The ashes of a well-lived life

A sermon preached at Faith Episcopal Church on Ash Wednesday, March 1, 2006.

I always find the liturgy of Ash Wednesday to be contradictory, particularly the Gospel reading and then our practice of putting ashes on our foreheads. Jesus specifically says “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them.” He tells us to live out our faith in a modest, quiet way, without calling attention to signs of our belief. But we come together tonight in part to do just that. Unless you have really long bangs, a big black smudge on your forehead is a rather conspicuous mark of piety. Is it a good thing or is it not?

Jesus’ words must always be taken in context, we have many examples of his disdain for those who make a big show of being holier than holy while not really living it. It is that sort of hypocrisy that Jesus abhors. The Bible is full of examples of ashes being worn as a sign of mourning, sorrow, shame, penitence. They are the image of ruin – Job’s cry “I have become like dust and ashes!”

But there’s another side to ashes. They are the sign that all that can be used has been and there is power in that. My sister sent me a humorous email this week that illustrates this power. “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out screaming “WOO HOO what a ride!”

That's the kind of ashes I want to be. I want to go to bed each night knowing I didn't waste anything during the day, knowing that I gave away all the love I could or shared my blessings. I want to be able to say "I lived this day so fully that all that was left was ashes, all the hours were well spent laughing and loving or crying with someone who was comforted by a companion in grief. I want to make sure that I put all my fuel into the fire to warm someone else. Or that I made a casserole out of everything in my cupboard and invited a hungry person to share it. Am I there yet? Some days closer than others but tonight, I will wear ashes to remind myself to live like a consuming fire, not for myself but to be a small flame to light the kingdom come.

We are invited to begin a holy Lent - not just for itself as a practice but so that something is better by the time we get to the end of it and without hesitation we can shout "Alleluia!"