Now that Easter is over, and we have experienced both the sadness of loss and the joy of resurrection, we have time to look back over the past 40 days and ask ourselves if we are the same people we were back on Ash Wednesday.
The Easter season is not yet over, and we still have time to make changes before Pentecost Sunday on May 27. After that, we enter the period known in liturgical circles as “ordinary time.” Does that mean that if we plan to do something extraordinary, we have limited time in which to do it? I hardly think so, not if we accept the idea that every day that we awaken is indeed an extraordinary day and every time we act on behalf of others we are doing something extraordinary. When the extraordinary becomes ordinary, we have made remarkable progress toward becoming the people Christ meant us to be.
We like to define ourselves as “ordinary people.” We rather like to blend in with everyone else; we are often embarrassed to be seen as different in any way. Thus, ordinary time is somewhat comforting, less demanding. It’s almost akin to vacation time, time out if you will. It’s also a good time for us to think about where we’ve been and where we’re going. It’s an opportunity to take inventory, not of what we’ve accumulated but of what we plan to do with what we have. Have we used our talents in the service of others? Have we spent our time wisely? Have we demanded more than our share of limited resources in the elusive pursuit of pleasure?
Most of us do not plan to act selfishly, but we get caught up in the web of entitlement. The belief that we worked for what we have and therefore we deserve what we can get is entrenched in our psyches and spurs us on to reach for even greater rewards.
Perhaps we are unaware that there are many among us who work equally hard but for whom the rewards are always beyond reach. They are not lazier or less intelligent or less ambitious; maybe they are less fortunate or less connected. Perhaps they have other priorities, and success is not their primary goal. They may be sublimely happy with the lives they have and therefore have no need to strive toward a higher plateau. They are already where they want to be, and surely that’s an achievement worth noting.
As one of the ordinary people, the 99 percent of the population in the current parlance, I like to think that I am not exactly the same person I was before Lent began. I am probably no better, and I hope no worse — but I am different. As a matter of fact, each day I am a little bit different because I have 24 hours to learn new things, meet new people, and confront new situations. If all that doesn’t effect change, I’m just not paying attention.
As we move closer to Ordinary Time, pay close attention and ask yourself if you sense changes from day to day. Maybe we can all make a difference in the world if we recognize that we are capable of becoming the people who can make changes. Even if just one of us is able to help another of us, we will have met the challenge. Ordinary? I don’t think so.
Ann Dow writes from West Deptford.