Ash Wednesday – 2020: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.
So, got your Lent cards and presents ready? What about those purple lights on the roof, and the burnt palm tree in your house? I mean, it seems like only yesterday it was Ash Wednesday last year, and there’s just so much to do, right? No?
Now of course, I have never heard anyone rushing out to the store to buy a roast for Ash Wednesday, or worried about the in-laws coming to town to celebrate it. And not one kid I ever knew counted the days until Ash Wednesday evening.
And that’s what always gives me hope. Why?
Because there isn’t this major commercial draw to being here tonight. To be honest, it isn’t even a service filled with lively joyous music. Everything is toned down, somber, introspective. We don’t hang shiny decorations, or even wear our Sunday best. Rather we willingly come forward to have burnt palm smudged on our head in the shape of a cross (or so the priest tries anyway).
And so the focus is on one thing, and one thing only – the sacrament itself. Ash Wednesday is unique that way. And to some degree, so is the season of Lent itself. We remove all the silver and gold – even covering the crosses with cloth – and replace our chalices with ceramic, our candlesticks with wood. We don’t say the A-word that accompanies so many a hymn, and it is removed from our dismissal. We don’t get a blessing at the end of the service, and to top it all off – we kneel a lot more too. Yet, people come – without any pressure to do so, without endless commercials reminding them, without any entertainment value…they come for the sacrament, and that’s what gives me hope. They are the lucky ones.
Well, maybe lucky isn’t the right word to use, but tonight I will invite you on behalf of the church into a Holy Lent, and that, my friends, is a gift. Sure, it isn’t all shiny and loud, but it will bring you blessings beyond anything old St. Nick could ever load on any sleigh.
Now you might reasonably be thinking – isn’t this all about penitence, fasting, and so on? Not exactly. If we really pay attention to the gospel, Jesus talks about intention. He tells his disciples not to fast, pray, or give to those in need like those he calls hypocrites. What’s the distinction that makes these folks hypocrites? Is it those who are rich or powerful, poor or marginalized? He makes no comment about that at all. Rather, he is speaking about what is in a person’s heart when they do things that should be bringing their focus back to God. Because the nature of the specific act is less important than why one is doing it.
This is a time when we are called to change things up in our lives – not because what we are doing is necessarily bad. God created chocolate and beer after all. But so that we might focus more on what is important – that we might return home.
The thing is, we are so very busy – in fact, we are busy with our busy-ness, aren’t we? Yet tonight you are invited, implored really, to let go of all that distracts you from who you are – to come home to God. And we begin that journey tonight.
A night when we remember the fragility of life that we might turn our attention to what matters most in the time that we have.
And a night when the church makes it abundantly clear that no one person is more deserved of God’s grace and love than another. For you see, everyone is given the same mark – rich or poor, famous or not, all races and cultures, no matter who you love, what gender you claim, what language you speak – no matter all the accomplishments in the world that are yours, or what sins against yourself or others you have committed. Everyone gets the ash mark on their forehead – everyone faces the same fragile existence – everyone is a beloved child of God.
So tonight you begin to return home – and that journey is about returning to the fullness of relationship with God – and relationships, healthy ones anyway, are never a one way street. You must also show your love, as God shows hers.
But this piety, to use the churchy word for loving God, isn’t about grand gestures of reverence, wallowing in a pool of unworthiness, or flogging ourselves in some sort of self-imposed abuse. Would we ever want that for someone we loved? If we wouldn’t, why then do we think God, who loves us beyond measure, would want that for us either?
God does want something from us, but not that. God’s desire for us is a change of how we live – a change that will bring us home. As we hear from God in Isaiah: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;”
This mark on your forehead tonight is a reminder to begin that fast – the one that puts you in right relationship with God – the one that is all about you…because it is nothing about you.
Tonight, you are invited to begin a journey with Jesus that could, if you accept it, change you in ways you haven’t even begun to consider, and enrich you beyond your wildest imagination.
Tonight, you begin the journey to come home.
To come home here – every week – to take in the sacrament of Christ’s grace in the Eucharist.
To come home here – every week – to be still, and absorb the beauty of holiness.
To come home here – every week – to remember what is really important – and to remind your children of what is really important too.
To come home here – every week – where you are seen, where you are welcome, where you are loved – just for being who you are as a beloved child of God.
Will you continue the journey, or turn away when you leave here tonight and let the world take over your life?
The choice is yours.
Amen.
For the audio from the 7:30pm service, click below, or subscribe to our iTunes Sermon Podcast by clicking here:
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
February 26, 2020
Ash Wednesday
1st Reading – Isaiah 58:1-12
Psalm 103:8-14
2nd Reading – 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
Gospel – Matthew 6:1-6,16-21
