Ash Wednesday
A woman receives ashes on Ash Wednesday at Saint Patrick's Cathedral in New York on Feb. 13, 2013. Adrees Latif—Reuters
I didn’t grow up observing Ash Wednesday, did you? Not many Protestant churches took notice of the Christian calendar back in the day. More are now, and I like it. My dad started ordering a beautiful Christian calendar for me several years before he died, and I’ve kept it up since his death. I hang it by my desk and appreciate the reminder of where we are in the year. I also appreciate a Jesuit email I receive every morning that commemorates saint’s days and the Lectionary.
I did a little “research” (Google searches) on Ash Wednesday. I knew already it was the beginning of Lent, and that the minister or priest putting the ashes on your head often said “Remember you're dust, and to dust you shall return.” I wondered if somehow this had to do with “sackcloth and ashes” that the Bible often talks about. I wondered why they would mention dust when we were dealing with ashes, not dust. Turns out the ashes represent dust. Oh. If you’d like to read up on the history and meaning of Ash Wednesday, I’ve put some links below.
In the past few years, whenever Lent comes around, I think of one of my favorite authors, Kate Bowler. Kate was diagnosed with 4th stage abdominal cancer right when it seemed like her life was exactly what she’d hoped. She was married to her childhood sweetheart, after several years of trying they had a child, she was teaching theology at Duke University, and she’d written a book. Life was, as she called it, “shiny and beautiful.” Kate went through many years of chronic illness and pain, hospitalizations and surgeries, and believing her death was imminent. Nine years later she is still with us and has written several books. She often talks about Lent as one of her favorite seasons in the Christian calendar. It is one time, she says, where we in the church are given permission to be sad, to face the reality of how terrible the world can be without immediately talking about all the positive stuff.
I don’t know if I’d call Lent my favorite season, but I very much appreciate Kate’s take on it. I have a friend who is going through a hard time with her adult child and has been for several years now. She and her husband live every day in uncertainty, frustration, and discouragement, with no idea how they can find the help their child needs. Sometimes when we get together, this woman looks incredibly tired. Her eyelids sometimes seem so heavy she looks like she’ll fall asleep if she sits still for a moment. If I express some kind of sympathy or caring, she might say something like, “It is hard,” but immediately she will say things about how their faith helps, or how they rely on their friends and community, or something related to God. I know her faith IS strong and she DOES rely on the support of her friends. Every time it happens, though, I want to hug her and tell her it’s okay for her to feel discouraged and even hopeless. (Maybe I need to do just that!) Feeling disheartened and weary in such difficult situations does not mean that our faith is weak. It’s okay to sit in that weary place for while, to “feel the feelings,” not to rush to reassure others or yourself that “God’s got this.” The image that comes to my mind is a mother holding her crying child. We can rest in God’s love while continuing to cry, the way a child relaxes into the arms of her mother.
Ash Wednesday reminds us that we are human. We are mortal. Death happens. And God is here. God loves us.