Ash Wednesday: The Light from the Meadow Hasn't Failed Yet

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 OR Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Naturally, all of the texts chosen for reading today deal with human sinfulness and the consciousness of it. That is the point of Ash Wednesday, beginning the journey into the long, dark wood of Lent. I will use this metaphor throughout these Lenten reflections: journeying through a dark wood. Lent is always a particularly disturbing time for me. I struggle with the "Lenten fast" every year, trying to determine something to "give up for Lent." For the longest time, I resisted this Christian practice. I saw it as trite, a pathetic attempt to identify with the suffering of Christ for just forty days (not counting Sundays), especially in the cases of people who gave up chocolate or sweets or something that they enjoyed, only to pick it up again after Easter. But then I learned the further dimension of Lent: the point of the giving up is not to give something up for a little bit, but to use the time or moeny you would have spent in acquiring that something or doing that something instead in the furtherance of some spiritual, charitable, or otherwise lofty purpose. Once I realized that, I felt a lot more at ease with the spiritual practice of giving something up for Lent. So I'm setting aside the money I would spend on my sodas at lunch for a special offering on Easter Sunday. I have not yet determined the direction this ought to go in, but that's something I can think about later.

A warning is also sounded in the Gospel lesson about making a public display of the Lenten fast. "But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you" (Matt 6:3-4). This is part of a lengthly list of warnings against public piety, which has always resonated with me in particular. Even when I am speaking at a church or otherwise in a prominent position, I do not like really to be in front of people practicing religion. I do not think religion is a fully private matter, and indeed that that sort of thinking has opened up Protestant Christianity in particular to all sorts of abuses and misunderstandings. But there is defintely something to be said about not wearing one's religion on the sleeve.

But we're just at the beginning of the path through the dark wood. The light from the meadow of Epiphany hasn't quite dimmed yet. More properly, the light from Transfiguration Mountain hasn't quite faded away yet. At the same time, we are drawn inexorably on the path of Lent, the path of suffering that ultimately leads to the ultimate horror of "Good" Friday. So there is a pall of gloom cast over this season. That, beyond all else, is why the Lenten fast should not be treated as a flippant sort of thing. It matters. It is a serious thing. It is a serious call for devotion. It is a serious call for devotion to the Lord who did not go up into glory without first suffering pain. And that is what Lent is about. Amen.