I get excited when I’m doing or experiencing new things or going to new places. When I was younger, I thought I would live out of a suitcase or something similar to that, and while I am grateful to have a sense of stability in my life now, that wanderlust still lives in me. When I say that I’m bored, I mean that I haven’t done or seen anything new in a while, and though I’m currently finding new things to be excited about—like photography—I’m learning to enjoy what’s boring and monotonous.
Ordinary Time
Today, the church calendar flips over to Ordinary Time, the longest season of the church year. In the Anglican Tradition, Ordinary Time begins a week after Trinity Sunday, which ends the Paschal (Easter) season. Beginning in early Spring, the Paschal season starts with Lent, which is a time of focused prayer, repentance, and fasting in preparation for Holy Week. Holy Week consists of seven days wherein we remember the Passion of Jesus, with specific events occurring each day. The last three days are especially important. Maundy Thursday is the night Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper and washes his disciples’ feet. Good Friday is the day Jesus is crucified, dies, and is buried. Holy Saturday is a paradoxical day of mourning and rest. There are church services on each of these nights, with the Easter Vigil beginning in the evening service on Saturday night. Sunday is the Holy Passover, the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. This begins the season of Eastertide, where each week is a celebration of Jesus’ resurrection until Pentecost when we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit to live in and empower the Church. The Sunday after Pentecost is Trinity Sunday when we commemorate the revelation of the Triune nature of God to the Church. This whole season is preceded by the Christmas Season, which begins with Advent in late Fall and ends with Epiphany on January 6th (or on Candlemass if your church is really Anglican).1
The clergy wear different colors during the seasons, cycling through purple, black, red, and white, but when Ordinary Time starts, we switch to green, and it stays that way for about twenty-eight weeks. Ordinary Time goes through the long, hot summer days, and the garden is a perfect icon of Ordinary Time. The seeds we planted in early Spring have already begun to grow, and we’re passed the excitement of watching them pop up out of the soil. Now we are waiting. They’re not ready to start fruiting yet, and our task is to tend and water, tend and water, tend and water. Ordinary Time is a time of pulling weeds from the ground and ticks from our skin.
Though it’s often not as exciting as other seasons, we can’t ignore the work of Ordinary Time. If we do, our crops will fail, and we won’t be ready for the seasons of fasting and rejoicing.
Ordinary Time is filled with a lot of tedious, boring work, but if we have eyes to see, it’s also filled with countless, small beauties. The honey bees doing their work among the flowers, the cooing of the mourning dove, sitting in the house with your spouse reading or watching TV, or a cookout with friends.
Day by Day
The Old Testament reading for the first Sunday in Ordinary Time this year is the Ten Commandments in Deuteronomy.2 In this passage, Moses is reminding the Israelites of the covenant God made with them at Horeb (Mt. Sinai), which is summed up, more or less, in the words of the Ten Commandments. At the end of the chapter, Moses tells them, “You all must guard that which Yahweh your God has commanded you. Do not turn to the right or to the left. You shall walk precisely on the path that Yahweh your God has commanded you, in order that you might live, and that it may go well with you, and that you may live long in the land you are to possess” (Deut. 5:32-33). The Ten Commandments, and all of Torah, were God’s instructions for living in the land. They were meant to teach the Israelites how to live lives of righteousness and justice in the push and pull of everyday life.
It’s fitting, then, that Ordinary Time begins with the Ten Commandments. During the High Seasons of Christmas and Easter, we’re supposed to be focused on the big events, we’re supposed to fast with our communities and celebrate with our families, but that isn’t a sustainable way of life. When the excitement and mystery of the seasons fade, we still have to get up in the morning and follow Jesus. I struggle to keep up with my prayers and Scripture reading most during Ordinary Time, but it’s during this season that it’s most imperative I do so. Why? Because I don’t have the emotional boost of the High Holidays to keep me moving. The reading of the Ten Commandments is a reminder to us as we begin Ordinary Time that we are Christians even in the monotony of everyday life.
During the hot summer months, I pull up weeds and water the garden nearly every day. There’s always something to do, even if it’s a small task. That upkeep is important to the life of the plants I am hoping will provide vegetables for us to eat later in the year. In a similar fashion, there are things to do every day in our lives that maintain our spiritual health. A Psalm or two in the morning, a mid-week fast, regular Scripture readings, daily prayers—all these things are relatively small practices that will lead to fruit in time. But it’s not just about the individual person. You’ll notice the Ten Commandments are community-forward. They’re not really about you and your relationship with God, but you and your relationship with the community, of which God is a part. This is a good time to mention that the Sermon on the Mount is, in a way, like Torah for Christians, and we can meditate on how the Sermon teaches us to live in our communities as well.
Today, when there’s not much going on, is the day to let our lights shine in the world, putting on display the love, kindness, and goodness of our Father in heaven. Today, on a day that is no more special than any other day, is the perfect day to live peacefully and truthfully. Today, when it’s too hot to do much of anything, is a great day to give someone an encouraging word, or help your neighbor, or say a prayer, or give money to someone in need, or fast a meal, or honor your mother, or ask God to bless your enemy, or guard against lust and jealousy, or reconcile with a family member, or sing a worship song, or pick a squash bug from the vine so the plant doesn’t die.
When I water my mongogo plants in early May, I am not expecting to eat squash right away. Definitely not by the end of the month, and probably not in June either. Will I get some squash in July? I hope so. I transplanted them kind of late, so I’m not exactly sure. The point is, all the work I do today doesn’t reach fruition for a while, and such is life. If I want squash in July or August, I need to make sure I take care of my plants in March, April, and May. If I want my Christmas and Easter seasons to be more than starting from square one, I need to tend to my soul regularly throughout Ordinary Time. This is about more than just having a good Christmas or Easter, though. This is about my whole life in God and in my community. Doing the tedious, small work will lead eventually to a good life.
In closing, I leave you with the first Proper, the first liturgical prayer of Ordinary Time, and pray that you will discern by the Holy Spirit the small tasks that will lead to good fruit in your life.
O God, the strength of all who put their trust in you: Mercifully accept our prayers, and because, through the weakness of our mortal nature, we can do no good thing without you, grant us the help of your grace to keep your commandments, that we may please you in will and deed; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.
Music by SoulProdMusic
Technically, there is a shorter Ordinary Time, about six weeks, between the Christmas and Easter seasons, but because of how short it is and the nature of the seasons that surround it, it’s not as ordinary as the 28-week Ordinary Time.
Deuteronomy 5:6-21.
“Ordinary Time is a time of pulling weeds from the ground and ticks from our skin.”
Oof… Definitely feels exactly like that.
Needed this.