The Ashes of Our Mortality

 What a particular moment in time for the beginning of this season of Lent!

We are emerging from the shadow of two years of pandemic

            having lost loved ones, 

            having been separated from each other,

            seeing many elements of what was once dependable in our culture 

                        now unstable or failing us, 

                        unreliable for seeing us through the future

                                    and whatever that might bring 

                                                given the changes in climate 

that are also taking from us what we have loved and relied upon in the past.

 

It is a time of grief.

 

So these words from the Prophet Joel came to me:

“Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart,

            with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;

rend your hearts and not your clothing.”

 

This describes the heart being pulled to the point of being torn,

            revealing an atmosphere of grief and mourning.

 

The global scale of grief is apparent in the war going on in Ukraine,

            and the flight of refugees, not just from there,

                        but from Afghanistan, South America, and elsewhere.

 

Now, there are no soldiers of ours being killed in battle,

            but how countless are the victims of war, any war, 

                                    and of violence both far away and close at hand, here too.

 

Grief is the rending of the heart.

 

Grief, you may be surprised, actually serves a beneficial purpose.

            The deaths of those dear to us, 

            or the deaths young people dying before their time,

            or the deaths of women and children and the old and infirm 

                        by the violence of warfare or crime

pokes us sharply enough to remind us that we too will die.

 

In this we are somberly made aware of the fact of our own mortality.

            We won’t get out of this alive.

 

Am I being morbid?  all this reference to death.

            I don’t intend for these remarks to sound morbid.

            They are intended as a reality check,

                        a healthy way to stimulate us to look at where we are going.

Folks, it’s a race to the grave for us all.

 

For some of us, that grave is no longer off in the distance;

            it’s looming on the horizon.

 

Maybe it’s just me. 

My recent announcement of “retirement” is one of those life transition points.

            My innards have been communicating to me 

                                    “You are old, and getting older and starting to wear out.” 

            They tell me I am past my prime.

 

The warranty has run out on some of the parts.

The sag in the skin is here to stay.

The ache in the elbow when the barometer changes,

            a process of disintegration is in slow progress,

                        a gradual gift from God to help us disengage 

            from holding on too tightly to life here in this plane of existence.

 

Our mortality is the back story, the reason for this liturgy today.

Ashes, the burnt palms from the Palm Sundays of past years,

            are marked in the sign of the cross on our forehead in the same place

            where the oil of chrism marked the sign of the cross at our baptisms.

 

The sign of the cross, this time with different words than we heard at baptism:

This time:            “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

 

It is good for us to be here today, to begin another Lent 

                        with holy fasting, with self-reflection and with ashes,

            the ashes of our mortality, what is left behind of the desiccated body

                                    shrunk down to an urn that we put in a niche

                                                on the other side of that wall.

 

These are not the ashes associated with public displays of fasting 

            that the Gospel for today speaks of.

These are the ashes of grief over our mortal condition.

 

The words spoken by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount

            warn us to be carefully self-reflective about 

                        our motivations behind our public acts of worship.

Do we secretly want to have people think of us 

            as good, morally upright people, 

            not self-righteous, but exhibiting signs of repentance?

Really?  Is that why we wear these ashes on our faces?

                                    for what other people will think

What sort of a temporary status does that give you?

            It is seen by few 

            and lasts for much less time than it takes 

                        to update your status on Facebook,

                        where your “friends” can hit the like button.

 

No, these are the ashes of what we will look like after death.

This is tremendously important for us to get about Ash Wednesday

            as we begin another Lent.

We start with death, our common human condition,

            and walk with it 40 days to the cross,

                        where another Death 

            brings the end of death’s reign of terror over all humankind.

                                    Ultimate Gospel Good News.

 

Forty days we set aside for intentional spiritual work

            of fasting, prayer and reflection on scripture and on our lives.

                        both of these – reflection on scripture AND our lives.

 

Death looming on the horizon is a great spiritual gift

            for awakening us to question the meaning of our lives,

                        the course and direction of our lives,

                        the goal of our lives,

                        the value of our lives.

 

Once someone related to me 

            the conversations she had had with two different neighbors.

Both of them did not profess any religious affiliation, did not go to church,

            had left that long ago.

Yet both independently had expressed the same need for Lent!

They thought Lent was a good idea, helpful,

            for having a designated space of time devoted to personal reflection.

 

If those outside the Church see the value of Lent 

                        (whether they observe it or not),

            then don’t ignore or devalue 

                                                what Lent has to offer us sitting here in church!

 

Let me come back to those words I quoted from the Prophet Joel,

            excellent words for personal reflection

            

“Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart,

                        with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;

            rend your hearts and not your clothing.

Return to the Lord, your God,

            for he is gracious and merciful, 

                        slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love…”

 

Rend your hearts and not your clothing, 

            not just the outer layer of your self identity 

                                    depicted through your wardrobe choices.

Rend your hearts.

Let them be torn open.

Let Jesus’ holy Spirit, like a gentle hurricane, shred what cloaks your heart.

 

When Jesus died, Matthew’s Gospel tells us, 

            the curtain in the Temple that covered the Holy of Holies,

                                    which was the heart center of Jewish worship,

            that curtain was torn in two, top to bottom,

and the heart was exposed, the center of being.

 

In that dramatic action, we can see the effect and the power,

            the efficacy of Christ’s death for us

that tears its way through all the veils to the place

                        where our deepest desires and loves and hurts and hopes reside.

 

His death brings liberating life for us.

 

So we no longer need fear the disintegration of our mortal bodies,

            for God’s love expressed through Jesus is gracious and merciful, 

                        slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

 

Our work this Lent is to give up and let our hearts be rent open

            to this Love.

 

May this be a blessed and happy Lent for each of you

            so that we may prepare with joy for the Paschal feast.