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It's mid January, but no matter how many times I vacuum, I still find Christmas tree needles in my living room carpet. Those little suckers are stubborn.
But, for the most part, Christmas is behind us for another year. The ornaments are packed up and back in storage, the stockings tucked away in their boxes and already the first hints of spring are popping up in department stores.
The church calendar calls this Ordinary Time.
Well, doesn't THAT sound exciting? Seriously, the characters in our nativity sets are relegated to the attic - even the wise men (those late comers to the party) have disappeared into the sands of time. The next High Holy Day will be Easter.
What do we, as Christians, do with Ordinary Time? What even happens on that dusty road tucked between cradle and cross - birth and resurrection?
Let's imagine.
It's Ordinary Time, and somewhere in Bethlehem an innkeeper yawns as he pours early morning feed into a trough. As the cows and donkeys press in around him, does he sometimes think of the young couple he let shelter there and the newborn that slept in this very manger and wonder what happened to them? And those rough looking shepherds who showed up in the middle of the night - he had never understood what that was about,
It's Ordinary Time, and somewhere in Egypt, a young boy with dark skin and curly black hair laughs with his friends as they play leap frog in the sand. He teases his younger brother and pulls his sisters' hair.
It's Ordinary Time, and somewhere in Nazareth a young couple grow older. They are busy with children and work and home. Days, maybe weeks pass and they don't think of it at all - the angel, the shepherds, those regal men from the east with their expensive gifts and beautiful clothing. But often, at night, as they lay in bed, they whisper to each other and marvel what it all means.
It's Ordinary Time, and somewhere in Jerusalem the same parents frantically search for their son. When they find him, they scold (wouldn't you?). They must have been baffled. This same adolescent who has to be reminded to feed the lambs is in the temple. And he's the center of attention - in a group of spiritual teachers, no less.
It's Ordinary Time, and somewhere building a wall or repairing an oxen yoke, a sweaty woodworker pauses in his labor because he hears the voice of his Father. It's time.
He wipes his brow, wraps his tools and finds his brothers. He tells them to take care of his mother. He steps out of his doorway and pauses. Then he walks out onto the road.
It's time to change the world.
And for us, life can be extraordinary.
