Showing posts with label Ash Wednesday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ash Wednesday. Show all posts

Thursday, February 19, 2026

And Yet: Ash Wednesday

 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10                                                                        February 18, 2026 

            The challenge in preaching Ash Wednesday is the same challenge that clergy face on Christmas.  It’s the same readings year after year.  This year I thought I had a great new take on Joel and then realized that was exactly what I preached last year. In previous years, I have preached about why we put ashes on our head even though the Gospel reading tells us not to disfigure our faces.  My theory is that it’s actually an admission of our own hypocrisy, which is a good and heathy thing to admit.  We are all hypocrites about something in our lives.  I have preached that amazing line from Joel, “rend your hearts and not your clothing.”  What I have never preached on is 2nd Corinthians, partly because it doesn’t seem to really belong in Ash Wednesday…at least not as clearly as the others.

            Yet I found myself coming back to the last two verses of this text from 2nd Corinthians over and over.  “We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see-- we are alive; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.”  One of the things that I love about Paul (who is the individual who wrote 2nd Corinthians and much of the New Testament) is his humanity.  We see his insecurities and his defensiveness close up.  If the Bible was written today, this would have been so highly edited and polished, we would not hear any of the phrases that make the great heroes of the Bible accessible and relatable. While the Bible has been translated thousands of times, the word still retains the truth of the people who wrote it.

            Paul was clearly getting some push back from the people of Corinth. His mission was to spread the Gospel far and wide, so he moved from place to place, never staying terribly long.  He was in Corinth a little longer than he was in other places, about a year and half, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s not a very long time. After he left, other religious leaders stepped in and seemed to have contradicted Paul’s message, probably offering another path, an easier path.  Since Paul didn’t know Jesus personally, people used his lack of first hand knowledge to undermine his message. 

Thus we see him defending himself quite a bit in his letters.  Here he provides us a list of the hardships he has endured as well as his virtues.  It was a common rhetorical technique at the time---listing hardships and virtues. This list almost seems to be doing what the Gospel tells us not to do—practicing one’s piety before others.  Then again, maybe he didn’t have a choice.  For people to believe the message he was sharing, they had to believe the messenger.  Still I find it fascinating that this man who accomplished so much was just a little insecure.

            Let me return to those lines that first got my attention. I get excited when I see the phrase “and yet” in the Bible.  It usually speaks to a tension…often between what we are experiencing now and what will we experience in God’s kingdom.  It speaks to that primal hope---even though things are rough now, it’s going to get better.  In this reading, it speaks to another tension of how others perceive us (or how we think they perceive us) as compared to the way that God perceives us.

            “We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known;” I have known a fair amount of people with imposter syndrome.  I assume some degree of it is normal.  Yet it concerns me when I see it in Christians—people of faith fearful of calling themselves a Christian.  It’s sometimes because they don’t believe everything, or because they have a past they are not proud of, or maybe a present they aren’t proud of. 

People have told me, “if you really knew me, you wouldn’t think I belong here.” I always tell them, I don’t need to know all of you to know that you belong here. Because God knows all of you. Church isn’t a finishing school for Christians who are 90% there and just trying to get to 100%.  It’s for anyone who is ready to admit that they have fallen short and they want to be better. It is for anyone who wants to deepen or explore their faith. It’s for people who want to know Jesus. Paul knew what it was to be treated as an imposter.  Jewish people thought he had failed as a rabbi. Many Christians knew he had persecuted Christians and were still not convinced he was a real Christian.  But he knew that in God’s eyes he was true.  It didn’t matter that no one knew him entirely because God knew all of him and still loved him.   

We are “dying, and see-- we are alive”   This is the line that belongs on Ash Wednesday. In just a few minutes, I will put ashes on your forehead and remind you of your mortality…that you are dust and to just you will return.  Yet while we are all dying (at different rates), we are still very much alive, no matter if you are 25 of 85.  You are still alive. That is a precious thing.  It also comes with a certain responsibility. What will you do with this beautiful life you have been given?  How can you serve God and God’s people?

We are “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”  Life is really hard and often depressing.  If you are aware of the things going on around you, it would be impossible not be a little sad. We could go around bemoaning the state of the world 100% of the time, or we could find times and ways to rejoice—not because we are ignoring the suffering, but because we still have a loving God and there is always some place where we can find joy. Even on Ash Wednesday, we rejoice because we have a God who loves us unconditionally.

