Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Within the church calendar, Lent is to Easter as Advent is to Christmas. It is a period of preparation. For the cross. For the resurrection. A period of preparation that begins with “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.”
The story that begins with the God of the universe putting on human flesh and entering the world through blood and water, ends as all human stories must: with death.
Christianity, predicated on following the footsteps of Christ — is about descent and not ascent. It is about surrender, it is about gratitude, it is about becoming nothing because, as Father Richard Rohr would say, “when we are nothing we are in a fine position to receive everything from God.”
And so on this day, we participate in a symbolism that holds together two things. The cross that is marked on our forehead is made of two elements, ash, from the palm branches of the Palm Sunday past, and this ash represents the dirt and mess of life. And oil, which represents the anointing of holy and sacred beings. Oil was poured on the foreheads of those being anointed to be kings or in positions of high and holy power. And so can we see the crosses of Ash Wednesday as a combination of both dirty and holiness; of messy and yet sacred promise?
In talking through our upcoming services with my husband Ryan this week (he is also a United Methodist Pastor) he shared something with me that I had never learned before. He said that the anointing happened on the forehead in the Ancient Times because it was believed that your hair was the gate to your soul. Because the roots of hair run deep, long or short, hair is very deep. It’s like the body and soul’s antennas transmitting energy from a higher realm, while also exuding the deepest, most inner parts of one’s being. Which is why we use the forehead for this cross. We hold on our foreheads a mixture of mess and promise; dirt and oil, sin and purity…but isn’t our life a combination or both of these things. Don’t we all live in these tensions every day as we walk with Jesus?
If Lent is the somber reminder of our human condition, then Easter declares that there is hope, but that hope lies not in escaping our humanity but in journeying through it. Because Lent also points us to the inevitability of suffering and how, even as followers of Jesus, we don’t get a “get out of suffering free” card. We know the hard truth that life without suffering does not exist.
One of my favorite authors, Rachel Held Evans reminds us, in Searching for Sunday, that healing comes when we “enter into one another’s pain, anoint it as holy, and stick around no matter the outcome.”
Anoint it as holy. Think about that.
What would happen if we really believed that? That our suffering, our neighbors’ suffering, was holy? Holy not because God delights in suffering but because God came and joined us within it. Holy in the same way that Communion is holy — the spilled blood, the broken body — because Christ comes and meets us there. Not symbolically, but sacramentally. Incarnationally.
And so tonight, if you are receiving the imposition of ashes at our worship service remember that you are mortal. That you are human (with all the perils and frailty the term implies). And remember that being human is a holy thing. That our mortality is a holy thing. Sanctified by the One who came, the One who died, and the One who rose again.
May we all have courage to face our deaths and walk more fully into life.
What if disregarded junk, had a purpose? I ask you this question this morning because not only does it connect to the sermon on Sunday, but an initiative shared between the church and one of its preschools. Maybe like me, you were raised to think that disregarded junk was not to be messed with, was to be forgotten about, left in the trash for someone else to handle. But in our story from Jonah on Sunday, we learned that God cares about all. God cares about the people, the places and even the animals that are often forgotten about. Remember Jonah and how much he despised the Ninevites? Remember how he thought they were trash and not worth his time? Remember how he was more upset by the withering plant that brought him shade than the over hundred and twenty thousand people who repented and turned from their wicked ways! Do you recall how backwards his priorities really were?
This past Saturday, a lay leader and I drove all the way up to Pinetta, FL, to celebrate the 10th Anniversary of the Madison Youth Ranch. If you don’t know, or haven’t heard me mention it before, I am on the Board of the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home. We are now called Residing Hope and we have quite a story to tell. Starting back in 1908, we were an orphanage, but over the last 115 years, we have grown into something so much more. We recently changed our name to reflect the wide services that the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home provides and to help tell the story of Hope to our neighbors. Now, we have not only a home for at-risk youth, but we also offer counseling services, an Early Learning Preschool, Foster Care, Residential Group Homes, Equine Therapy, Independent Living, Legacy Academy, and Chapel and Religious Community Life. We accept Private and Public youth and we never say no to a youth, no matter how hard their situation is. You may know a little about the Children’s Home because of what you have heard said on 5th Sundays when we take up a special offering to support it, or maybe you made baskets with me on a Serve Day or maybe you have been on campus for a tour. I wanted to invite you to Residing Hope’s Day on Campus, in Enterprise on Saturday, March 8th from 10am until 2pm. I will be there and I would love to tell you more.