Our world seems far from ordinary. Countries are in conflict. Social contracts are in tatters. Global climate change threatens millions of people. Despite this, when I review today’s liturgical readings, I am reminded that we are in the 34th week of ‘ordinary time’. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, held no special significance. Today, Black Friday, is not on the Christian calendar radar. Spiritual solemnity, and feasts of Biblical significance, begin in December. That season starts on Sunday.
This shouldn’t be surprising: the rituals and rhythms of religious calendars have their roots in millennial-aged traditions, not the century or decade-framed view of the modern secular world. Native Americans and Pilgrims did not break bread at the time of Christ. The cycle of the sun did not rotate around consumer purchases, the gross domestic product, and economic indicators when the prophets and founding influences of the major religions walked the earth.
Still, it does seem a bit outdated to call this the 34th week of “ordinary time”. Sure, a little research informs me that this is a mere numbering convention, that the word “ordinary” derives from “ordinal”, and that we aren’t meant to see this and the other thirty-three so-called ordinary weeks as unimportant but rather as continuous opportunities for spiritual engagement separate from the special weeks of Advent, Passover, and Easter. I shouldn’t get caught up on a simple word like ordinary.
But I do. And I am. I don’t feel reassured by an etymological explanation regarding the reason for the terminology.
Because this is not an ordinary time. Too much depends on our recognition of how unique a time this is. The future of our existence, near and distant, hinges on our ability to appreciate the pivot point in history on which we stand.
No, the sky is not falling. But it could, if we don’t care for our environment better.
No, society is not crumbling. But it could, if we don’t care for each other better.
No, the dream of becoming something more is not lost. But it could elude us, if we don’t recognize the fundamental role that spirit plays in our lives.
And that last one, the risk of not realizing our potential, is what challenges me, deep down, when I dive into my discomfort with the word ‘ordinary’. I have not been a religious man, at least from the perspective of church attendance and steadfast adherence to doctrine and dogma. Although raised in faith, I have wandered. However, like most people, there has always been a yearning for grounding, for understanding, for acceptance by a force and purpose beyond the physical.
I do not want today to be ordinary; I do not want tomorrow to be ordinary. I do not want you to be ordinary; I do not want to be ordinary myself.
I want today and tomorrow to be special. I want you and me to be special. I want us to achieve something positive and special together.
To do this, we must reach – beyond our limited mindsets and abilities – to the “extra”ordinary. We must strive for the special, not just during particular seasons of the year or liturgical cycle, but instead during every week of the year.
We have work to do! And that work needs all of us, body, mind, AND spirit. Only then can we realize the wonders that are possible when we, as individuals, look past ourselves and see our collective potential.
Which makes me stop – and listen – to what I have found inside the simplicity of a single liturgical calendar phrase. Perhaps there is more to certain traditions than I understand. I suppose I’ll keep reading. And be thankful for the freedom to learn about time and faith.