We are “poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.”  We have all seen the people who have everything they need and more, but are still desperate to acquire more stuff. They are never content with what they have. We see it in our culture way too much.  We have also seen people who have just what they need and somehow seem to have more than enough to give. Their life is one of abundance. God looks at us and see us as more than enough. You are more than enough.

Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent.  You could look at Lent and see the penitence and the focus on sin and say, “Oh God, not again. There is too much suffering, I don’t need any more. I don’t need more reasons to feel bad about myself.”  And yet….we could look at this as an opportunity to see the person that God sees…to chip away at the residue that has hardened around your heart and see yourself as a beloved child of God who has these 40 days to draw closer to God, to create a clean heart and be the person who God has created you to be. That is what Lent offers each one of us, a new beginning.

Wednesday, February 22, 2023

Lent Will Break Your Heart: February 22, 2023

 Year A Ash Wednesday                        Joel 2:1-2, 12-17                                                                                         

            The reading from the prophet Joel begins, “Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming near—a day of darkness and gloom…”  Welcome to Lent!  This is what you expect from Lent, isn’t it? Darkness, gloom, and then guilt and shame.  It’s your fault all these terrible things are happening.  If you want things to turn things around, you must repent.  That’s’ the way these readings from the prophets normally go. And if you read Joel with that expectation, that is what you will get.  However, upon closer inspection, you might see that Joel is a bit different than the other prophets.

            The first two chapters talk about the destruction of the land due to an enormous locust invasion.  A locust infestation would have destroyed their crops, which was their source of food and money.  It wasn’t just a nuisance; it was a disaster that affected every part of their lives.  What is interesting is that Joel never blames this invasion of locusts on the sins of the people, which was a fairly typical tactic at this time. 

            He painted an alarming and disturbing picture, but given the fact that this was their unavoidable reality, it seems a reasonable thing to do.  But he never blames anyone. In the midst of this disturbing picture, Joel shifts the tone and writes, “Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart…” Typically when we see the word return in this context of Ash Wednesday, we think: repentance, confession. And Joel does suggest fasting, weeping and mourning—which we might also associate with repentance.  But consider this, their crops have been decimated.  They are already fasting out of necessity.  If they aren’t weeping and mourning, it’s only because they don’t feel comfortable doing so.  Maybe they are just holding it all together like so many of us do. In some ways, Joel is giving them permission to weep and mourn.

             Then Joel says, “rend your hearts and not your clothing.” Joes doesn’t want them to rip their clothing which is a traditional display of guilt and shame.  He doesn’t ask them to roll in the dirt.  He’s not asking them to repent of sins and he’s not accusing them of anything.  He asks them to fast, to weep, to mourn and to rend their hearts. 

`           Rend your hearts.  It literally means to tear your heart…which sounds a lot like a broken heart.  Frankly I would rather tear my clothing.  But we must remember that these people were already suffering. Their hearts were probably already broken.  Joel was asking them to break them a little more…but not so they could punish themselves.  He was asking them to rend their hearts so that they could renew their relationship with God.  “Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”

            We don’t know why the people have distanced themselves from God. Maybe it was something they did, maybe it was totally out of their control. Perhaps, they didn’t even know it was happening.  And then suddenly they realized, they no longer had a relationship with God. Maybe the stress of the famine had been too much for them. Or they lost too many people they loved. It could have been an intentional decision, but more likely, it was just a gradual distancing.  That is what it usually is. 

            Joel wasn’t telling people to repent (and just so you know, there is nothing wrong with repentance, it’s a good and important thing), but that is not what this story was about.  How do we know? Because he wasn’t telling them what to repent from.  No, his very ardent desire was for them to reconnect with God, reorient their lives in a way that God would once again be at the center. 

            Joel wasn’t spending time asking why all these horrible things are happening and why God feels so far away—as we so often see in the psalms and even our own lives.  No.  He was calling for action.  He believed that what we do as humans matter.  It affects the world and it affects our relationship with God.  In Hebrew thought, the heart isn’t the seat of the emotion as much as it’s a place of thought and reflection.  When Joel told the people to rend their hearts, he wanted them to spend time considering how they can repair their relationship with God. Don’t obsess over why it’s happening or why it isn’t fair.  None of that will help.  Instead, Joel is saying, “Ok, this is the horrible stuff we are dealing with and this is how we are going to climb out of it. 

            First we will fast. Then we will weep and mourn. Then we will spend time reconnecting with the God of grace and mercy.  Then…well Joel doesn’t actually predict what will happen after that.  He doesn’t promise that the harvest will return and all will be well again.  Joel doesn’t make any promises at all…it’s more like an appeal.  He encourages them to join together—weep together, pray together, reconnect with God and with the people of God.

