Ash Wednesday
Matt. 6:1-6, 16-21; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
I don't know about you, but I find that I am easily distracted visually by some of the strangest things. Last night I was talking with one of our young people at the Mardi Gras party when I noticed a little spot of red paint on their chin. I suspect they had been over by the face painting table and happened to touch some of the wet water color and then their face. We talked for several minutes but all I can remember of the conversation is a spot of red paint. I'm not even sure I remember now what or even to whom I was talking. When I think back on it I only remember the red paint.
It is so easy to focus on the wrong thing. I remember a lecture I once attended where the speaker had a loose button that was dangling from the sleeve of his spot coat. He did not seem to notice it but every gesture of his arm caused the button to bounce and swing on the single thread that still linked it to the sleeve. As we moved towards the end of the presentation the speaker became increasingly animated with sweeping arm movements. I began to wonder how long before the speaker simply shook the button off his sleeve. To this day I doubt that I would be able to identify the speaker or remember what the speech was about but I remember the button and the fact that at the end of the lecture it was still swinging and swaying from his sleeve.
To focus. To select the right details. One of the standard scenes in the many police dramas on television these days is the moment when the witness or even victim is brought into a room with what looks like a glass window but is really a one way mirror to view a police line up. I have serious doubts about my ability to ever do that primarily because I know how bad I am at giving someone a description of another person. When ever someone asks me what some member of the congregation looks like I am usually at a loss. I have been at the mall with Chris and walked into a store looking for her when the clerk has asked me "What does she look like?" and I have replied "Well, she's female." At least the spot of paint and the loose button leave a defining mark on my memory. People give me a lot more trouble.
When I think about it I am lucky to connect a name with a face given my inability to later describe any distinctive characteristic of the person. I am told that identification is best and easiest when you focus on a distinctive mark in the other person.
A distinctive mark. That is what tonight is all about. A distinguishing mark--or the lack there of. There is a certain irony that the gospel text focuses on the words of Christ cautioning against gestures and actions that draw attention to ourselves. Jesus admonishes his disciples to make their benevolent donation, to pray and to fast, all without any visible distinguishing action. No fanfare or public demonstration of self promotion. It is ironic that on the one day when the Christian church actually places a visible distinguishing mark of ash on the forehead of each believer the words of Jesus stress the importance of anonymity and inconspicuousness.
It is important to recognize that the mark of the ash and the gospel text are not directly related to each other. The ash is the remnant of the palms from last Palm Sunday almost a year ago burned to ash as a reminder of the mortality we all share before God. Our sins are confessed and the sign of that confession is the absolving grace of the cross of Christ. Our hope is in the cross that rises from the ashes of death to the promise of life everlasting. Empowered by that promise of faith we are then drawn to do the very things that Christ mentions in our gospel--serve others, pray and complete various religious obligations such as fasting.
The marks of our good works and actions are not to be distractions from the cross that we bear on our foreheads and in our hearts. I have come to recognize that there are a lot of people doing some very good things to help others in the world without seeking any reward or public recognition. There are faithful servants of the church who do the multitude of tasks that make our world a better place quietly and constantly. Our lesson for tonight would challenge a society that increasingly finds it necessary to provide a variety of recognition programs for volunteers. We award trophies and prizes for simply participating in certain activities. Our young people are required to catalog their volunteer hours as part of the course expectations for a number of classes in our middle and high schools. Admission to certain academic societies and colleges require that teens can demonstrate their willingness to serve others. It is troubling to think that our young people are learning the importance of service to others not as its own reward but as an act that will bring greater worldly rewards.
As we strive to help our confirmation students understand what it means to respond to God's grace through the stewardship of God's blessings, the question often is asked "Why give money and time to others?" I reply that the 10% of my income that I give is my way of thanking God and helping others. Sometimes the next question tells me volumes. "What's in it for you?" That question usually tells me that the questioner has missed a very important fact. I give my offering and time to God. I do so without any calculation of worth or expectation of return. There are many in our society who give as little as they can and take as much as they can. Jesus said they will be visible in their giving since it serves them and invisible in their support or actions when there is nothing to be gained for them. There is no thought of the sacrifice of past generations or the needs of future generations. All things are defined by the moment in what they have and can hold on to here and now. Jesus said, they will have their reward in the moment but should expect nothing more from the future or their God. This is a difficult text because it calls for a quiet faithfulness and a willingness to serve without regard for reward or return. This is not something that can be taught by demand or expectation. Recently I heard one of the young people from a local high school talking to another student about how relieved they were to have completed their class required community service. There is no service learned through compulsory acts for a grade or class credit. Service is learned by example and experience. The generous heart is a gift that many reject.
What does Jesus look like? I'm probably not the one to ask since I can't eve describe my wife. There is no known picture or even description of what Jesus looked like. Well, that is not completely true. The gospels make a point of telling us that after his death and resurrection Jesus appeared to the disciples and many others around Jerusalem. On one such appearance Jesus held out his hands revealing nail holes and showed the doubting disciple his wounded side. The distinguishing marks were there but not the identifying picture we would be expecting. That is what our call to discipleship is all about. Identifying marks of sacrifice and service in forms and places that we often do not expect. In the coming weeks we will gather each Wednesday evening for a brief service of prayer and opportunity to learn of the distinguishing marks that our church leaves in service to others. We will witness Christ's coming to inner city preschool children and homeless families in Lake County. We will remember how Christ fed the hungry thousands two millennium ago and then celebrate on-going efforts to end hunger in our world today. The journey of Lent this year is a quest for some of the distinguishing marks of our ministry.
Amen