Love and Ashes [Ash Wednesday]

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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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