Ash
Wednesday
March
5, 2003
The Rev. Dr. David M. Wendel
Lessons: Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; II Corinthians 5:20b-6:10;
St. Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
“Remember
you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
I was reminded of these words recently when reading the Gazette
newspaper article about our young soldiers at Fort Carson preparing to be
deployed, and how the reality of their deployment, and the fact that they may,
soon, be facing an enemy across a battlefield raised spiritual issues for these
young men and women. The chaplains
being interviewed explained that they were seeing many more soldiers stopping
by, as they were being smacked in the face with the reality of their own
mortality. Having our own mortality
rubbed in our faces can do that—causing us to take stock of life, to appreciate
our lives moment by moment, and yes, it can even send us flying to the chapel,
or to the chaplain, looking for spiritual strength as we seek to deal with the
fact that we too, will one day die.
It’s no wonder impending deployment, and the possibility of war, sends
soldiers looking for spiritual solace.
The odd thing was, said the chaplains, what the soldiers were really
wanting, was not spiritual guidance, not baptism, or instruction in the
faith—mostly, these soldiers were looking for a cross they could put on their
key-chain, or around their necks, or in a pocket, to take with them
overseas. Almost like a good-luck
charm, these soldiers were looking for tokens, not transformation; they wanted something that would ward off
death, rather than something that would give them strength and courage, in the
face of death. And it’s kind of like
that for Ash Wednesday, as well.
Ash
Wednesday is intended to be one of those times when you get smacked in the face
with your own mortality. Could there be
any more poignant words in that regard, than these: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return”? Talk about rubbing your face in your own
mortality, on Ash Wednesday, people come forward to have their faces marked,
not with sweet smelling oil, not with perfume, but with ashes! You come forward, intentionally, to have the
ministers rub your faces in your own mortality, symbolized by some dirty, ashy
stuff that’s not unlike our remains after a hundred years in the grave. The
message of Ash Wednesday is, “Remember, you’re not going to live
forever. In fact, you could die
tonight—and would you be prepared?” The
message of Ash Wednesday is aimed at bringing about true repentance, and a
change of heart and life. And yet, does
the ashen cross serve it’s purpose? Or
is it simply a token—a good-luck charm—something we think will ward of death,
rather than bring about a transformation that will help us to face death,
without fear? I can’t answer that
question for you, but only for myself.
So, we must ask ourselves—am I
taking this ashen cross, to heart? Is
it just a token, or is it for my transformation? Does this cross, rubbed in my face, mean anything to me? Or will tomorrow be another day, like any
other day—where I go about my business, and think little about my own
mortality, my relationship with God, my need for repentance and amendment of
life? We can only answer that questions
for ourselves. But while we’re asking,
our lessons for Ash Wednesday aim to shed some light on us, and our
answer. Our lessons hold up a mirror,
before us, challenging us to look honestly at our mortality, but also at how we
are dealing with our mortality. Our
lessons are trying to get us to tear down the façade that we’re hiding behind,
to get us to remove the false face that covers up the ashen cross, so that
before God, and ourselves, we can admit to what ails us. We can admit that we have sinned and fallen
short of the glory of God. So that we
can admit that much of what we do as Christians is not heartfelt repentance,
but an outward show. So that we can
admit that what we really treasure in life, is not our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ, but money, and our job, and our
big-screen TV, and what other people think of us. Jesus says, “Do not store up treasures for yourselves on
earth—for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Well, our lessons for Ash Wednesday hope to
break through to us, to the heart of the matter, to show us that in many
ways, we treasure, in our hearts, lots
of things more than our relationship with God, in Jesus Christ. And our lessons want to show us that, so
that realizing our own frailty and failing—realizing our own mortality, we will
indeed, “repent, and return to the Lord our God with all our heart.” So that we will indeed, rend our hearts, and
not just our clothing. So that we will
indeed, spend the season of Lent, not in an outward show of piety, but in a
time of true repentance, and transformation, and change of life, returning to
our Lord who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast
love; returning to Him, so that
whenever we die, we can die forgiven, and restored to a right relationship with
Him, through the blood of our Savior Jesus,
shed for us on the cross, so that we might be made clean, so that we
might be ready, whenever our short lives, end. That is the purpose and meaning of Ash Wednesday, and that is
where we are left, as we cross the threshold from the glory of Christmas and
Epiphany, to the somberness and solemnity of Lent. As St. Paul reminds us, now is the acceptable time—now is the day
of salvation. Will these ashen crosses
be simply a show—or will they truly, go with us throughout Lent, bringing us to
our knees in true repentance and amendment of life?
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of
the Holy Spirit. Amen.