Ash Wednesday is a great leveler. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” That pretty much sums it up. All of us, without exception, are born, live a certain amount of time, and then die. No one escapes that reality, not even Jesus. Like I said, Ash Wednesday is a great leveler.
But Ash Wednesday is not only a reminder of our human mortality, it is also a reminder that all have sinned, that all have fallen short of whatever measure we might imagine is an ideal. The Litany of Penance we will recite shortly lays it out in lavender, not that I relish the exercise but as I said, Ash Wednesday is a great leveler.
And so the inevitability of death and sin as the human condition are front and center for us this evening, symbolized by the ashes imposed on our forehead, an ancient symbol of mourning and repentance. However, Christians need to be reminded that Lent concludes with another evening service where the sign of the cross is placed on some foreheads. It’s the Easter Vigil, and as part of the baptisms we have at that service, oil, blessed by the Bishop, is marked with the sign of the cross on the foreheads of those baptized with these words, “You are anointed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism, and marked as Christ’s own forever.” It is as if to say sin and death and Ash Wednesday and Yom Kippur and innocent suffering and bad things happening to good people are not the final answer for us. If the point of Lent is the acknowledgement of our mortality and our humanity, the point of Easter is the acknowledgement that we shall not be lost, that God’s life in us is to be cherished.
It’s possible that I’ve just described a bit of spiritual schizophrenia, “So what is it, Ned, do we cry or laugh or what?” In my own life I’ve come to the conclusion that to be fully human is to embrace that spiritual schizophrenia, to cry because I’m truly sad about missed opportunities, about regrets, about the loss of innocent life, about the loss of any life, but then to laugh for sheer joy that I’m allowed to feel, allowed to be grateful for any number of things, allowed to love, deeply and passionately.
A Lenten staple for me these past few years has beenPresiding Bishop Arthur Lichtenberger’s “A Rule for Lent.”
Fast from criticism, and feast on praise;
Fast from self-pity, and feast on joy;
Fast from ill temper, and feast on peace;
Fast from resentment, and feast on contentment;
Fast from jealousy, and feast on humility;
Fast from pride, and feast on love;
Fast from selfishness, and feast on service;
Fast from fear, and feast on faith.
Amen.
