Just some short thoughts from Ash Wednesday.
Today in chapel we had the traditional imposition of ashes. When the ashes were imposed on my forehead in the sign of the cross these words were spoken to me (or at least very close to these) "from dust you came, to dust you will return, now go and live in the shadow of the cross." Wow, such powerful words. Ash Wednesday is about us, about our sin, and about God breaking into history through the incarnation to mend the brokenness and redeem humanity.
One "profound" thing that really struck me today was this. I often forgot I had ashes on my forehead during the day. It was often only when I saw the cross on someone else's forehead that I remembered that I too was living in the reality of being marked by the cross. It seems to me that this experience beautifully symbolizes the body of Christ. Sometimes when things get rough or when life gets hard we forget that we are living lives that are marked by the cross. We forget that we are really the living dead because "those who are baptized are already dead" (JD Walt). Sometimes it takes the community of faith, the great cloud of witnesses, to remind us of the shadow that we live in. Oh that the true cross that we carry was as visible to everyone as the ashes that we wear on our foreheads. We are truly a people marked by the cross, that is what our baptism represents, that is the pinnacle of our existence. We are people of the cross! May that marking permeate all aspects of our lives.
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We were going to go to the ash services here at Georgetown (which is a Jesuit Catholic school by name) and then two things came up and we ended up forfeiting and just reading our Lent book at home. But as I went about my day WITHOUT ashes on my head, passing by numerous people WITH ashes on their head, I felt kind of queasy. Becuase Georgetown is NOT really a place where people outwardly seem to display the love of God and the kindness of Christ. And when I went to class tonight across town, the only person in there with ashes on her forehead was the girl whom I can't stand becuase she whines and complains and is negative and rude all the time. And at the end of the day, all I really wanted was NOT to have ashes on my face becuase I didn't want to be identified with the religiousity of Christianity and sacrament for traditions sake. I guess that's not so unique to any one generation. there will always be people who claim Christ but don't prove Christ. I guess it shouldn't stop me from identifying in that manner...
Thoughts oh great preacher one?
Hey Ben...can you send me your mailing address? Thanks :-)
word, dude
[i think that means amen]
dlh
Tegan,
Why do you call me great? There is only one who is great. Ha ha, i couldn't resist.
That truly is the problem. I long to not be associated with many people who follow the rites and rituals but do not follow the hard path of Christ. Shoot, I even sometimes find myself not wanting to be connected with schmucks like James Dobson, Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell and the like (I would put Joel Olsteen in there but I think he might fit best in the first category because nothing he says matches with the Kingdom of God.)
I guess that's the dilema we live with since we have so much freedom to celebrate Christianity. It seems like it's so easy to be a Christian that people don't htink twice about calling themselves that. (Yet another reason why we need a persecution).
I guess the only solace that I find is that I don't know their hearts, and maybe God will do something through them by via the sacraments, community, and imposition of ashes.
It also makes me think of when I was at houghton. Dr. Brittain asked me to be a Communion steward and hald the cup for those coming to take communion. I stood there in the front of the chapel and looked out, seeing the line form before me. I saw faces of people that I had disaggreements with, people who I thought weren't living the Christian life and others whom I didn't even know. My heart was broken and when I think about it I remember that yeah, maybe they're not living right, maybe they're sucking at life right now, but God still loves them and if they are indeed in the flock then they are my sisters and brothers in Christ.
I guess that's the approach I take.
I guess part of me wishes that God would take more radical action when people use His name to support a lifestyle or perspective or agenda that has nothing to do with who He actually is and what He actually stands for. Like lightning from heaven, or else simply that, whenever people try to claim Christ who aren't actually living as ones who are being transformed by Him day by day, they would be dumbstruck (literally) so they physically couldn't blaspheme. But then I am reminded that, if that were the way He chose to work, I would also be counted among those blasted by lightning or struck mute...Which is why one of my favourite parts of the Ash Wednesday liturgy was when Pastor Jon reminded us as he put the cross on our foreheads that we, too, are but dust and ashes. And THAT, my friend, was humbling. IS humbling. To see how imperfectly and brokenly I, too, bear the image of Christ, and that the only thing that makes me able to boast is that God's grace is making me holy. It is an interesting paradox, to bear fully the weight of both our own brokenness and the glorious knowledge of full redemption! Not that we, as a church should tolerate hypocrisy, but that my own awareness that sometimes I am that hypocrite, too, makes it easier to extend the same grace to them which has been extended to me, and if rebuke is necessary, that it is done in love. (And I can SAY all this, but putting it into practice is definitely still a daily struggle!)
I think it is in the process of understanding how to properly use our own ashes in the face of those who we wish wouldn't wear theirs that God teaches us most about him. In one fell swoop we (or at least I) learn humility, action, desire to serve, and what it means to live in community. We see all these things because we, like the other people walking around with a physical reminder of sin are now marked for the world to see. The interesting thing is that even though the reminder is of sin and its role in our life it is just the opposite of it that causes us to walk around with the reminder on our respective forheads. As we look at one another wearing ashes like Job (okay not like Job but at least a connectin can be made here), we should probably take caution to not give the "wise" advice that his friends did that they aren't fit for God's best. Instead the shared experience that causes us to need the ashes and want to wear them ought to cause us to desire common ground (if not a lot of time spent together).
Great stuff Ben, I look forward to reading more.
A similar profundity from the opposite end of the liturgical spectrum: waiting worship with Friends. It's a far cry from the imposition of ashes, or from chapel at Houghton for that matter. Nothing is spoken, necessarially, during the hour's worship. The pews in the worship room on campus are arranged in a square so that no one is sitting in the front or in the back; we sit facing one another. In less formal venues, chairs and couches are shoved into a circle to make space.
If someone feels a leading, they'll pray, or speak, or sing, but generally it's quiet. The overt togetherness of it was hard to get used to, having spent so long worshipping at the backs of people's heads, but it's that togetherness that holds me in worship. Everytime I open my eyes in worship, I'm surrounded by the worshipping Body.
All this to say, I'm glad I ran across your blog. :o)
~julie
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