Ash Wednesday
The season of Lent which begins
with today’s worship is one that is fraught with good intentions. Take, for
example, the habit of giving something up for Lent. Name it – chocolate, caffeine, meat, video
games, comic books – whatever it is. The
challenge, of course, is the often-missing connection between that which we are
giving up and the purpose of giving it up in the first place. Sometimes the 40 days of Lent looks more like
a self-improvement plan, a cleanse for the body. A time to restart that New Year’s resolution
that went off the rails. Now, there is
absolutely nothing wrong with a fresh start on a self-improvement plan. There
is nothing wrong with a cleanse. But, I’m just pretty sure it’s not what Lent
is about. And, let me tell you, the year
I gave up caffeine for Lent was not very nice for the people around me.
A similar problem arises with those
who choose instead to take something on for Lent. I can assure you that Andrea would be
thrilled if for each of the next 40 days, I took on the cleaning out of one
room, closet, or drawer at our house. You might feel great if, for the next 40 days,
you take on a commitment to going to the gym each day. But, like the giving up, this sort of taking
on doesn’t seem much different.
And then there are those – and
let’s admit it – we’ve all known them and, if we are honest, we’ve all been
them at one time or another – those who give something up or take something on
and then make sure that everyone around them knows they are doing it and,
better yet, makes sure that everyone knows and appreciates what a tremendous
sacrifice it is. As if the point is to
demonstrate some sort of superior-Christian-status and as if their doing or not
doing - our doing or not doing - is how salvation works in the first
place. I have a feeling this may have
been a concern familiar to the community for whom Matthew’s gospel was
originally written: “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to
be seen by them”. . . “whenever you pray,” do not stand on a street corner “so
that [you] may be seen by others. . . “whenever you fast, do not look dismal. .
. to show others that [you] are fasting.”
So how did we get so off-track with
our Lenten observance? Or, better yet, what can we do to get back on the right
track? Surely Matthew’s gospel doesn’t
mean that we shouldn’t pray or fast. So,
what’s going on. And, this practice of
giving something up or taking something on has been around for a long time.
Perhaps we’ve just lost sight of the connection between the practice and its
purpose.
In the early Church, the season of
Lent was a time of conversion. It was a
time set apart for those who were converting to Christianity to prepare for
their baptism. It was also a time when
those who had already been baptized but who had fallen away prepared to return
to the fellowship of the Church through the intentional work of reconciliation,
penitence and forgiveness. Not wanting
to get too far ahead of ourselves, it is important to remember that the Season
of Lent, ends with The Great Vigil of Easter, the culmination of that
three-day-long single service which begins on Maundy Thursday, continues
through Good Friday and culminates in the renewal of baptismal vows by the
whole gathered community at The Great Vigil.
It was at this Vigil that the early Church baptized new members. In some places it was the only worship time
in the church year when baptism happened at all. And these 40 days of Lent were all about
preparing for that event. Whether or not
we have anyone seeking baptism in our community, we too are called to use our
Lenten observance as a time of reflection on those baptismal promises. Because, at the Great Vigil, when we renew
our baptismal vows, if we want to do so with any sense of integrity or
intentionality, then it makes sense to spend some time reflecting on both the
things we renounced or gave up upon being baptized and those things we promised
to take on when we were baptized.
At The Great Vigil of Easter, you
will be asked, “Do you reaffirm your renunciation of evil and renew your
commitment to Jesus Christ?”[1]
This question is a summary of 6 that are asked of candidates for baptism. The
first three of the 6 are renunciations: Do you renounce Satan and all the
spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God? Do you renounce the evil
powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God? Do you
renounce all sinful desires that draw you from the love of God?[2]
And, after each, the candidate for baptism – or their sponsors if the candidate
is an infant – answers, I renounce them. I turn away from them. I give them up. And, upon renouncing all evil, the candidate
is then asked 3 more questions: Do you
turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Savior? Do you put your whole trust
in his grace and love? Do you promise to follow and obey him as your Lord?[3]
And, after each, the candidate says, “I do.”
I turn my life to Jesus. I take
on Jesus as my only Lord.
I’m always struck that the Gospel
reading for Ash Wednesday stops at verse 21.
If we only read a few more verses we would arrive at the verse when
Jesus says, “No one can serve two masters.”[4] You must turn away from all evil and turn to
Jesus. You must give up your attachments
and take on Jesus or, perhaps more aptly, open yourself to being taken on by
Jesus.
The 40 days of Lent is an
opportunity for us to pay attention to the things we need continually to
renounce, to let go of or give up. Some
of those things are easy to bring to mind. They are the sins that cause us
shame or embarrassment. The sins that can wake us up at night with worry, fear
or anxiety. They are things that we may
need, indeed, to give up – not just for 40 days but for life. And so these 40 days provide us with a right
beginning. But other sins are much
harder to renounce and sometimes they are even difficult to see. The isms
and phobias of our world are an
example – sexism, racism, Islamophobia, homophobia. These, and countless others, are the sins
that have become a part of our institutions (including the church) and our
society as a whole. Sometimes they are
so much a part of the way things are that we just take them for granted as part
of everyday normal functioning – until someone who is hurt or oppressed by them
helps us to see the sin. For these
corporate and institutional sins, renunciation is not as simple as giving them
up. They are woven into the very fabric of our existence. And yet, the season of Lent calls us to a
time of intentionality, a time of prayerful consideration of how we can and
must turn away from these “reigning assumptions of our culture which hold us
captive,” to unhook ourselves from these “false ‘lords and masters’ and turn
(or turn again) to the way of Christ.”[5]
There is no one way to engage in
this work of Lent. But there is one
purpose – reconciliation with God and with one another, turning away from the
evil that enslaves us and turning again to the Christ who saves us. What are you giving up for Lent this
year? I pray that whatever it is it may
be helpful in identifying and renouncing the things in our own lives and in the
institutions we are a part of that are obstacles to the way of Christ. Things that we can ill afford to hang on
to. What are you taking on for Lent? I pray that whatever it is it may be helpful
in dismantling the obstacles that draw us away from the love of God so that we
might be drawn ever closer to the way of Christ.
I invite you to stand. Dear people of God: the first Christians
observed with great devotion the days of our Lord’s passion and resurrection,
and it became the custom of the Church to prepare for them by a season of
penitence and fasting. This season of Lent provided a time in which converts to
the faith were prepared for Holy Baptism. It was also a time when those who,
because of notorious sins, had been separated from the body of the faithful
were reconciled by penitence and forgiveness, and restored to the fellowship of
the Church. Thereby, the whole congregation was put in mind of the message of
pardon and absolution set forth in the Gospel of our Savior, and of the need
which all Christians continually have to renew their repentance and faith.
Several members of St. Mark’s have
expressed a desire to enter this season of repentance and return with renewed
intentionality. At this time, I invite N., N. and N. to come forward.
They have expressed a desire to follow the path of penitence, to turn
again to the way of Christ, and to intentionally prepare to reaffirm their
baptismal promises. The path they will
follow in this season of Lent is not the only path. The path they will follow in this season of
Lent is not a better path. They have agreed to be called forth from among us
today not “so that they may be praised by others” and not “so that they may be
seen by others,” but rather that they might serve as visible signs of the
calling we each have to walk in the ways of Christ, as a means of putting
before each of us the message of pardon and absolution set forth in the Gospel.
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