In the Church calendar, Ordinary Time began last Monday (29^th May), the day after Pentecost, and it will last until the first Sunday of Advent (3^rd December). More Googler than Scholar, I dived into the internet to write this epistle. I quickly got caught in the lobster pot of church language (surely designed by Piranesi), where the meaning of “ordinary” is more concerned with ordinal numbers than the everyday, and “proper” is used as a noun rather than an adjective.

But wrestling with language made strange is what I do both when I write poetry and when I pray. This year, as we travelled through the seasons from Ash Wednesday to Pentecost, I noticed that my mind got caught on distinct phrases in the liturgies for Morning Prayer. Last week (after Ascension Day and before Pentecost), it was “Come, Holy Spirit….. kindle in us the fire of your love.”

Noticing gives rise to questions, such as ‘What do these words mean?” and “Why are these resonating just now?”. Noticing is the beginning of a conversation; with ourselves, with others and with God. Noticing is the beginning of prayer, and it is something that those who lead the intercessions on Sunday do in preparation: who needs our prayers right now, where is justice required?

Noticing requires of us that we admit (in both senses of acknowledging and letting in) what might seem strange and new. Pentecost is not the beginning of a time that is ordinary, but a time when into our everyday lives comes a generous, compassionate, forgiving and freeing love, and when our daily work is to let that love dwell with us. We are given six months, for it requires practice, just as prayer and poetry writing are helped by regularity. And then Advent begins again and gives us a fresh start.