(Extra)ordinary Time

‘I shall lose none of those who the Father has given Me’ (Jn 6:39).

I am welling up with joy. Still savoring the Living Waters intensive in Czestochowa Poland, I departed porous in the Spirit of Pentecost. At every turn, the Father opened doors of ‘naturally supernatural’ exchanges about how Jesus transforms lives.

I mused on these weeks after Pentecost leading to Advent: though the Church calls them ‘ordinary’ (Latin for ordered or numbered), they can also be referred to as the ‘Sundays after Pentecost.’ I prefer that! Pentecost catapults us into living our own book of Acts—extending the Father’s Kingdom as the Spirit leads.

Timely. We need Pentecost to free us from Pride Month’s bombardment of false images, fake mercies and cruel justice. ‘The wicked freely strut about when humanity glorifies what is shameful’ (Ps 12:8).

In her new bio ‘Pageboy’, Ellen Page woos the sexually vulnerable with her celebrity-privileged impersonation of an 11-year-old boy named Elliot; Jill Biden welcomed a host of rainbow activists on the White House Lawn, in her words, to ‘celebrate’ coming out as ‘acts of daring and defiance’ (then promptly banned a male activist with new breasts for baring them on the lawn—apparently ‘daring’ has its political limits); and Broadway’s Tony Awards (best musical actor and featured musical actor) went to two men dolled up like Jessica Rabbit who claim to be ‘they’ and brushed aside questions of competing as female impersonators in a male category as ‘acting isn’t a gendered profession.’

So be it. Where sin and disorder abound, grace abounds more. I relished time with a couple of friends in Poland who, as SSA strugglers, are impacted by this Kingdom clash. The battle is intense for them both. Yet in catching up on their conflicts and progress, I observed how the Body of Christ has surrounded them in such a beautiful way—championing their true selves and making a generous space for them to bring their doubts, wounds and gifts into His Body.

They are radiant witnesses whose shame has become something glorious. I am overjoyed, welling up, made stronger by these icons of Divine Mercy.

During one ministry time in which we extended covering to the most vulnerable, I could see participants with skin burns, as if seared in body by abuses, addictions and sexual identity conflicts. Their wounds were open yet clean. We who surrounded them guarded these uncovered areas. We stood together in the Spirit of Ezekiel 37, a healing army made mighty by each member being known and joined together. God breathed on the dry bones.

Holy and happy are we ‘whose weaknesses were turned to strengths, who are becoming powerful in battle, capable of routing foreign armies’ (Heb. 11:34). Extraordinary times indeed!