The Good News for Being Ordinary

 

Does anyone really want to be moyen, middle of the pack...ordinary? Being ordinary haunts many of us and even when people excel they may experience what has been dubbed "imposter syndrome" the underlying sense that they aren't special. We don't want ordinary experiences either and there are unlimited sources of information about the latest extraordinary vacation spots with a million Instagram moments shared online. We could live in a perpetual state of FOMO. 

We are coming to the conclusion of Ordinary Time in the liturgical year of the Christian church, roughly six months following the season of Easter to the beginning of Advent. Mercifully and appropriately, we have now included the weeks of Creation Time in September to break up the long haul. The word "ordinary" in this context derives from the ordinal numerals by which week are counted after the Christmas season toward Lent as well as this longer period. Snore. How can we get behind this as Good News? 

Perhaps we need to give a little more credit to the ordinary in our lives. Recently Ruth and I had a conversation about the month of November. She really appreciates it and I don't. The leaves and flowers are gone, paddling season has all but ended, the days are wan and short. What's to like? 

Ruth savours this oasis of time between the relentless activity of earlier seasons and the ramped up pace leading to Christmas. Turn on the fireplace, curl up with a book, take care of the little things (yes, we are retired). We can still go for walks and the occasional cycle on a pleasant day. We did just that yesterday, swishing through the Fall leaves and listening to the clatter of bare branches. She makes a point worth pondering.

This lengthy Ordinary Time was originally meant to consider the life of Jesus and what it means to be disciples. I don't know that there a lot of congregations that emphasize this intentionally and here in Canada there is the reality of sparse attendance during the Summer months. Yet we carry on, hopefully been fed spirituality from week to week. Today is the sacrament of communion in our congregation and while this may seem less than a heavenly banquet there is the mystical nourishment of bread and wine/juice. 

Should we celebrate the ordinary? Some of the most remarkable people I've met through my lifetime might be perceived as ordinary yet they have profoundly touched my life, including influencing my spiritual growth. 

I'm not sure that I'll sing the praises of ordinariness just yet, but there is a case to be made.