According to the Church calendar, we are in the season known as Ordinary Time. The 28 weeks are marked by … well, not much. No angels and wise men, empty tomb, tongues of flame, no ascending Messiah. It’s not called ordinary because it’s boring, however. The name actually comes from the root word “ordinal;” we are counting the weeks following Pentecost, all the way to Advent.

I’m more than comfortable with it just being plain old ordinary, though. It’s Holy Spirit season, when we are reminded that God is with us exactly where we are, not just in mountaintop experiences. I don’t know about you, but I don’t live a life of banners and fanfares, and life certainly is not always a celebration. Loving those enriching holy days as we do, we now have the opportunity to be Spirit-fed in our everyday living. Particularly here in Washington, we are often braced for the next dramatic turn of events. We may miss the gift of uneventful days to recharge in every way, including spiritually.

I left my office early today. Not in the best if moods, I was struggling, so I came home and scrubbed my kitchen floor. And I mean down-on-hands-and-knees scrubbing. In the silence of an empty house, applying myself to a simple task that humans have done for thousands of years, I started to feel at peace. As often happens, a bit of music started playing in my head as I worked.

From Bernstein’s Mass:
Sing God a simple song:
Lauda, Laudē
Make it up as you go along:
Lauda, Laudē
Sing like you like to sing.
God loves all simple things,
For God is the simplest of all,
For God is the simplest of all.

Whether we are scrubbing floors or sipping morning coffee or waiting for sleep at night, we can be quietly vulnerable to the workings of the Spirit. God longs to be in relationship with us, it is indeed that simple. Ordinary Time is a gift. Let us always keep an empty chair at our soul’s kitchen table for the heavenly guest. Our ordinary lives can be transformed.