Clean out your closet for Lent

A sermon for Ash Wednesday, 2009

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to put on ashes and I’ve come to the realization that there are two ways to do it.

One is to say, I expect ashes, I deserve only ashes, so I will heap them on my head and they are what I will get. I will see the world as burnt and smell the smoke of disappointment. I will surround myself with and hold on to thoughts of that which I do not want. This is the truth behind my favorite teaching that worrying is like praying for what you don’t want.

I don’t play golf but Peter does and he tells me that when you step up and address the ball and say to yourself, “don’t slice it, don’t slice it, don’t slice it” you will perversely slice it into the trees or out of bounds where only poison ivy and rattle snakes live. For some reason, our mind overlooks the “don’t” and goes straight to the “slice it!”

This holds true with small children. How often has “don’t tease the dog” or “don’t me look that way” been followed by a snarling encounter with the family pet or some mutinous, eyes boring a hole through you glare. The child does not process the “don’t”; they hear “tease the dog”, “look at me that way.” You have just prayed for what you don’t want.

The Calvinist strand of Christian thought proclaims the “total depravity of humankind” which means that we are completely and irretrievably sinful, incapable of choosing for ourselves to do or be good. It denies the power of having been made in the image of God. While Anglican thought does not put such teaching forward, many of our lives do. We don’t like ourselves, we assume that no one else does either. We look at peace and joy and goodness and unconditional love don’t see that they are possible for us. So we clothe ourselves in the garments of fear, guilt, despair and hopelessness. We don’t really like the way we look in them, but we don’t seem to know how to buy something that looks different. We just put them on because they are familiar and we hold onto the things we don’t want.

Well, there is another way to accept the ashes of this Wednesday. And that is to see them as all that is left of something that you have released, something that you no longer wrap around you day in and day out. Ashes can be a symbol of freedom. I would encourage you, use this Lent as a time of letting go of anything that limits the most beautiful expression of the image of God within you. Go into your closet, turn on the light and examine what is there. Is there a “nothing works out for me” shirt hanging there? Throw it on the floor. Is there a resentment dress? Every time you put it you look in the mirror and say “I don’t look as good in this as my sister would? Throw it on the pile. Do you see an abandonment sweater? You’ve got one of those, too. I think it’s actually a sweater set, you pile them on and clutch them tight so they won’t leave you. How about anger shoes, the ones that hurt your toes with every step you take? Not knowing how to forgive will certainly cause blisters so throw those on the pile. Maybe you have one of those great big puffy down “I wear this so people can’t really see who I am” coats. You know what to do with it. Now, get a match – it shouldn’t take any lighter fluid because this stuff is pretty volatile. As these old clothes burn, throw anything else that limits you and says that you aren’t good enough into the flames.

If you are like me, after this little ash producing exercise, you probably have a pretty empty closet. No one else gets to choose what you put in there and there only one rule for your new wardrobe. It must all look like some form of “I’m OK. I am loved. I have something wonderful to give to the world and life is a joyous adventure.”

Turning to ashes all of the old, unnecessary stuff that gets in the way of peace and joy and abundance is a good use of the season of Lent. It’s not easy work and therefore worthy of the seriousness of the season.