6 March 2019
Text: Matt 6:1-6, 16-21 (Joel 2:12-19, Jonah 3:1-10)
In the name of +
Jesus. Amen.
Ash
Wednesday is both one of the most popular, and one of the most misunderstood
days of the church calendar. Some people
argue against using ashes because Jesus says that when we fast, we should not
disfigure our faces that our fasting “may be seen by others.” But this is to interpret the ashes as some
kind of a boastful signal that we are fasting. That’s not what it means. Some people treat the ashes as an opportunity
to show other people that they went to church today, like the little stickers
you can get when you vote. But that’s
not what it means either.
A
lady preacher wanted to use Ash Wednesday to celebrate the rejection of
traditional marriage, and her idea was to mix glitter with the ashes, so that
it looks more festive. Uh, no. Some churches have a drive-through window so
that people can have the benefit of the ashes (whatever that is) without having
to sit through readings and a sermon. That
also misses the point.
It
is interesting that the meaning of ashes is largely forgotten when the first
word you hear as they are being applied is, “Remember.”
“Remember,
O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
The
ashes remind us of what will happen to our flesh when we die. Just as God made the man (the adam) out of the
dirt (the adamah), we, in our mortality, will return to the dust.
And
so, far from being another festive ritual in Mardi Gras, it is a somber
reminder. Far from being a celebration
of deviant sexuality, it is a confession of our selfish misuse of the Lord’s
gifts. Far from being something to brag
about, it is an acknowledgment of brokenness.
When I look out from this pulpit at your faces covered in ashes, I see marks of rejection. I see cans that cannot be sold because they are dented. I see meat past its expiration date. I see books with the covers torn off destined for the dumpster. That, dear friends, is the primary meaning of the ashes: we are damaged goods.
When I look out from this pulpit at your faces covered in ashes, I see marks of rejection. I see cans that cannot be sold because they are dented. I see meat past its expiration date. I see books with the covers torn off destined for the dumpster. That, dear friends, is the primary meaning of the ashes: we are damaged goods.
In
our Gospel reading from the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord tells us when we give
to the needy – not if, but when – when we give to the needy, “sound no trumpet
before you as the hypocrites do… that they may be praised by others.” When – not if, but when – when we
sacrificially make offerings, we are not to be praised by others. We are to keep it a secret. For the reward is in the good deed and in our
Father’s knowledge, not in having our egos stroked by other people. And we behave this way because we are damaged
goods.
And
when – not if, but when – when we pray, we are to do it in secret. We are not to pray so that the pastor knows
you’re doing it, or so that your parents will praise you, or so that your
relatives see it and think that you are holier than they are. Your motivation must never be about being
praised. Prayer is about praising God;
it is not about us being praised. And we
behave this way because we are damaged goods.
And
when – not if, but when – when we fast, once again, we are not to tell the
whole world about it. It is between us
and God. Fasting is a spiritual exercise
that is very important – especially for us as a people who are surrounded by
food, which we can enjoy around the clock whenever we have the whim to get a
bite to eat. For we forget how good God
is to us, and fasting is a reminder of that. But once again, fasting is not a way to say, “Hey
world, look at me! I’m better than you
are!” And we behave this way because we
are damaged goods.
We
are damaged because of sin. “Remember!” Remember what happened in the Garden of Eden.
Remember your own sins and transgressions. And remember that the consequences for our
sinful nature is our mortal nature, that is, death.
“Remember,
O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
We
need to be reminded, because we do everything that we can to forget. We even treat death as normal and natural –
when it is neither. We treat death as a
solution to other problems – such as the expense of healthcare for the elderly or
the chronically ill. We treat death as a
solution to the inconvenience of an unexpected pregnancy. We treat death as entertainment, as our movies
and songs and fashions have become ever darker and more fascinated with death. And how often we hear of the rich and famous
committing suicide, because their ostentatious lives are devoid of meaning?
Dear
friends, we are indeed mortal, but we
also have meaning in our lives. For we
have been redeemed. Our lives have been
bought back. We have a Savior. Our Lord Jesus went to the cross, so that you,
baptized into His name, have received the sign of the cross upon your forehead
as a token and seal of the Lord’s blood shed for you, blood that overcomes
death and the grave. For that mark of
death on your forehead that declares you to be damaged goods is in the shape of
a cross. You are indeed damaged goods,
but Christ has come to fix you. He went
to the cross to restore you. Christ has
baptized you in order to renew you in the forgiveness of sins.
Remember!
Remember!
Remember
the sin of Adam, the man of dust, and see the mark of the dust that reminds you
of your mortality. But remember the
faithfulness of Christ, the New Adam, the man of salvation, and see the mark of
the cross that reminds you of your redemption and your resurrection from death!
For
the Lord Jesus Christ has died to take away all of our laziness, and to empower
us to repent. His death atones for our
petty hypocrisy and silly self-importance and self-centeredness. His body and blood are given and shed, and
shared with you to eat and to drink as another powerful reminder: “Remember, O
man, that you are redeemed.”
And
so the feast of Carnival has yet again yielded to the fast of Lent. Let us make use of this gift, dear friends,
this opportunity to give to the needy, to pray, and to fast. Let us remember that we are damaged goods, but
that our Lord in His mercy has borne the cross that we now bear on our
foreheads. Let us remember our baptismal
water that washes away our sins just as water will wash away these ashes from
our faces. Let us remember what a
privilege it is to hear the Word of God read and preached, and to partake of
the Lord’s body and blood. Let us
perform acts of charity and love because they need done, and not for the sake
of being noticed.
Let
us remember the words of the Lord given to us by the prophet Joel: “Return to
Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning…. Return
to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and
abounding in steadfast love.”
Let
us remember the encouragement of the Apostle Peter: “Make every effort to supplement
your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control,
and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and
godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love.”
Let
us indeed remember to love, for that is what Christ does for us, his damaged
goods. He loves us, redeems us, and
restores us, turning the ashen condemnation into an anointing of salvation.
“Remember,
O man!”
Amen.
In the name of the Father
and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
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