            That is what we are asking during Lent as well. We haven’t had an invasion of locusts, but we’ve had about every other imaginable thing.  Maybe you feel like you are 100% committed to God right now and there is absolutely no way you can improve upon that. If so, you can stop listening.  Otherwise, it might be time to take the advice of Joel.  Fast…if not from food, from the thing that distracts you most from your relationship with God.  Weep and mourn…if not for yourself for someone else.  There is no shortage of suffering people in our world today.  Tear you heart, not with the intent to hurt, but to open it up a little more to God’s mercy and grace.  Join the community of faith, because this is hard stuff and you might need some support.  Come to our Lenten program Wednesday nights where people will be sharing parts of their faith journey.  Attend every Sunday service you can attend.  Make an appointment with Mark or me if you need to talk. Seriously, clergy live for those kinds of conversations.  Return to God with all your heart. 

Thursday, February 27, 2020

Ash Wednesday:February 26, 2020


Year A, Ash Wednesday                                           
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21                                               


            I have often heard the liturgy (in traditions such as the Episcopal Church) compared to theater.  We have a stage and props.  We have a script (the BCP).  We even have stage directions which we call rubrics.  We have stage hands who make sure everything is in the right place and make sure our costumes are out (the Altar guild).  We have a program with the cast and the different acts.  Finally we have the actors, who are the acolytes, lay Eucharistic ministers choir, ushers, greeters, members of the congregation, and finally the clergy.  Many people have adverse reactions to this analogy.  It makes us sound insincere.  I admit I had the same reaction initially.  But maybe we should not be so hard on the theatre.  Perhaps there are some parallels.
In the Gospel for today, Jesus tells us how not to be like the hypocrites.  There were three things that Jews were expected to do: give alms to the poor, pray, and fast.  The problem wasn’t that people were not doing those things.  They were, but they were doing them for the wrong reasons.  When they gave alms, they would make sure that everyone knew they were giving money to the poor.  Giving lots of money provided a certain status because not only did it mean that you had a lot of money to give, but that you were exceptionally good and generous.  When people prayed, they would not only do it in a public place, but they would make their prayers as long as possible, so as to appear more pious.  Finally, while the Jews only have one day (the Day of Atonement) where fasting is necessary, many of the Jews fasted on Mondays and Thursdays.  They flaunted their piety by parading around in public looking dismal and hungry.  Sometimes they would even whiten their face to make themselves look more pale and underfed.  They wanted everyone to know that they were the holy ones, they were the ones who were close to God.  While these actions should have made them closer to God, they were too focused on impressing their peers, so it didn’t really work. 
All of this sounds pretty foolish to us.  And it is awfully easy to sit back and judge these Pharisees.  But maybe we should not be so harsh on them.  Wait you say, aren’t we just agreeing with Jesus? Wasn’t Jesus the one who told us not to be like them? Are we not justified in our disdain?  It’s true, Jesus did warn us not too be like the hypocrites.  Yet it is not our job to ferret out the hypocrites in our midst.  Jesus is telling us how we are supposed to act.  It also might be helpful to know what Jesus meant when he used the word hypocrite.  The literal translation of hypocrite is actor.  Jesus was calling these people actors.  That was his charge against them.
A few years ago, I read a fascinating book called, The Year of Living Biblically.  It was by a man who spent a year living out every law of the Hebrew scriptures.  He was agnostic and wanted to see if it was possible to truly follow the Bible literally.  What I found most interesting was one of his conclusions.  He said that he had previously thought that you changed your mind first and then your actions changed as a result.  However in his experience, his mind changed as a result of his actions.  For instance, one of the laws in the Hebrew scriptures is to give prayers of thanksgiving constantly.  While these prayers didn’t mean anything to him when he started, by the end he found that he was more thankful as a result.  The whole time, he was merely following these laws to prove a point.  He was just acting them all out.  Yet those actions fundamentally changed his heart. 
            Let’s face it.  Sometimes we don’t mean every word we pray.  Occasionally we come to church when we do not want to be here. Sometimes we come, just so we can get ashes on our forehead, for nostalgic reasons or so everyone knows that we went to church today.  Yet there is power in these actions that is greater than any of us is aware.  God is acting in us every moment and movement.  Sure it would be better if we meant every word and our minds never wandered while in prayer.  But until we all reach that state of perfection, perhaps acting isn’t so bad.  The important thing is that our hearts remain open to the actions of the spirit, that even when we don’t want to pray because we really are not that thankful, we still do it.  And we do it not because of what we want other people to see in us, but because of what we see in God.  Someday, we might just lose ourselves in the action and realize that maybe it meant something all along. 

