Ash Wednesday

There are times when I make time, usually on a Friday, to enter into this sanctuary and pray alone.

There is a calming effect when I pray silently or sometimes quietly verbalize some thought that I share with God and only God.

This room with its creaking floorboards and louder than necessary cars driving by can seem loud at times, full of distractions, yet it can also be a place of silence and one of refuge.

In those moments of staring at the cross, following the darkened lines of the darkened patina contrasting with the lighter blue left from years of candlelight pointing our attention to the altar, my prayers drift to God like so much candle smoke winding its way to the heavens.

This time is important to me; it can bring focus to a messy day.

And as I pray I pray for my own needs, the needs of my children, my family, and certainly this community.

This is prayer that becomes conversation, at times one sided, admittedly.

I will ask questions of God.

Those why questions or questions asking for reprieve or clarity or so on.

This is a private time and it is lovely and so when I hear Jesus warning us to

not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Well, I kinda feel good reading that bit of scripture!

And here I am confessing to pride when Jesus just said not to do that!

But I do like to know sometimes that I’m doing okay, that I am acting as Jesus is asking us to act.

And every Ash Wednesday, we read this bit of the gospel, and we are admonished.

Don’t be like the hypocrites!

And we all nod our heads and promise that we won’t be like the hypocrites.

We’re not hypocrites are we, we ask each other.

No, we are not hypocrites, we affirm!

And not 15 minutes later, we are placing ashes on our head.

It’s as if we can’t stop ourselves from wanting to be seen by others.

See?

On this day and on this night, I am pious!

And if that is how we take the imposition of ashes, to be a public display of God’s chosen people, then yes, perhaps we are acting as the hypocrites.

But I do not think we think of ashes in that way, not in our tradition, but more on that in a bit.

So, what of the hypocrites?

Why is Jesus seemingly warning us away from public prayer in places of worship and on street corners?

Isn’t that how we share the Word, share Christ’s message?

Isn’t the public proclamation of the gospel kind of important?

And what of all the prayers in our liturgy?

The Collect for Purity, the Collect of the Day, our Confession, our Eucharist?

What of those things?

Are we just a community founded on hypocrisy?

Well, in hopes of keeping this career going, I’m going to say no.

And I say no with confidence for I do not think Jesus is speaking of just prayer.

Instead, I think he is speaking of some prayer.

Let us remember that our gospel text this evening is a section of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.

And in that sermon, Jesus asks to be the light of the world a lamp upon a stand and not hidden by a bushel basket.

No, we are not to hide our actions and beliefs, rather we are to celebrate and share those actions and beliefs.

What Jesus is warning us away from is ensuring that our prayer is not performative, that we do not render our clothes and beat our chests calling to God without action, without belief.

And to do so, we need discipline and not performance.

We need to judge rightly our misdeeds and atone for them; ask God for forgiveness so that we might realize God’s love with a clear heart and clear mind.

These ashes, symbolic perhaps, still mean more than the flailing of a hypocrite wishing to be seen.

These ashes are a heel turn away from sin and immorality.

These ashes are us showing our commitment to God, our need to adjust, to turn away from sin, an expression of our desire to spend an eternity within God’s embrace.

That is, if we treat them as such.

There are two things going on here.

One is the physical act or receiving ashes and the other is almost physical shift of our being towards God and towards God’s love.

Both, I think should occur, only one needs to happen.

We can turn to God without ashes, but ashes without turning to God will be but a performative display; the hypocrite praying to be seen.

And now is the time to turn to God.

Each year we enter Lent and some of us vow to make changes to ourselves; a second chance at a New Year resolution.

And I kind of like this tradition of giving up things that aren’t necessarily good for ourselves or taking on things that will better us.

Maybe we want to give up potato chips fine, great.

Maybe we want to buy a non-perishable item for the Glastonbury Food Bank each day of Lent, even better!

And along with that, how do we refocus ourselves toward God?

How will we practice penitence in this penitential season?

How along with our obvious outer actions will we adjust and readjust our very selves?

How will we reorient ourselves towards God?

And how will we continue that shift well after these 40 days of Lent have past?

Friends, we eschew the hypocrite by not becoming the hypocrite.

These behaviors that remove us from God, our very sins that displease God, can now be reflected upon, changed, and made better.

As we pray throughout Lent, let us reflect on those things that can be made better, reflect on how we can prepare for Easter through penitence.

In these forty days, let us shift, let us move, let our actions have meanings and our gestures less so.

And tonight, in the darkness of a winter evening I ask that you remain that light of the world so that we may welcome the true light of Christ on the blessed Easter morning that is soon to arrive.