When Ordinary Time Is Anything But

ORDINARY TIME RARELY is. These texts in July fall in “ordinary” time on the Christian liturgical calendar, that time after the holy days of Lent, Easter, and Pentecost. I often think about the irony of this time being designated “ordinary,” since rarely is it ordinary or mundane. There usually is something going on in the world that demands our attention or causes us concern. Certainly, that is true in this season of the coronavirus. So “ordinary,” as we know it, is hardly an apt term.

The term “ordinary,” which comes from the “ordinal” numerals by which the weeks are counted, reflects that we are not in the season of “high holy” days, except for an occasional recognition of a saint or significant moment in history for the church writ large. Ordinary time is just under half of the Sundays on the calendar. It is the time when Christians recount the stories of their faith, across the biblical canon, in order to strengthen their commitments to discipleship and to study and reflect on what it means to be the people of God, both in one’s own life and in the community’s formation.

These Sundays in July capture the day-to-day nature of our faith. The parables in Matthew give us glimpses of God’s reign, tantalizing us. Paul’s letters remind us that sometimes we really struggle to become who God created us to be. The texts call us into curiosity, into covenant, into commitment, and into community. It is an extraordinary challenge.

July 5

Discerning Our Way

Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67; Psalm 45:10-17; Romans 7:15-25; Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

AT FIRST BLUSH, the Hebrew Bible texts for this week are all about finding and celebrating one’s mate for life. Abraham’s servant (Genesis 24:34) goes to find a wife for Isaac among Abraham’s kindred. Since the servant doesn’t know who they are, he must come to some way to discern. How will he know? He prays for success. He prays that the woman he finds will be willing to leave her family. And, like the bride in Psalm 45, Rebekah does indeed return with him. Here we read the end of the trip, but Genesis 24 begins with the servant’s angst about how to know.

How to know. These stories show us at least one way to know: Pray and look for signs. But looking for signs does not always work. Maybe it worked here because the servant did not ask for himself, but for Abraham’s sake. Maybe were he looking for himself, his own desires might get in the way. Perhaps that is what Romans 7 points toward. We are burdened with human nature that struggles to do the right thing, to find what the right thing is to do. Paul says, “nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh” (verse 18). These words could be jarring to us. They are to me. I want to believe that we are fundamentally good at discernment, that our “flesh” (Paul’s word for our selfish nature) doesn’t drive our desires. But if I am honest, I must confess that it does.

The “warring” nature is shown in Jesus’ parable. The children, Jesus says, taunt one another. Fasting or feasting, Jesus says, the generation criticized the religious ones around them—John the Baptist, fasting; the Son of the Human One, feasting (Matthew 11:18-19). We’ve just left Lenten fasting and Eastertide feasting. How do we discern what is right? How do we strengthen our faithfulness when our human nature resists? These texts push us to consider the way God leads us and refreshes us along the way.

July 12

I Swear

Genesis 25:19-34; Psalm 119:105-112; Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

“BE CAREFUL WHAT you say,” my mother admonished. “You can’t take words back, no matter how much you wish you could.” My mother repeated these warnings so much to us as children that they are ingrained in my thinking. I repeated them to my own children, and they use them with theirs. You can’t take it back. But how often have I uttered words I immediately regretted or made promises that I couldn’t or didn’t keep. People often make rash vows when they feel distressed. In the case of Esau, it was hunger. “Famished!” he exclaimed (Genesis 25:30). I don’t know that it is always wrong to “swear an oath,” as Jacob demanded of Esau to give up his birthright for a bowl of food, but Esau’s decision certainly seems foolish. We ought to consider the unintended price to pay when we make rash statements or vows. This is true, even when we swear an oath to observe God’s ordinances, as in Psalm 119:106. The difference for the psalmist, of course, is the acknowledgement that the vow is because God’s decrees are our heritage and birthright, “the joy” of our hearts (verse 111).