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Confession of a Hypocrite: Ash Wednesday

Year B, Ash Wednesday     
Matthew 6                                                                                           February 14, 2018
 

            One of the biggest criticisms of Christians is that we are hypocrites.  We say one thing and we do another.  We act one way in church and then an entirely different way when we are out of church.  We claim to love everyone, but we don’t treat everyone the same way.  These are just some of the accusations that I have heard lobbed at Christians as a whole.  I am always tempted to defend Christians or claim that we Episcopalians are different, but I know that won’t help.  That’s what hypocrites do…deny their hypocrisy.

            In the Gospel for today, Jesus tells us how not to be like the hypocrites.  There were three things that Jews were expected to do: give alms to the poor, pray, and fast.  The problem wasn’t that people were not doing those things.  They were, but some were doing them for the wrong reasons.  When they gave alms, they would make sure that everyone knew they were giving money to the poor.  Giving lots of money provided a certain status because not only did it mean that you had a lot of money to give, but that you were exceptionally good and generous.  When people prayed, they would not only do it in a public place, but they would make their prayers as long as possible, so as to appear more pious.  Finally, while the Jews only have one day (the Day of Atonement) where fasting is necessary, many of the Pharisee and scribes fasted on Mondays and Thursdays.  They flaunted their piety by parading around in public looking dismal and hungry.  Sometimes they would even whiten their face to make themselves look more pale and underfed.  They wanted everyone to know that they were the holy ones, they were the ones who were closest to God.  While these actions should have made them closer to God, they were too focused on impressing their peers.

As much as I may want to judge these Pharisees and pretend that I am not at all like them, I am not sure I can.  How many of us wait to make sure the cashier or waiter is looking before putting money in the tip jar? How many of us get annoyed when we do not get a thank you note after giving a gift or making a donation?  I am always mortified when I am in church or some assembly where they are taking an offering and I realize I have no cash to give, nor do I have a checkbook.  I am not mortified because I cannot give to the cause or the charity.  I am mortified because I am worried about what people around me will think.  Sometimes I will even be extra thorough as I search through my purse so the person next to me will understand my predicament.  I understand what it is to want people to know that you are doing good.   

Ash Wednesday is a little confusing.  We read a Gospel reading that specifically says that we should not try to look dismal like the people who disfigure their face when they are fasting. Do you know one of the ways they disfigured their face?  They put ash on their face.  After we proclaim these words of Jesus about not disfiguring our face, we put ash on everyone’s face.  While it’s not a written rule, the unspoken rule is that you leave the ash on your forehead the rest of the day. It’s quite a juxtaposition.            

Before we get too critical of the practice of putting ash on our heads, it’s important to know that there is biblical precedent.  In the Old Testament, when people were repenting before God, one way to prove their humility was to put ash on their face.  Most times this pleased God.  This was seen as an appropriate gesture.

 It also reminds us of our mortality.  After Adam and Eve disobeyed God, God told them their punishment.  He listed many things and ended with, “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  By putting ash on our face, we are reminded that we were created from the earth, and one day we will return to the earth.  It kind of puts things in perspective.

Yet I think there is something else going on.  It’s about more than repentance or our mortality.  It’s about being honest about who we are.   As Christians, we occasionally are hypocritical.  It’s almost impossible not to be.  We are trying to follow the teachings of Jesus, a man who was perfect.  We know we should be emulating him, but we don’t always act like Jesus.  There is a lot of time we don’t act like Jesus.  We aren’t perfect, but we still call ourselves Christian. 

One of my favorite quotes about church is that “we are not a museum for the saints, we are a hospital for sinners.”  We do not come to church because we are perfect Christians. We come to church because we know that we need help being Christian and that hearing God’s word and participating in the sacraments helps remind us of what it is to be a Christian.  We might mess up as soon as we walk out, but it’s usually unintentional.  By walking out of this church with ash on our foreheads, we are saying, “Yup, sometimes I am a hypocrite---but I am trying really hard not to be.”

