May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord. Amen.
Whether you’ve been attending church since you were a small child, or if you happened to wander in recently, today is a day of penitence, where we are reminded of our impending mortality. In a few moments we will have ashes smeared on our forehead, as we are reminded that we are but dust, and to dust we shall inevitably return.
Whether this is your first Ash Wednesday service, or you have been attending services for as long as you can remember, Ash Wednesday is a staple in many churches. Ash Wednesday for me is a way I mark time in the church calendar year. The wonder of Christmas has faded a bit, New Year resolutions have gone by the wayside, and we are too far yet from Easter. But somehow, in the middle of all that, Ash Wednesday appears and reminds us of who we are, whose we are, and to turn back to the God who created the world. Ash Wednesday is an invitation to return to God, to give up the things that hinder our lives, and realign ourselves with the God who holds strong.
Mark Clavier, a Christian theologian, put it this way: “Once again, we stand at the threshold of Lent, much like the beginning of a familiar path through a quiet wood. It’s not a path we blaze ourselves, but one walked for centuries, worn smooth by the feet of saints and sinners alike. It leads us, not to some distant, unknown place, but back to ourselves, back to each other, and back to God. It’s a turning toward home.”
A turning toward home. A path blazed by saints and sinners alike. Tradition at its finest. That is what today is all about. It’s a time when we come together with our siblings in Christ, both those around us now, those who came before us, and those who will come after us, to confess our sins, take up a penitent heart, and remember that we are mortal.
Penitence, a word that has been mentioned a few times already, and one that goes hand in hand with this day, means the action of feeling or showing sorrow and regret for having done wrong. Which, in turn, goes along with repentance, a complete turning around. First we are penitent and then we repent.
As we think about repentance and turning our hearts and selves back to God, our true home, we are faced with the tradition of imposing ashes on our forehead.
Traditionally in the Old Testament, ashes were a sign of humility and repentance toward our faithful and loving God. A few examples might help put this into context:
● Job says to God, in Job 42:5-6, “I have heard of you by the hearing of my ear: but now my eyes have seen you. I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
● The prophet Jeremiah calls for repentance in Jeremiah 6:26 by saying, “O daughter of my people, gird on sackcloth, roll in the ashes.”
● The prophet Daniel pleads with God in Daniel 9:3 saying, “I turned to the Lord God, pleading in earnest prayer, with fasting, sackcloth, and ashes.”
● Other references include Number 19:9, 19:7, Jonah 3:6, and Esther 4:1
Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the church season of Lent. Which, overall, is a time of repentance and prayer, fasting, and giving to charity. But before all of that starts, we come before God’s altar, receiving a physical reminder of who we are. We receive ashes as a symbol of our death and the need for God’s mercy.
Overall, this is a day where we remember our sinful nature and our mortality. We are reminded, literally by the ashes we place on our forehead, that we are but dust. We are called to confess our sins, repent, and turn towards God. Return to our home, found in God’s merciful arms and loving spirit.
There are two things I am certain of about humanity, we will die and we will sin. Since the first encounter with the snake in the garden, sin is in our human nature. It is too easy for us to blame, lie, cheat and steal. Spend some time with small children, you don’t have to teach them to hit, bite, or lie. Somehow, they know how to do that, as they try to learn what it is to be human in this world. Rather, you have to teach them to love, be kind, be generous, and to confess their wrongdoings.
Our Gospel reading for Ash Wednesday from the Gospel of Matthew reminds us that sin – that is, the power to break faith with God, neighbor, and self – threatens to overtake our best actions. Even when we are at our “best,” we are still sinful. The apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans says exactly that. Paul says he does the things he does not want to do, and doesn’t do the things he know he should. Sound familiar? How many times have you uttered the phrase, “I hate when I do that” or “I don’t know why I just did that.” We are sinful. We deserve the consequences of our sins.
However…
I know things about humanity, but I am also certain about a couple things regarding God’s nature. The first is that God won’t leave us in our sinful state. God provided us opportunities to redeem ourselves, to repent of our sins, and to be made right with God. First with offerings and gifts and sacrifices in the Old Testament. And then ultimately God sent Jesus to die on the cross for us. To once and for all bridge the gap between humanity and God. No more daily and weekly sacrifices needed.
And with God sending Jesus, God also took care of our impending mortality. Although we will still die to this world, we have been given the gift of eternal life with God in heaven, our final home.
So although we will still sin and die, God has taken care of the problems that accompany those things.
Melinda Quivik, a liturgical and homiletical scholar, says the following: “Because this is the day of ashes, the beginning of Lent, the time to set one’s vision on the enormity of Jesus’ incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension, this is also a day to talk about death – what we are made of and what we will become. It is a day of utter honesty. “
There is something deeply humbling about Quivik’s statement about utter honesty. How many times do we try to hide what we are? To hide our actions? To be something else than what we are? To run away from our home found in God’s grace and mercy, instead turning to the shelter of the world, which will always betray us. When we are faced with the ashes that literally symbolize our death, there is an honesty and a vulnerability in that. There is a part of us that can’t escape what that means for us and for our lives.
It is in the middle of that utter honesty, that we see who we are. That we see that we have a God that loves us so much, even in our sinful nature. Even in our messy states. Even in the middle of the chaos we sometimes create on a daily basis.
God steps into the middle of our brokenness, picks us up, dusts us off (ashes and all), and grants us forgiveness, love, joy, mercy, and grace. And most of all eternal life.
God is home. Our refuge. Your stronghold. As you face the reality of your brokenness, your mortality, or how far you have wandered away from home, may you always remember that God is willing to welcome you and your repentant heart home with open arms. Just like the father in the story of the prodigal son, there is never too far that you could wander away from God’s love and mercy.
Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return. Your life on this earth is fleeting. Filled with highs and lows, joys and junk. Yet in the midst of it all, God has claimed your life. In baptism you were marked and sealed with the cross of Christ. Tonight you will be marked with the cross once again, reminding you that God loves you and claims you as God’s, even though we are but frail humans.
God loves you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and always. Repent, turn towards home, and take some steps into God’s loving arms. God is waiting for you, just as God always is and always will be.
Blessed be God, maker of all things, including our messy, broken, beautiful humanity. Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return. But dust you will not stay, because you have been gifted eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Amen.
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