Cara Spaccarelli

Ash Wednesday, 2-9-05

 

Strangely enough, there is no Lent aisle in Target.  No ashes, no palm branches, or crosses prominently on display to catch the shopper’s eye.  Having just put away my Advent/Christmas decorations last week, I could not help but notice the absence in my closet of any box marked LENT/EASTER.  And it made me think about the differences between these two seasons of preparation and the reaction of the wider culture to them.  In Advent, there are constant reminders to prepare ourselves for Christmas at least in the culture’s interpretation of what that means.  On the other hand, our culture does little to observe the season of Lent - no Easter songs played over the department store speakers or news channels letting us know there are just 25 shopping days left to the Resurrection.  Lent and Easter, apart from a few roving bunnies and plastic colored eggs, are pretty much left alone for Christian churches to observe.  So what do we do with that?

 

Growing up Lent just seemed to me an obligatory precursor to Easter – a season that was always marked by my mother’s commitment to give up chocolate and her attempt to involve me in her endeavor.  But I was not to be fooled – Girl Scout cookies were always delivered a week into Lent and I refused to abstain in that season of the year.  But we always had to commit to something that would make us suffer – giving over our allowance, giving up TV, giving up ice cream.  We were called to suffer because Christ suffered on the cross. I bought this for a number of years until I thought that it seemed a bit presumptuous to assume my giving up my nightly dessert was even in the same realm as the suffering of Christ.  In the face of that realization, Lent simply became a time that began with pancakes and listening attentively in the service for who forgot and said the A-word in church. 

 

But there is a problem with cruising into Easter Sunday without a conscious change in routine.  Easter is a big day – some would say the big day in the life of the church - it is the day that we celebrate our reconciliation to God through Christ – but what is the purpose of celebrating this with any sincerity if we do not first intentionally prepare for and live out this reconciliation in our daily life.

In the Old Testament reading today, the Lord calls to his people, “Return to me with all your heart.”  Paul in his letter to the Corinthians implores them to “be reconciled to God.” This is the essential purpose of the time of self-examination and preparation known as Lent – be reconciled with God.  This means that we live our lives based on our relationship with God, listening for what God is calling us to do and who God is calling us to be.  The Imposition of ashes on our foreheads is a reminder of a necessary step in being reconciled to God.  We are marked on the forehead with ashes as a symbol that we belong to God – we have submitted ourselves to God’s transforming power.   As these ashes are placed on each of our heads, the words “thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return," are spoken, reminding us that while our earthly lives may be transient, our relationship with God endures -            A relationship that is often in need of reconciliation when it becomes the victim of our busy lives.

 

 

So why are these forty days special?  Some of you have been listening to sermons a few years longer than I have, but I have not heard a single one yet that said it was okay to live unreconciled to God.  In fact, every week, we as a community turn to God in prayer and seek and express our reconciliation with God through worship, the rituals of our liturgy like the Confession and the Communion, and in our relationships with one another.  

 

So, if we are not engaging in any new purpose in Lent – what make it so distinct.  An answer lies in the readings today.  The Hebrews that the prophet Joel is speaking to in today’s reading have a routine for reconciling themselves with God.  When a problem arises – a drought, an impending war, they gather as a community in the temple, they fast, they cry, they pray, they beg forgiveness, they tear their clothes – an outward sign of their submissive penitence.  But Joel says to them, “Rend your hearts and not your clothing.” Tear your hearts       Open your hearts    Joel is pleading with them to become vulnerable to God in a way that strikes the core of their being, not just in surface appearance.  In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus also calls for a change.  He tells the people not to fast in the manner that they are accustomed – showing others that they are fasting by not washing their face and sitting in ashes - No, not that way, Jesus says, but instead be clean and do not let others know what you are doing

 

I believe that Jesus is delivering a similar message as Joel -  if we get too caught up in the outward signs of the ritual, we prevent a dynamic interaction between ourselves and God from occurring.  The activity becomes a physical act and not a spiritually transformative practice.

 

 Rend your heart not your clothing.

 

Perhaps you have had a time of spiritual self-examination.  Perhaps you have chosen activities or rituals that fulfill you spiritually, or perhaps you have just fallen into some.  Maybe they include daily Scripture reading or contemplative prayer, journal-writing, praying before meals, prayer groups, Bible studies, volunteering, and on and on.  Chances are that you have fallen into a pattern.  Because that is what we do, we fall into patterns.  We take the same route to work, buy the same foods at the grocery store, pick the same dishes at our favorite restaurant, watch the same TV shows, and so on.  In our society of abundant, endless options, and images we make choices and we cultivate our lives around these choices.  Patterns can be incredibly important in drawing us closer to God by forming who we are.  Our church’s own liturgy is full of ritual that hopes through the same practices every week we both express who we are and shape who we become.  But there is a danger in solidifying the patterns and rituals of our lives no matter how well-intentioned and spiritually based they are.  They can become so much a part of us that we forget to reflect on why we are doing them in the first place and they thereby lose their power to transform us.  Or they can become an external expectation upon us – something that we do as not to disappoint others or worse, impress others with the façade of faith that only serves to undermine what we long to attain.  We become susceptible to the sin of familiarity. 

 

Rend your heart and not your clothing.

 

Both Joel and Matthew recognize a danger that is still present today – the danger of empty ritual -the power it has to lull the sincere worshipper into a false sense of security allowing the practice to persevere without permeating the soul.  Penitence and self-examination are not practices unique to Lent.  But Lent is a time marked out in the life of the people of this church to intentionally examine ourselves and see potentially new ways that we are being called to allow God to permeate our life – in what way are we being called to open our hearts to allow God to interact with us, to transform us, to prepare us for the ultimate reconciliation in Easter.

 

In my experience, hearts do not open to God on command.  It takes more than a mental desire to experience God’s reconciling power in our life.  It takes making oneself vulnerable to God.  Think of an area of your life that is in need of God’s presence to transform it into what it is supposed to be.  A place that you have been too fearful to go.  Too scared that you will be made vulnerable.  We typically know the things we are avoiding – the ways we are not submitting ourselves to God.  Perhaps it is a relationship with a friend, a family member, perhaps even within yourself that you need to ask for God’s presence – something that you are delaying because you know that once you invite God in – you are not in control anymore.                      Or perhaps there is a need for God’s reconciliation in a relationship with people that you have never met, necessary because living in reconciliation with God also means living in reconciliation with all of God’s people.  Perhaps you sit in your car at the stoplight of any exit ramp in this town staring straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with the person holding a cardboard sign fearful of what your heart will feel if you look.  Or perhaps it is the situation in Iraq that you are putting out of your mind – you turn off the news when it comes on and a dozen dead seems like it is just another day – perhaps there is a need to pause for each loss of life of a child of God’s to remember the suffering of the people throughout this world.  Or perhaps it is a spiritual practice that you are carefully avoiding – contemplative prayer – if I’m not busy and distracted for twenty minutes twice a day what will prevent me from thinking about the things that I don’t want to think about. For each person the call to experience God is different, but for all there is the potential for transformation. 

 

And it all involves vulnerability to God which inevitably leads us to vulnerability to the world.  Rend your heart and not your clothing.  As we step forward to receive ashes, consider them a reminder of the call for all of us to submit ourselves to God, and consider whether this Lent you are willing to be vulnerable to God allowing for the transforming power of reconciliation to manifest in your life.         

 

Amen