It is Ordinary Time in the church –

The season without festivals,

without fanfare,

without high holy days

or the weeks of

preparation.

planning,

and penitence

that lead up to them.

It is Ordinary Time in the church –

the season after

all of the major seasons 

and celebrations are done –

after the waiting

and the birthing

and the seeking

and the baptizing

and the transfiguring

and the tempting

and suffering

and the dying 

and the rising

and the appearing

and the ascending

and the Spirit-pouring-out.

It is the season after

the Incarnation

has been promised

and completed –

in both

literal 

and liturgical time.

It is Ordinary Time in the church

the season when

the Gospel readings

take us into

the ordinary days

of Jesus’ life

and ministry

with ordinary followers,

encountering ordinary people

in their ordinary struggles

and their ordinary needs –

questions and confusions,

prejudices and problems – 

sickness and death,

belief –

and unbelief,

societal systems

and religious rules.

It is Ordinary Time in the church –

the time when 

the ordinary every-day-ness

of Jesus

intersects

and connects

and re-directs

the ordinary every-day-ness 

of our own lives –

often in ways

we do not

expect.

It is Ordinary Time in the church –

the time when we are reminded that

the “behold I make all things new”

is sometimes realized 

in the present tense

and all too often,

not.

 

It is Ordinary Time in the church –

the time of living between 

no longer

and not yet –

no longer without hope,

not yet without despair,

no longer in bondage,

not yet free,

no longer rejected

not yet accepted.

It is Ordinary Time in the church –

and I feel it

in my bones

and spirit

and my very being

Ordinary –

as in 

regular,

everyday,

commonplace,

usual –

normal –

And unlike the declaration 

of the Divine

upon all things

at the dawn of Creation –

it is not good.

It is Ordinary Time in the church,

the time when it is still

regular,

everyday,

commonplace,

normal –

for Queer Rostered Leaders –

and candidates for ordination

to still bear the burden of bigotry

upon our shoulders

and in our hearts

and within our bodies

and to our livelihoods.

In a church with 

hundreds of parishes

without Rostered Leaders –

and counting –

in a church that

struggles to convince people

that God just might be calling them

to ordained ministry,

in a church that is facing

the first generation of its young adults

to not return 

after they have 

wondered and wandered,

examined and explored,

rebuffed and rejected 

the church and all that it entails—

In this church 

Queer Rostered Leaders

and candidates for ordination

still wait longer,

face more obstacles,

have fewer options,

and face more barriers

to living into the call that

God has placed upon our hearts

and that the church

in its systems

has affirmed

but still struggles to actually

fully embrace

and embody

in practice.

It is Ordinary Time in the church –

the time when synod colleagues

still say things like,
“Well, there would be limited places for you to serve here

because of who you love.”

And pastoral colleagues say things like,

just last week, in fact –

“Many (in this congregation)

Would struggle with your choice of spouse.”

And mentors say things like,

“These things take time.

It’s just the way it is in these places.”

And with such words

the burden of bigotry is placed

not on the system 

or on the congregation

or on the people

who consider 

not

the gifts for ministry

or the proclamation of the Gospel

or the call of the Spirit –

but on the Queer person

or their spouse –

seriously?

to accept

or understand

or at least live with 

that’s just the way it is.

It is Ordinary Time in the church.

And yes,

I am so grateful for the strides that have been made –

for the boundaries that have been moved,

for the bridges that have been built,

for the walls that have begun to crumble,

for the growing number of people and congregations

who proclaim

and live

that God’s liberating love 

is indeed for all –

no exceptions,

without question

or reserve.

I am so grateful

for the growing number of people and congregations

who proclaim

and live

that we are all baptized in the same waters,

we are all covered with the same Word,

we are all anointed with the same oil,

we are all marked with the same cross,

we are all sealed with the same Holy Spirit,

we are all claimed,

named,

and called

by the same Jesus who is Holy Love

for all –

with all –

filling all –

accompanying all –

loving all –

and yet,

and yet –

I long for an Ordinary Time in the church

when it is truly

radical love

that defines 

and drives

and determines

both who

and how we are

with one another

and for the sake of the world.

It is not lost on me

that Ordinary Time in the church

almost always begins

at nearly the same time

as Pride Month –

a time to celebrate

the beauty

and delight

of LGBTQ+ people

living

open,

joy-filled,

authentic lives,

even as we

acknowledge 

the

past,

present,

and ongoing struggles

to do so.

It is not lost on me

that when the church

is draped in green –

not a bad color by any means –

a color of life

and growth

and hope –

at a time when the church

is draped in green,

Pride

colors the world

with the rainbow –

with every color that there is,

with the entire spectrum

of beauty –

and it is good,

so very GOOD!

And I wonder,

I wonder 

what it would be like

for Ordinary Time in the church –

Ordinary Time

that is both 

liturgical time

and all times –

to be known by

and to embody

such

an expansive beauty

that we 

need not hide behind

who you love

or

the way things are

because indeed,

all things have been made new.

After all,

isn’t that our call

as followers of Jesus –

to be Jesus –

Divine Love Embodied –

in Ordinary Time in the church

and for the world?

Wouldn’t it be something

if that was

regular,

everyday,

commonplace,

normal?

Wouldn’t it be something

if that was Ordinary Time?