Every year Christians from around the world and throughout Church history have gathered on Ash Wednesday to commemorate the beginning of Lent and to have ash smeared on their foreheads.
An odd ritual, to be sure, but a profound one. Ash Wednesday, after Christmas, is probably the most serious reflection on the goodness of creation. We are reminded by the words of Genesis that we are dust and to dust we return (Genesis 3:19). We are reminded that we are physical creatures, not just spiritual ones. And the importance of this fact is highlighted in the incarnation of Christ.
Christ left eternity and entered our familiar, dusty, bloody, sin-filled, beautiful, reality. He came not to destroy it, but to redeem it (John 3:17). Not to say, “this was a mistake,” but rather to say, “let me show you what you were truly created to be.” Christ’s incarnation is not just an affirmation of our physicality, but a promise that it matters and that God will restore it. And this restoration will not simply return us to the Edenic ideal, but to a far greater vision, the vision God began but which was interrupted by sin (Romans 8:18-25).
This brings us back to Ash Wednesday. It is more than a reminder of our humanity. It is a reminder of our frailty, our fallenness, and our need for redemption.
Historically, Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent, a forty-day journey to the cross. This was meant to be a symbolic repetition of Israel’s forty years of wandering in the desert (Deuteronomy 8:2) and Jesus’s own forty-day temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11). It was meant to follow the way of Christ, especially for new catechumens preparing for their Easter baptism and first communion. Eventually, this practice spread to all Christians, who entered a season of fasting and prayer in preparation for the Easter celebration.
Easter, the Sunday of Sundays. The highest holy day of the Christian calendar. Christmas may get more press and fuss, but Easter is the heart of the Gospel. Without Easter, Jesus would be just another in a long line of would-be messiahs who failed the ultimate test of legitimacy (1 Corinthians 15:14-17).
Yet one may ask: if Easter is so triumphant, why do we prepare for it with reflection, repentance, and fasting? Would you not normally spend your preparation time planning the parties, making the food, and doing all the things we do at Christmas? But Easter is different.
We prepare in solemness precisely because of how profound the celebration is. Easter proclaims that Jesus won the victory. But victory over what? Why was Easter necessary?
It was and is necessary precisely because of our sin. We are redeemed, yes, but we still live in a sin-filled world, dealing with our own sin (Romans 7:15-25). We are called in this life to walk the way of the cross, to walk as Jesus did in love and worship of God and in service to neighbor (Mark 12:29-31). And yet, regrettably, we find that we fail more often than we succeed.
The Book of Common Prayer holds a confession that calls us to reflect upon our sin and to call upon a merciful God to forgive us. This prayer, more than a liturgical piece, can act as a catechism in confession, identifying the ways we have failed and helping us see the ways we might not normally notice. Here is the prayer:
Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us, that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen.
As we begin Lent, I invite you to journey with me through this season using this prayer. Each week in Lent, we will look at one piece of the prayer and reflect on what it teaches, what it calls us to, and how we might live into it. One thing you may find missing from my reflections is a key application point or suggested spiritual practice. This is intentional. I do not want you to see Lent as a check box, “I’ve done my task,” but rather I want to cast a vision of faithfulness that forces you to sit with the Holy Spirit and ask, “How should I apply this in my life?”
Far from being a depressive season, Lent is a hopeful one. Lent teaches that, with the help of the Holy Spirit, we can change. We can become more like Christ, walk more faithfully in the way of the Cross, and live into the joy of Easter.
This Ash Wednesday, remember that you are dust, you are physical, you are human. Remember that this is a good thing. Take the journey with Jesus to the cross and eventually to Easter. Your humanity is not something to escape, but something to live into with the help of the Spirit, seeing the goodness of creation in the surprising act of Easter. So let us begin this season with honesty, hope, and trust in the God who makes dust come alive.
