Moving back to Ordinary Time after spending the last month or so reflecting on the mystery of the Incarnation and the Second Coming is always shocking in a sense. The parties are over, the lights are down, and here we are, returning to our regular schedules of work and study. This year was great because we had a full week between the Ephipany and the Baptism of the Lord. In fact, its because of this that I felt inclined to reflect on Ordinary Time.
Three things are worth considering: 1) the color green, 2) the ending of the Gospel from the Saturday before the Baptism as a guide for understanding Ordinary Time, 3) the goal of the Christian Life: the divinisation of Man and its relation to the name of the season.
First, green. I love talking about this color, mainly because I never recieved a satisfying answer about it as a kid and once I found one I was so happy (call it my thurst for knowledge taking revenge on ignorance, or just call it a mild OCD, whichever). Anyway, apart from a sad attempt at self-deprecating humor, green is important: it serves as a constant reminder of the nature of Ordinary Time. The best way I’ve come up with to explain this is the example of the Wizard of Oz.
A common misconception is that Oz is green because it is wealthy and ostentatious. I disagree. I argue that it is green because green is the color of hope and fidelity. Oz is Dorthy’s only hope, and she has to remain fixed on it as her end if she is going to get there. The green of Ordinary Time reminds us every time we see it that we have our own “Emerald City,” that place that is our hope: the life of the Trinity. And it is through fidelity to the Person of Christ that we journey onward to it.
The difference in our case is that instead of having a vague idea of a mysterious city that we’ve never been to or heard of before this journey, our journey is in and through a concrete experience of a Person, the God-Man Jesus Christ… but that’s a whole different reflection.
Second, it hit me just this year in the hearing of the Gospel on the Saturday before the Feast of the Baptism. The best guide for what to do with Ordinary Time is found in the words of John the Baptist: He must increase, I must decrease. We get to spend considerable amounts of time each liturgical year reflecting on the mysteries of the Incarnation and the Resurrection. Obviously, those are of the highest importance as they are central to the Christian Life. However, I think there is immense value in spending a substantial amount of time simply living with the Lord.

Bastia, Corsica, France
This living with the Lord in the ordinary (not the play on words I’m looking for, see below) is the way in which the mysteries take on their power in our lives and transform us. If Christians needed a campaign slogan to quickly explain themselves, I think the words of John the Baptist pretty much sum it up. Which leads us to the next point.
Third, if you’ve ever found yourself in Mass and super distracted (I’ve never met a Catholic who is completely foreign to this experience) the thought may have crossed your mind, “what am I doing here right now?” (in these or similar words) With eyes to see, Ordinary Time is giving you an answer.
The Name: Jesus Christ came to order our lives and our love in response to the disorder caused by sin. Ordinary Time is “ordered” time, a time that is arranged. While I don’t think the connection is intuitive, after all the Latin directly reads something like “time through the year,” there is wisdom in the English term, because it expresses what is understood to take place in this time. The process of conversion and conformation to Christ takes time and it requires us to allow him to reorder us, or rather, put us back in order.
Divinization: This year it struck me that Ordinary Time begins after the Baptism of the Lord (it does every year). I do not want to go into interpreting the meaning of the Baptism, rather I just simply want to draw the connection that our own life of conformity to Christ began at our Baptism. What a powerful yearly reminder of the call we received. And if we submit ourselves to the life of the Church as it is lived properly in each distinct season, we find a beautiful unpacking of the mystery of the gift that Baptism is and what God has done for us, all accomplished through faith in Jesus Christ.
This short, awkward time between Christmas and Lent is not just an afterthought or some sort of attempt to “fill in the time” with something as we await a new mystery to unpack in prayer with the Lord. It’s a renewed call to a relationship which reorders us, a call to realize the hope that Christ brings in His Incarnation, fulfilled in his Death and Resurrection, and has its beginning in the very mystery which brought us to Him: Baptism.

