The End of the Ordinary
In the Godly Play room (Room 8), there is a felt calendar marking the seasons of the Christian year. There are little triangles of purple for Lent, white for Eastertide, and red for Pentecost. By far the largest portion of the pie-shaped calendar is green, for Ordinary Time. Ordinary Time begins the day after Pentecost and continues until Christ the King Sunday, which is the final Sunday before the Advent season begins. After twenty-six weeks (yep, you read that correctly), Ordinary Time grinds to a halt on the Feast of Christ the King, and the Advent note rings out over the congregation.
But in fact, the Advent note sounded weeks ago, on All Saints’ Sunday. It took years of preaching the lectionary for me to notice this trend, but now the weeks between All Saints’ and Advent I are some of my favorite weeks of the year. Starting with All Saints’ Sunday, the lectionary readings become a shade darker. Here are some examples from this year (Year A):
There’s the admonition to the wayward prophets in Micah: “Thus says the Lord…it shall be night to you, without vision, and darkness to you, without divination. The sun shall go down on the prophets, and the day shall be black over them; the seers shall be disgraced, and the diviners put to shame; they shall all cover their lips, for there is no answer from God” (Micah 3:5-7).
Then the stirring parable of the Ten Virgins, which closes with the Bridegroom’s shuddering statement, “Truly, I say to you, I do not know you” (Mt. 25:12, emphasis mine).
This coming Sunday, we’ll hear Paul’s exhortation to the Thessalonians: “Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, ‘There is peace and security,’ then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape” (1 Thess. 5:1-3).
And finally, on Christ the King Sunday, we will hear the parable of the goats and the lambs, which concludes, “And [the wicked] will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life” (Mt. 25:46).
While the kids are out jingle-belling, the soundtrack of the Church during this last stretch of Ordinary Time is haunted with themes of damnation and judgment. Why? Why can’t the Church just get with the Hallmark seasonal programming and deck some halls, already?
Because Jesus is coming.
As Ordinary Time draws to a close, the message of Advent becomes the central feature of our readings and our prayers: Jesus is coming—first as a babe in Bethlehem, and at the last, as the King and Judge of the nations. Advent approaches with a warning label: “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (Mt. 25:13).
As Fr. John preached last Sunday, if you believe that Jesus is Lord, if you have professed faith in Him and received His Holy Spirit, you are prepared for his coming. There is nothing more you need to do to be prepared. And yet, this season invites us to take inventory of our lives, filtering everything through the reality of Jesus’s return. As we reach the end of Ordinary Time, ask yourself: Are there other messages trying to take supremacy in my heart and life? What in my life is feigning as peace and security, distracting me from the peace that surpasses all understanding? Am I trusting in the King’s judgment, or am I taking matters into my own hands, condemning those who disagree with me, fault me, or put me to shame?
Friends, fear not. Jesus is coming. Jesus is coming to set the record straight, proclaiming a message that knocks false prophets on their backs: “The Kingdom of God is at hand!” Jesus is coming into a world utterly unprepared for his arrival, a world full of empty lamps and clueless lamp-holders. Jesus is coming like a thief in the night, replacing all the peace and security the world has to offer with his perfect shalom. Jesus is coming as a Lamb to be slain for a world full of goats. Jesus is coming.
In Christ,
Dcn. Bree