Ash Wednesday
“Even now, says the LORD, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the LORD, your God. For gracious and merciful is he. . .” Thus begins our first reading from the prophet Joel. In our Gospel, Jesus calls us to pray, fast, and give alms as oblations of charity, as sacrifices of praise. The Church offers us this graced season of Lent as an opportunity to repent, to return to the Lord, to experience conversion. Let us consider today how we will enter into God’s invitation to become more like Christ.
I don’t know about you, but typically Lent’s approach triggers some anxiety within me. I desire to experience a “good Lent,” but let’s be honest, self-denial is difficult. Fasting and abstinence are not easy when we choose to exercise those disciplines with significant sacrifice. In some ways, Lent can feel depressing with its focus on contrition, penance, and most of all the suffering of Christ. I can tend to want Easter without sacrifice, Resurrection without death.
Recently I read a priest express Lent as “a season of grace . . . a time of concentrated grace on God’s part and effort on ours to turn from sin.” A season of grace, a time of concentrated grace from God. I had never quite thought of Lent in that way. He went on to say, “God desires our happiness, true happiness, which comes to us through our response to God’s call to conversion.” Yes! God desires that we live a life of beatitude – happiness – a life deeply rooted and established in God. Lenten disciplines become a means to true happiness!
As I was praying about writing this reflection, I perceived the Lord give me a vision. I was in a circular room with stone walls and floor. The room was empty – no furnishings or appointments, and I was alone in it. There was a single door, large and constructed of ornate wood with metal hinges and handle. The door opened, and beyond it lay a very long road that stretched far away toward a low mountain range. The sun was rising over the top ridge and graced the morning sky with brilliant rays. I perceived the Lord say to me that the road was the Lenten journey, the graced journey of conversion. The road is long and difficult, yes, but we journey toward the dawn of new life. I sensed the Lord saying to me that I could remain in the round stone room, circling aimlessly while performing the Lenten disciplines, waiting for the release of Easter. But wouldn’t that be rather pointless? Why choose imprisonment when God offers freedom?
Jesus offers us this path to freedom, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). We follow Christ every step of the way, all the way to Jerusalem, through his suffering, through the Cross, and into the tomb. There is no rising without dying. Lent reminds us of that. But let us not simply endure the suffering and the dying in that self-imposed circular Lenten cell. Put another way, this Lenten journey is not some kind of contrived marathon at the end of which we receive a participation medal.
Let us walk with Christ on the road toward Resurrection in this season of concentrated grace. Today, on Ash Wednesday, would you walk with me through that ornate wooden door and out onto the road which marks our (happy) journey of conversion? Let us take up the cross of self-denial in ways that will truly help us to grow in Christlikeness. In the distance we see the Easter dawn. Christ’s light calls us forward and gives hope and purpose to each difficult step.
St Paul cried out, “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:19b-20a). You and I make this same battle cry today. As we walk the journey of conversion, this reality becomes more and more actualized in us. As we deny ourselves, turn away from sin, let go of disordered attachments, pray, fast, and act charitably, we are crucified with Christ. Instead of mournful drudgery and arduous effort, suddenly these disciplines are transformed! As we walk the Lenten path, may we recognize moments of conversion along the way, stopping to exclaim, “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me!” That is conversion! That would be a happy Lent, that would be an entering into a “time of concentrated grace.” Thanks be to God that we do not effort on our own; it is always and only by God’s grace that we do or accomplish anything (including walking our Lenten journey).
I’ll see you in the Eucharist,
Elizabeth Wells