Ash Wednesday
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10;Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
I always have such mixed feelings about this night. Part of me is drawn to the mystery of meditative moments and the symbols and forms of the Ash Wednesday Service. One of the characteristics of our Lenten and Holy Week worship is that there are regular moments that are intended to appeal to the variety of ways we live and experience God in the world. This is a night that is clearly not intended so much for the intellectual rationalist who is drawn to the complexity of sermon and Word. The service begins with an experiential moment., a requirement that all attending decide immediately if they will accept the altar call of confession that involves the placing of the mark of the cross in ash upon their forehead. And those who choose to sit back and not participate are as easy to spot as those who receive the mark of ash. That smudge on the forehead or its absence is hard to miss. I always enjoy observing conversations following the service as people try to figure out where to look when talking to another person. That forehead smear is so distracting, and now that I have mentioned it the conversations will be even more awkward. But the experiential encounter of our worship’s beginning is far more than the mark of ashes.
The repetitive call to confession in our liturgy drives us into contemplation of the nature of our sinfulness before God. There is offered here an experience of encountering God. Or God encountering us, and for those caught in a time of doubt or guilt this no small encounter. This is a service intended to generate some type of feeling response. A bit unusual for a Lutheran service, but then we Lutherans didn’t create the season of Lent. The first ashes in Christian worship are traced back to Pope Gregory I, who was Bishop of Rome from to 590 A.D. to 604 A.D. The practice of imposing ashes became universally applied to all of Western Christendom by the Synod of Benevento in 1091 A.D., more than 400 years before Martin Luther began his reforming of the faith. Historically and culturally around the world the beginning of Lent has always been a time of great emotional confusion. The excesses of Mardi Gras or Carnival in many parts of the world create a tension between the experiences and feelings of Shrove or Fat Tuesday, and just 24 hours later the somber reflective quality of Ash Wednesday.
Last night this church was filled with the sounds and activity of children and families letting their imaginations soar as they crafted their cardboard creations and decorated masks and noise makers. The parade of children with parents singing “Oh When the Saints Go Marching In” actually processed up the side aisles and down the center aisle of this church sanctuary. There was laughter and singing. Cameras flashing and streamers flying. The sugar high of pancakes and sweet syrup certainly didn’t hurt the enthusiasm. Then we gathered around the great pile of palms gathered from last Palm Sunday. And even in the midst of the snowstorm we watched the flames burn bright and hot. Contrasting feelings. Contrasting moods. How quiet tonight sounds. How somber and sober.
Jesus spoke to his disciples about the challenge of practicing piety. Jesus recognized the difference between the genuine feelings and the ritualized feelings. Between doing the expected action and the willingness to genuinely do that which was true to you and the moment. Jesus uses a favorite word to describe the challenge of this night and the season of Lent. Hypocrites. Those who say one thing and do another. Those who claim to be so good and just and holy and pure and righteous and godly and yet do things that are clearly not good or just or holy or pure or righteous or godly. Hypocrites. the word used by most people who need to take a cheap shot at any established religion. You know the old story. “I don’t want anything to do with religion or the church. Those people are nothing but a bunch of hypocrites” To which the age-old answer has been. “There’s always room for one more.”
But Jesus clearly did not encourage hypocrisy. Our lessons for this day are intended to do just the opposite. Our Gospel lesson is advice to avoid hypocrisy, which is why I have always had problems with it on Ash Wednesday. It has always seemed to me that our Ash Wednesday service was committed to doing exactly what Jesus said we should not do. In previous parishes I have had Ash Wednesday morning services, a tradition common to many of our Roman Catholic and Episcopal sisters and brothers. So the mark of the ash would be placed early in the day and worn all day long so everyone would know that you had attended services and that you were a Christian beginning the observance of Lent. Showing off my piety. Something my Scandinavian heritage definitely frowned upon. And the first words of our Gospel lesson also critique. Jesus said, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them…” This day seems intended to create enough guilt without adding ritual actions that it seems Jesus might not approve of. Then again, ashes of repentance are an ancient tradition of the faith dating back into the earliest records of the Old Testament. God requires repentance. Even Jesus says that. Ashes and sackcloth have been a part of the wardrobe of sin for centuries, but the rituals of confession and the acceptance of responsibility for one's actions are not at the center of Christ’s teachings.
The Lenten discipline so easily becomes about
us. About our sins. Our guilt.Oour confessions and acts of repentance. The traditions
of sacrificing something for Lent. Giving up something from our daily lives
as a sign of our commitment to God in the 40 days leading up to Easter. this
too can be trivialized so easily by what we say and do in the midst of observing
our discipline. A classic story illustrating this point is told of a Roman Catholic
priest working in the inner city who was walking down an alley one evening on
his way home when a young man came down the alley behind him and poked a knife
against his back. "Give me your money," the young man said. The priest
opened his jacket and reached into an inner pocket to remove his wallet. as
he did so he exposing his clerical collar. "Oh, I'm sorry, Father,"
said the young man, "I didn't see your collar. I don't want YOUR money."
Trembling from the scare, the priest removed a cigar from his shirt pocket and
offered it to the young man. "Here," he said. "Have a cigar."
"Oh, no, I can't do that," the young man replied, "I gave them
up for Lent."
Hypocrite or just too human? There are so many things to give up for Lent. But really Lent has nothing to do with it. They are just things that should be given up. Lifestyles that should be changed. Priorities that should be redefined. Values that should be embraced. As we enter the season of Lent we need to remember that Lutherans do not need Lent. We affirm again and again the truth that we are saved by God’s grace alone. We will be embraced yet once more this evening by God’s grace in the offering of the gifts of bread and wine. We will discern in holy moments the power of Christ’s body and blood to carry us by faith alone into God’s embrace. Yet we know we sin. We know we fall short of the glory of God. Lent provides for us an opportunity to proclaim that our faith now leads us to strive to live lives that more faithfully reflect the image of Him who died for us.
We will take this time, these 40 days to contemplate again a mystery of faith that one death means so much for the whole world. Hypocrite? Yes, that is me. Marked by a cross that I usually prefer to admire from a distance. Sacrifice? That is what Christ did for me. Still, I know. I see. I feel. That grace is something to which I also must respond in faith the joy and celebration of Shrove Tuesday was not wrong. I think it may actually have been a foretaste of the Easter promise. So we enter Lent. Hypocrites all. Marked by the cross. Not just in ashes but in the waters of our baptism. Waters that washed away the mark of sin.
Last night as we stood around the burning pile
of palms with the snow falling one of the pre-teens was heard to say, “Put
your hands out. Feel the cold of the snow melting hot on your hands by the heat
of the fire. This feels so cool. Hot and cold. Cold and hot.” Such is the
story of Lent. Saints and sinners. Luther used the phrase “simil ustus
et peccator.” At the same time saints and sinners. A Lutheran paradox.
a truth of faith. The journey of Lent begins. I always have mixed feelings about
this night, and I think that is what God intends.
Amen.