Though we’ve been observing the liturgical season of
Ordinary Time for about three full weeks, this is the first Sunday since
Pentecost that the priest has worn the liturgical color green.
Ordinary time is one liturgical season, divided into two
periods: the first period between the Christmas Season and Lent, and then the
second period, after the Feast of Pentecost.
This second period of Ordinary Time is much longer than the first, and
will last all the way to the beginning of Advent in late November.
Traditionally, the color green is the color of hope. Whenever the theological virtue hope was
depicted in paintings, she could easily be identified because she would be the
lady in the green garments. We wear
green, during Ordinary Time, because we hope—that what we do in the ordinary
course of our lives will lead to heaven.
So during ordinary time we hope that our praying, and
charity, and patience with others, and fasting help us to become worthy of
heaven. And yes, I did say fast. Fasting
is not just for Lent, we are instructed to fast from eating meat on all Fridays
of the year or observe some other penitential practice—like praying the chaplet
of divine mercy or the rosary. But
Friday is a penitential day all year round—Vatican II did not change that, but
merely gave an option to do some other suitable penance.
What else is green the color of? Growth, springtime,
summer. The green of ordinary time is also
to remind us of that growth that is supposed to be happening in our souls.
Ordinary Time is the fruit growing period, where are souls, our through our
prayer lives and our practice of the corporal and spiritual works of mercy are
meant to fruits of the spirit to grow in our life. And the green of Ordinary Time is to
represent that new, vibrant life and spiritual growth that we need to take an active
part in nurturing.
Just because we call it Ordinary Time, doesn’t mean it’s a
time to become passive. We often use the
word ‘ordinary’ to describe things that are unremarkable, commonplace, or
dull. The word ‘ordinary’ though, comes
from the latin word ordinalis, which means ordered, orderly, regimented,
steady, and consistent, like the ordinal numbers. Hence, Ordinary Time is the standard, ordered
time outside of the other liturgical seasons.
Just as Ordinary time is ordered, orderly, regimented,
steady and consistent, so our own spiritual lives should take on the
characteristics of this liturgical season.
Consistency in our daily prayer, regimented in our generosity and
kindness, steady in our daily imitation of Jesus, and continuous in our openness
to being challenged to growing in holiness.
I think one of the dangers of any lengthy amount of time is
that we can grow complacent--getting stuck in our ways, not wanting to be
challenged, not wanting to grow, just being satisfied with the familiar. When that happens, the vibrant green of
ordinary time can easily fade into a drab and dying brown, like the color of
our lawns after a number of days without rain; dying brown could even turn into
festering black, if totally neglect the work of spiritual growth or fall into
mortal sin.
On this eleventh Sunday of Ordinary time that theme of
growing permeates our readings. In the
first reading, we heard God promise that he can make the withered tree bloom. He can restore the life of the withered soul
of the sinner and through grace lead him to become a saint-- a tree that shall sprout
lush branches and be fruitful and majestic.
This is God’s plan for all of us.
Yet, if we neglect prayer and charity, and patience, and generosity, and
fasting, we will never bear the fruit God wants for us.
Ezekiel spoke this warning to the nation of Israel, but it
is a warning to all nations, including our own. A grand and majestic nation, if
it ignores or blatantly disregards the commandments of God, can wither and fade
from glory. When Modesty is exchanged
for perversion, faithfulness with willfulness, and prayer with pornography and video
games—the once great nation becomes vulnerable the parasites of worldliness, and
will wither and be conquered.
Following the same theme of spiritual growth, in the Gospel,
Jesus offered two short parables: the parable of the growing seed, and the parable
of the mustard seed.
In the first parable, a see is planted, and it sprouts and
grows, seemingly on its own. But the
seed, in fact, is cooperating with the will of God according to its nature. Jesus
tells this parable to explain that when the human soul, or the Church as a
whole cooperates with God, it will grow.
Yet, growth is not a mere human achievement, but a divine
achievement. God brings about the growth.
We will never become the people we are meant to be without cooperating with
God.
God is certainly working in our parish today, to bring about
a new springtime, a time of new spiritual growth, where the parishioners of
this day begin to utilize their spiritual gifts for the building up of the
Church in this corner of the world.
In the parable of the mustard seed, Jesus describes just
what happens when a soul cooperates with God.
This tiny mustard seed springs up and becomes the largest of
plants. And we’ve seen this throughout
the centuries in the lives of the saints.
Often, unknown, uneducated, unremarkable people become bright, shining,
majestic souls which glorify God. The
great heroes of the human race are not the athletes, they are not the movie
stars, they are not the politicians; the great heroes are the saints, who put
their lives in total service to the kingdom of God, just like Jesus
himself. Every human soul is a mustard
seed, which, when surrendered to God, can flourish and become uniquely majestic
and radiant with the light of Christ.
But that only happens when we cooperate with God, and put
his will above our own wants.
Since entering the seminary 15 years ago, I’ve been able to
visit the Holy City of Rome a few times.
If you’ve ever been to Rome, Italy, the streets are filled with
music. And about every 15 minutes some
street musician begins to play Frank Sinatra’s well known song “I did it My
Way”. I’ve mentioned how the meaning of
this song really bugs me. “I've lived a
life that's full, I traveled each and ev'ry highway, And more, much more than
this, I did it my way.” And hearing this
song in Rome, the Holy City, seems so wrong.
For the saints and martyrs of Rome have sung not “My Way” by “Thy Way”,
God’s will, not my own.
As catchy as the tune is, Old blue eyes offers a recipe here
for disaster, yet a philosophy adopted, sadly, by so many. A full life, a
fulfilled life, is not found in indulging every impulse and feeding every
desire or rebelling against God’s laws and doing things are own way. Spiritual growth into the Fullness of life,
comes rather, from imitating the Lord in all things.
How can you experience spiritual growth this Ordinary
Time. Make a plan, with God’s help, and
commit to it. Daily prayer, daily acts
of charity. List the people towards whom
you require extra patience, and pray for them.
List the temptations against which you need to practice extra vigilance,
and pray for strength, daily. Perhaps, make a visit to the Eucharistic
Adoration chapel with the kids or grandkids who are home on summer
vacation. For just as flowers and fruit
trees bloom in silence, every day, we need to sit silently in the Lord’s
presence, and open our hearts to Him, to be exposed to the light of grace.
As we make our way through this liturgical season of
Ordinary Time, a season full of opportunities for spiritual and moral growth, may
we be kept close to the Lord in our daily prayer, attendance at Mass, and open,
to all of the ways the Lord wishes to challenge us, and guide us, and cause new
growth in our souls, for His glory and the salvation of souls.
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