Love and Ashes [Ash Wednesday]
The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
Ash Wednesday
Psalm 103:8-14
Love and Ashes
It has been well-covered that Ash Wednesday this year falls
on February 14th, often better-known as Valentine’s Day. For many of us this is the first time we have
had to decide between ashes or a romantic dinner out. But this is not the first time this strange
juxtaposition has occurred. The last
time the two holidays fell on the same date was 1945. That was a long time ago – though I do now
realize some of you out there probably actually do remember the last time.
In many ways Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day are strange
bedfellows. Certainly a married priest,
like myself, is forced to sheepishly admit that the only date my wife will get
today is the Noon liturgy and the only gift will be ashes. (And so I am not scolded after the service,
we did celebrate Valentine’s Day on Monday.) But I think it goes without saying
that the two call to mind different details.
Valentine’s Day brings to mind chocolates and romantic dinners and thoughts
of passion and heart-shaped decorations and love. But then Ash Wednesday brings to mind the
fact that you gave up chocolate for Lent and you are fasting and all you can
think about is death and penitence and the only decoration is the black cross
on your forehead and then also love again. Perhaps surprisingly, but every bit
as much as Valentine’s Day, Ash Wednesday is about love.
It is what the two days have in common. I suppose it is fair to say that love is
expressed differently during this liturgy than it is perhaps on your average
Valentine’s Day, but both days celebrate love.
In fact, one cannot truly understand Ash Wednesday, certainly not
properly understand Ash Wednesday, without understanding that Ash Wednesday is
first and foremost about love.
It is our Psalm today that begins, “The Lord is full of
compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness.” You see, it is easy to see this day, and the
entire season of Lent, as a dark and difficult time one is forced to endure
until finally Easter restores the happiness to our lives, a dour season in which
self-flagellation is encouraged. And it
true that on this day and in this season we are called to remember our
mortality; we are called to lives of repentance; we are called to gives
ourselves to deep, prayerful reflection and intentional, sometimes difficult
and painful, self-examination. There is
a gravity associated with this season that we should feel in our souls.
But the discipline that defines this season, that the Church
encourages, is not the price we pay for God’s approval. Our Lenten offerings are not intended to
sedate an angry, wrathful God. If you
showed up here today to earn God’s love, or if you swore off of chocolate or
social media for Lent to earn God’s love, or if you made a pledge to say an
extra prayer for each of the next forty days to earn God’s love, you are
wasting your time. God already loves
you.
And that is why we do this.
That is what gives us the strength to bear these signs of our
mortality. That is what gives us the
courage to lay bare our weaknesses and faults.
That is what allows us to throw ourselves upon the mercy of God.
Because the first word is always: “The Lord is full of
compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness.” It always begins there. It starts with love.
When you look in the mirror today and you see those black
ashes on your face and you are reminded that you are flawed, sinful, and dying,
remember this also: God loves you…ashes and all.
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