The ashes that we put on our face expose the world to who we truly are.  It’s the one time when we can freely admit that we are sinners and are in need of repentance.  Everyone is covered with the same ash.  We all share the same desolation, in that we are all sinners.  If you feel like you always have to pretend that you are happier, smarter, more pious than you are…this is your day to expose the real you.  So maybe this is hypocritical. But you know what, at least we can admit that.  That is what Lent is about—a time to reflect on who we are and find ways to be closer to God.
 
Idea of admitting our own hypocrisy was from a sermon by Dr. Elizabeth Huwiler given on February 9, 2005 at Lutheran  Theological Seminary Chapel.
http://www.ltsp.edu/reflections/2004-2005/050209huwiler.html
 

 

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

What God Sees: Ash Wednesday

Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-21                      February 10, 2016

            Every year when I come to this service, I wonder what people must think when we read this text from Matthew and then do the exact opposite.  Over the years I have come up with several theories which I have shared and sometimes I have just avoided the topic all together because I am sick of talking about it.  But this year I decided to come back to the drawing board and look at it with fresh eyes.  I was trained in seminary to look at texts critically always considering the context not only within the Bible, but the time and place it was written.  I was also trained to look at my own innate biases in regards to the text.  For instance, I will almost always look for strength in women of the Bible. 

 I also realized at one point in seminary that I was extra sensitive about hypocrisy in the Bible…anytime the Bible seemed to contradict itself or anytime we as Christians flagrantly contradicted our core beliefs.  This year, it occurred to me that I was overly preoccupied with our practice of putting ashes on our forehead after reading a Gospel which clearly states that you should not disfigure your face and to be sure to wash your face.  I was worried about how it looked, how people might judge Christians as hypocrites. 

            Then I read a commentary that opened my eyes.  The commentator reminded me that this was not meant to be taken literally.  Jesus was using a tool that he often employed- that of hyperbole. He was talking about extremes.  When talking about giving alms he used two examples.  One was the person who blew a horn before giving money to charity.  The other was the person who was so sneaky about giving, one hand did not know what the other was doing.  We all know that would be impossible.  Jesus was simply trying to illustrate the point that we are not to do things just for the sake of being seen by other people.

            However these examples that he used (like putting oil on your head while fasting) were not meant to be new commandments or rules; they were simply examples.  What Jesus was trying to emphasize was the motivation behind these actions, not the actions themselves.  There is one word that comes up over and over again in these 12 verses: See or be seen. Each time Jesus uses the word, he juxtaposes two ways of being seen.  The first is doing things in such a way that will ensure you are seen and recognized by other people.  The other is that your Father in heaven will see you in secret.  In saying that God will see you in secret, Jesus isn’t just talking about you praying in your closet to make sure no one can see you.  He is pointing out that God can see your intentions.

            It makes you wonder why being seen matters so much.  Today it seems as though people are constantly aware of what other people are doing.  You don’t need a street corner or a horn anymore if you have youtube, twitter and facebook.  The point of social media is being seen.  You can look at your video or post and the statistics will tell you how many people saw your post or video.  And for some reason, that matters.  It matters because it gives us affirmation.  The more people who are seeing us, the more people who like us, the more we matter as individuals. 

            Why is it that we need this kind of validation and affirmation from other people when we already have that from God?  Why do we seek from other people what God already gives us unconditionally and selflessly?

            It goes back to the word see.  We can see other people’s reactions and affirmations.  We can see if they approve or disapprove and if we are so inclined, we can change our actions to get the right response.  Many years ago I said something in a sermon and I got a gasp of horror in response.  I made it through while maintaining my point, but I never made that point again.  In not making that point again, I knew I would please the people in my congregation.  I have no idea what God thought of the point because there was no audible or visual reaction from God.  And that’s why it is so difficult to depend on God’s perception alone.  I can tell you a million times that God loves you the way you are but it would be a lot more effective if God told you himself.

            That is why we have the Bible and this community of believers (the church).  We help one another understand what God wants from us.  We try to emulate God’s loving kindness and we try to avoid the kind of judgment that we see so frequently in the world around us.  I am going to stop worrying if the act of putting ashes on our head makes us look like hypocrites.  I know why I do it, partly because of what our liturgy says.  In putting on ashes, we are reminding ourselves of our mortality and our vulnerability.  We are remembering that Jesus died and was resurrected for us so that we too could one day defeat death.  We wear these ashes not to show everyone how holy we are, but to show people that we know that death is not the end.  These ashes are temporary.

When I put the ash on your forehead, I will tell you: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” But we know in our hearts that we are far more than dust.  Remember, it is what is in your heart that counts, not what you wear on your face.  You are dust and to dust you shall return.  But that is not the end of our story because God has promised us eternal life. The ash will one day come off and we will be reborn. 

