Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down!

Ash Wednesday 2015; Mt. 6:1-6, 16-21; St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 2/17/15

Jim Melnyk: “Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down”

How many of you recall the old nursery rhyme, “Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down!”?  Do you remember singing the rhyme, perhaps while holding hands in a circle and then all falling down at the end?  Did you know that legend says it has to do with the plagues that rocked Europe centuries ago?  Some say the ring around the rosie was about the circular rash plague victims exhibited, and that the posies were used to cover the smell of death.  Ashes – and American addition – had to do with the cremation of the dead or perhaps even the London fire that helped end the plague.  Falling down – that’s what happens at the end. Even if some scholars are correct and it doesn't date back to the period of the European plagues, the imagery certainly fits.

Okay – so Ash Wednesday isn’t about the plague – but it does have something to do with our mortality – with the reality that we come from the earth and to the earth we all return.  But one danger of Ash Wednesday is that with all the language of sinfulness and penitence which we’re about to rehearse once again in a few minutes, we can get fixated on being broken – perhaps even being unworthy.  We can “easily slip into” what a former colleague of mine, the Very Rev. Todd Donatelli, refers to as “the bad theology that our primary identity is our fallenness, our brokenness, and forget that we approach our brokenness from God’s proclamation of our inherent goodness, our inherent blessedness and belovedness, our being created in the image of God” (The Very Rev. Todd Donatelli, Dean of The Cathedral of All Souls).

The antidote for avoiding such bad theology is to recall what we have learned about God and about ourselves during the season of Epiphany.  “Without Epiphany,” Todd writes, “Lent is dangerous and dishonest.  Epiphany is about the manifestation of God in human flesh; the manifestation of God in Jesus’ flesh and the ongoing manifestation of God in all human flesh including yours and mine,” he writes.

As we prepare to enter into our Lenten Journey, let’s take a moment to recall what we have learned over the past six weeks.  We began Epiphany with the remembrance of God choosing to become one with us in the person of Jesus, and with wise men coming on the scene to pay homage and proclaim the mystery of the Word Made Flesh (Matthew 2:1-12).  We stood by the banks of the Jordan River and witnessed the Baptism of our Lord – and through Mark’s narration became privy to the Voice of God assuring Jesus that he was indeed God’s own Beloved – someone in whom God was well pleased (Mark 1:11).  We learned that Jesus called everyday people to follow him – and that following Jesus means being willing to risk the proclamation of the kingdom of God – even to those who are threatened by the grace and love of God.  And we learned that the kingdom of God is at hand – that the kingdom of God is as close as our hands held out in front of our faces.  Finally, we were given a glimpse of the transfigured Christ – a promise that the cross would not – cannot ever win.     

Epiphany began with a recalling of our own baptisms, and our promises to seek and serve Christ in all people, to work for justice and peace for all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being.  Lent gives us an opportunity to reflect on how well we have or have not manifested the light of Christ in our own lives – to reflect on how well we have or have not lived into our baptismal promises. 

We come to Lent not as creatures despised by God, but as creatures created in God’s own image and likeness – as creatures who God loves deeply and with whom God desires a loving relationship as a parent desires her own children.  We come to Lent as a people called by God – as a people wooed by God – as a people already forgiven – as a people sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.

But we also come with our own brokenness, and as Dean Donatelli reminds us, “Lent offers the invitation to reflect on broken relationship: brokenness [within our own selves – with how we relate to our own selves, brokenness] between each other, between [us and] God, and between [us and] the [whole of] creation.”  We approach Lent as a people not in need of a casket, but as a people in need of healing – and not as a people with a God of retribution who takes great pleasure in punishment, but as a people beloved of God, and followers of Jesus, the Great Physician of our souls.

So as you come forward to receive the imposition of ashes this night, recalling that we are dust, and to dust we shall return; let us realize that to speak of our mortality is not an evil thing – it is not a curse – for when we die to this world we will live in Christ.  But let us consider as we come forward what it is we must die to in this life to be fully alive in Christ – in this life.  Ash Wednesday isn’t a time to sing Ring Around the Rosie, but it is a time to enter into deep reflection about our relationships with each other, with this world, and with God; and to seek ways to strengthen those relationships that are healthy and find healing for those that are broken.  

We wear the ashes of Lent because we are a people created in God’s image and given the promise of new life – the promise of healing and love in Christ Jesus. 

The ash is a symbol promising that while we may say “yes” to sorrow and sin in our lives – that while we may at time embrace and revel in our brokenness – God is the One who always says “yes” to reconciliation, “yes” to healing, “yes” to the promise and hope for new life for each of us.  For if there was no hope – if there were no promise of reconciliation and new life – there would be no point in wearing this sign – this sign of our mortality – this prayer for life.

In Christ Jesus we are a people who rise like the Phoenix from the ashes marking our brow.  We rise in the hope and promise of a caring, forgiving, and loving God.  In the love of God – in the life, death, and resurrection of the One we call Christ – we are much more than the ashes we wear this day.   Amen.