Keeping vows requires God’s help and for us to lean into our relationship with the Holy. Our human inclinations, what Paul calls “our flesh,” cannot keep faith with our promises. We need strength that comes from and in our relationship with Christ (Romans 8:3). And, so we must deepen our roots in Christ. The parable of the sower sharpens that image. While the psalmist encourages us to meditate on God’s word, Matthew wants us to ensure that our lives are prepared to live that word (13:23). Be careful what you say, then, becomes “be careful who you are.” Weed well so that your words and your life produce the gospel. First in your own life, and then in your witness in the world.

July 19

Dreaming of God

Genesis 28:10-19; Psalm 139:1-12, 23-24; Romans 8:12-25; Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

MY GRANDFATHER BUILT a cinder-block house on his farm when he and my grandmother first married. As a child, I learned to climb to the roof by a tree and an antenna pole. From there, I’d watch the clouds or stars. My grandparents’ rooftop was a “thin place,” a place so close to heaven that the veil between earth and the divine realm seemed suspended. I dreamed and imagined on that roof. I also believe God planted the purposes of my life there. “Thin place” is an old Celtic Christian term to describe what I experienced on the roof, and what Jacob experienced as he slept with a stone pillow and dreamed of a ladder between the heavens and earth (Genesis 28:11-12). Jacob awakened afraid and in awe. That is how I feel about my grandparents’ roof—a place that witnessed all God was calling me to. It gave witness to my belief that God saw me and knew me (Psalm 139:1).

God’s persistent and pursuing knowledge of us and our ways has come to be a comfort to me. When I feel as if I am stumbling in the dark, I am reminded that for God, “the night is as bright as the day” (verse 12). God’s spirit bears witness that we are God’s children (Romans 8:16). Being God’s child does not eliminate suffering. But knowing that God knows us and makes openings for us may give comfort when we are in labor pains to see our dreams or best selves come into being (Romans 8:22-23).

I should tell you that sometimes I got bit by ants or stung by bees on my grandparents’ roof. God’s presence does not actually preclude struggle or even evil. The parable of the weeds bears witness to that truth. I don’t know how evil works, but this parable says it’s deceptive and creeps in the night. But remember, night is like day to God. One day those who dream with God will be freed from evil’s influence. We will “shine like the sun,” Matthew says.

July 26

How to Wait

Genesis 29:15-28; Psalm 105:1-11, 45; Romans 8:26-39; Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

WAITING IS NOT my superpower. I have never been convinced of the adage “Anything worth having is worth waiting for.” But some of the best of life requires time. Good soup needs time to simmer. The parables in Matthew 13 teach us that a valuable, precious relationship with God is worth pursuing. Metaphors matter here. Whether trusting that the smallest action will produce something sturdy in our lives (verse 52) or learning to believe that just because you cannot see it, doesn’t mean that God’s not at work or that our smallest effort for good can have an impact (verse 33). I like these parables for their God imagery, metaphors that are familiar but push toward more than we can imagine. Whether Bakerwoman or Merchant or Fisher, these images give us many aspects of God’s desire and longing for us. They also provoke our own longing. As the psalmist invites, they push us to “seek God’s presence continually” (Psalm 105:4). The God who loves us like these parables suggest is the same God who does not withhold good from us, Romans 8:32 declares. Therein is the gospel.

If God did not withhold God’s own son, why would we believe God would withhold any good from us, even if we must wait for it? God is not like Laban who withholds from Jacob his beloved Rachel, first for seven years, then for another week after he has been tricked (Genesis 29:18, 27). We can trust that God is true to God’s own covenant, both with us and with God’s self. When we remember the blessings God has given, praise wells up, and we remember that the secret to our waiting is to know that God keeps covenant with us (Psalm 105:6). Romans 8:38-39 proclaims that, whether waiting, working, struggling, dancing, or dying, we belong to God. That truth may not make waiting easy, but it will make it possible in faith.