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

March 5, 2014: Ash Wednesday



            Up until a couple years ago, we had three services on Ash Wednesday.   It’s not uncommon for churches to have multiple services on Ash Wednesday.  For the longest time, I just took it for granted that we had multiple services on this holy day.  But then I started wondering, why is it this holy day and not others?  Since it is a week day we are trying to accommodate people who are going to work and I admire people who take time to come to this service.  Yet we only have one service on Holy Thursday, one service on Good Friday.  Those are both weekdays.   There are other holy days on weekdays (Ascension Day, Feast of the Annunciation, Epiphany, The Feast of St. John….).  We don’t have any services on those days.  The Roman Catholic Church has ten holy days of obligation and Ash Wednesday isn’t even one of them.   Did you know that some churches have begun a practice called “Ashes to go” where they bring ashes to public places and offer them to anyone who might be passing by.   People partake in it, even when they have not been in church in years. What is it about Ash Wednesday that appeals to people?

            The cynic would tell you that people just come for the ashes so they can show other people that they went to church.  But come on…being a Christian isn’t exactly the most popular thing to do anymore.  It’s not what you do to impress people.  Most people think you just have dirt on your forehead and stare at you while trying to figure out if it is worth telling you that you have dirt on your forehead.  So what is it…what is it that makes this the one day out of the year (besides Christmas and Easter—when most people are not at work anyways) when people feel they need to be in church?  I think there is something deeper going on, something deep and profound that draws people to church in the middle of the day/at the end of a long day.

            The use of ashes goes back thousands of years.  We read about it a lot in the Old Testament.  When someone had committed a sin and was seeking repentance, the person would roll in ashes or sit in ashes.  In some instances an entire town or community would roll in ash, wear sackcloth (which was apparently very uncomfortable and humiliating), and fast in order to seek God’s forgiveness or favor.  Sometimes wallowing in ash was an act of mourning.  In the Gospels, Jesus refers to the use of ashes and sack cloth as a means of repentance.  While now it probably seems a little silly, maybe even unnecessarily demonstrative, for most people it was a very sincere act of humility. 

            While that is a nice lesson in history and Biblical precedent, I am not sure that it explains why we still use ashes today.  In ancient Israel, ashes also represented that which was burned out and wasted…that which once was, but is no more.   Has anyone here ever felt burned out or emotionally and physically depleted?  You don’t need to raise your hand, but think about it. 

 We define sacraments as an outward sign of an invisible grace.  While faith requires us to believe in things that cannot be seen, Jesus knew that humans needed things that they could touch, feel and even smell.  We need to have things that can be experienced.  When we talk about sacraments, normally that outward sign is something pleasant to the senses.  It might be wine, bread, water, or oil.  These allow us to have some tangible understanding of this inward grace. 

            But what about those things that are more unpleasant: guilt, sin and sorrow.  Do we need something tangible for that?  I think we do.  In fact, I think that one of the reasons why so many people come to church on Ash Wednesday is because it is the one day in the church year when we present a tangible symbol of pain and loss.  We recognize the sin and loss that each one of us holds.  We don’t try to sweep it under the rug as our culture is so fond of doing.  No, we smudge it on our foreheads and in doing so we say, “You may be burned out. You may be hurting.  You may be angry.  You may have sinned and are having trouble asking for forgiveness.  God is here for you and as hard as this may be for you to believe, the church is here for you too.”  We are in this together.  We all get smudged together.  There is no one in this church who is without sin. There is no one who is without pain. 

            It’s one of the only days in the church year where you leave dirtier than you arrive.  That is how we start Lent- by being honest about our sin and pain.  We start Lent together and then during Lent, we do the hard work of repentance, so that we can wipe that ash away.  We won’t ever be completely free of it, but we can certainly try.  We can ask for forgiveness.  We can partake in the body of blood and Christ.  We can experience moments of grace where we are able to see past the soot.  

            One of my favorite hymns is called Ashes.  The third verse says: We offer you our failures, we offer you attempts, the gifts not fully given, the dreams not fully dreamt. Give our stumblings direction, give our visions wider view… This is the day when we can be honest about our failures.  We can offer them to God and God will accept them for what they are, a gift freely given in humility and love.  Sometimes the gifts we give do not come in pretty packages.  Sometimes they are covered in grime.  Thankfully, God is not frightened by a little dirt and grime.