Isaiah 58:1-12/Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
March 2, 2022
From dust we came and to dust we will return.
In an hour
or two, we will leave the church. We will get in our cars to drive home. Some
of us may stop for gas or a few groceries. And wherever we stop, and whoever we
meet will see this sign of the cross on our foreheads or on our hands. They may
wonder what it is that we’ve done to ourselves. Some may mistake it for a
smudge of dirt that looks oddly cross shaped. Some folks may ignore us and the
cross on our foreheads altogether. But some people may suddenly remember that
today is Ash Wednesday – that strange day that some Christians observe, and
others don’t, that Christian day that refers to a practice of repentance that
doesn’t really make sense in today’s world.
In an hour
or two, we will go home and wash the ashes away, watch some tv, or read, or
just go straight to bed, and wake up tomorrow to return to our regular days.
But if we are paying attention and trying to practice what we preach – Amy –
then we know that even if the ashes are not visible, we have moved into Lent, that
season of the church year when even as the days get longer and lighter, our way
becomes darker and narrower, leading step by step to the cross.
My daughter
refers to Ash Wednesday as that day in church when we all proclaim, “Hey! We’re
all going to die!” And she doesn’t like that. When I was her age, I would not
have liked that either. But I understand now that Ash Wednesday is not just
about death, it is a reminder about what life should be, what life is meant to
be. It is a reminder not only from where we came, from dust, from infinitesimal
specks of stars, but also to Whom we belong. We come from God and to God we
return.
I find this
a most humbling and powerful day. On this day we wear the visible sign of our
repentance, of recognizing that we fall far, far short of the people God
created us to be. On this day we consider the ways in which we have loosed the
bonds of injustice from others and the ways we have not.
On this day
we remember that life is short, that death comes for us all, and that while we
lean on the promises of life after life, we are also called to do God’s work in
the here and in the now. In a world where war and violence are on display on
our televisions, our phones, our computers, we wear these ashes to remind us of
our call to be peacemakers, to work for justice, and to live in righteousness.
This is a
humble day, not a day for shame or diminishment, but for humility. No matter
how much we think we have control over our lives, over our homes, our jobs, our
families, this day reminds us that we are called to trust rather than control,
to believe rather than doubt, to see the world through the lens of faith, even
if our faith is fragile or faltering.
And on this
day, we are given the chance to see what the world can be. We hear the ancient
words of the prophet, of the gospel, the psalmist, and we get a glimpse of what
God wants for us, what God hopes for us, where our treasure is, and what it
would be like to repair the breech, to restore the streets, to live in the lush
greenness of a watered garden.
I guess
Phoebe is right. This is the day when we proclaim that, “Hey! We’re all going
to die.” But it is also the day when we can proclaim that the time we are given
is precious beyond price. It is the day
that we remember that God wants us to live fully in this life, in this time, in
this place. Yes, we are all going to die, and there are people on whom I have
imposed ashes who are no longer here. But God did not create us solely so we
could trudge through life toward death, but so we could do the work of the
kingdom now.
So,
consider what you truly treasure now. Offer your food to the hungry now. Loose
the bonds of injustice now. Let the oppressed go free now. Be peacemakers now.
Restore the streets for people to live on now. Repair the breach now. Live the
life that God has called you to live now.
From dust we came. To dust we will return.
In life and in death, we belong to God.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment