Ash Wednesday

As we stand before an open grave, saying the final prayers, these are the words we use: "In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our brother (or our sister) and we commit his (or her) body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

This holy season of preparation by alms giving, fasting and prayer we call Lent has bookends: Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday.  Our prayer at the graveside shows the theological tie between them. We should not fear death--becoming dust--because we are filled with hope.  Our hope in the resurrection to eternal life should be unshakeable--"sure and certain hope" the prayer says.

Easter Sunday shines gloriously--even if the day is rainy--and lots and lots of folks come to worship.  What is your favorite part of the Easter worship service?  Music, flowers, preaching?? What I wonder is why many folks who worship on Easter don't show up on Ash Wednesday?  But all of you came to worship today for a reason.  Where are the others?

Is that celebrating resurrection, Christ's overcoming death, much more comfortable than facing our mortality?  Of course, it is! We understand death's sting, the pain of our grief when a friend or loved one dies.  Yet we usually live expecting to have tomorrow as a time to correct our mistakes and to do whatever is truly important to us, but which we have postponed for one reason or another.

Besides asking us to own up to our mortality, the ashes of this day remind us of our shortcomings, our sins, if you will. We intend to live as Jesus taught us, but we fail, we miss the mark and we find ourselves covered in the grime of the messes we have made. When today's ashes were blessed, they are called a "sign of our mortality and [our] penitence."

Perhaps truly admitting our shortcomings--even in the midst of everyone else admitting theirs--is just more than we want to do. Do our minds wander during the general confession on Sunday to our grocery lists?  Perhaps we don't even recognize our sins for what they are.  And if we have an inkling of how we might be hurting someone else or injuring ourselves, we can justify all that we have done.  I sometimes wonder in today’s world if true confession of sin has lost its relevance?

The practice in recent years of "Ashes-to-Go" calls into question the need to make a connection between recognizing our mortality and our sinfulness and confirming our sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life.  When we impose ashes on someone's forehead, should we check to see whether they have heard about the grace of God and the overcoming of death's power through Christ's resurrection? Are we cheating them or even harming them by this disconnection? 

The imposition of ashes and the words, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return," has real spiritual power.  A priest who participated in an Ashes-to-Go event reported that he was asked to impose ashes on some folks who weren't familiar with Christian ritual.  He noted: "I think they sort of realize it's an invitation to acknowledge limits. To bow down in public and say, 'I'm not in charge; I'm not going to live forever. [Even if they don't go to church they are] "really, really interested in doing that."

Yes, that would be a beginning, but this should not be where our witness to the world stops.  We always must share our Easter hope!

Walter Brueggemann, a contemporary theologian, has written a poem called, "Marked by Ashes" that shows the clear link between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday.  I want to close by reading a portion of that poem:

" . . .but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes—

we begin this day with the bitter taste of ash in our mouth:

 of failed hope and broken promises,

 of forgotten children and frightened women,

     we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust;

     we can taste our own mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.

We are able to ponder our ashness with

  some confidence, only because our every Wednesday of ashes

  anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste of death.

On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you—

   you Easter parade of newness.

  Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us,

    Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom;

    Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth. 

  Come here and Easter our Wednesday with mercy

     and justice and peace and generosity."