“Remember you are dust and unto dust you shall return.” These words we hear every Ash Wednesday as we receive our ashes as we begin the holy season of Lent. Our mortality is front and center. We are reminded rather bluntly that we are finite beings.
Like the flowers of the field we flourish but then we fade. Our existence is like a blip on a computer screen, here today gone tomorrow. And in addition to our short life span we need to add our brokenness, our choices toward unloving and harmful behaviors. The big theological word for this brokenness is called sin.
I remember as a child I hated the season of Lent. I was born into a very observant Roman Catholic family and attended parochial school. The penitential trappings were everywhere to be found in my daily life. All the statues and the crucifix in the church were covered with purple cloths, the holy water fonts were empty (sometimes they were filled with sand).
The music for liturgies were not very uplifting. Our teachers didn’t permit any laughter or happy talk. Going to school and church on Sunday was like going to a funeral, one that lasted for 40 days!
It wasn’t much better at home. You see, in those days, adults were too fast every day. That meant only one full meal with maybe two smaller amounts of food during the day. Snacking was not permitted. In addition to that, the faithful were encouraged to give up something for Lent.
So, every year my dad, who was an avid smoker, would give up smoking. My mom, along with her sisters, would give up sweets and chocolate. Well life in the house was rather hellish by about the fourth day of Lent.
My dad would have had a piece of toast and maybe a cup of coffee early in the morning and leave for work. My mother too would have dry toast and coffee and get us off to school. By suppertime and the only full meal of the day, they were both nervous wrecks, since they hadn’t eaten much all day and the withdrawal from the nicotine and the sugar made things worse.
They were usually yelling at each other or at us. Usually by the 4th day, my dad had gone back to smoking his cigarettes, mad at himself for his lack of self-denial.
My mother fared a bit better at her chocolate candy fast. You see Sundays didn’t count in the 40 day abstention deal. So on Sundays, she would visit her sisters and the four of them would gorge themselves on chocolate and other sweets so they could make it through another week.
Giving up candy, nicotine and happy talk didn’t really help bring my family closer to God during Lent. Sometimes I think we miss the boat on what Lent is really all about.
Instead of focusing on our mortality and returning to the dust of which we were made, I find the alternate Ash Wednesday blessing more holistic and life giving. We read in the Adam and Eve story in the garden, when they failed God, God did not abandon humanity. God’s promise to restore humanity to the original blessing comes about in the person of Jesus.
He not only came to save us but to show us how to live forever. That is why for me and hopefully for you, “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel” are words that bring hope and healing for this season of Lent. A way to prepare ourselves for the blessings of Easter.
Let’s turn away from sin or if you must give up something for Lent, how about giving up sin. Easy to say, very hard to do.
Turn away from gossip and mean words meant to destroy hope. Turn away from greed instead share your gifts and possessions with others especially those who have less. Turn away from anger and offer patience and peace to others. Turn away from envy and be grateful for what you have. Turn away the false gods of money and status and worship God alone.
Lent is a season of hope, of new beginnings. Let’s leave our failures, our brokenness, our sin behind. Jesus shows us the way to turn away from sin so we truly rise with him on Easter Sunday.
Blessed Lenten journey to you.
Notes: Image Diocese of Portland