Ash Wednesday

Stumbling

In the first reading, through the prophet Joel, God implores his people -implores us- to “rend your hearts, not your garments.” The rending of garments, tearing them as an expression of anger or sadness is an ancient custom. Still, it is just an “expression”, though it certainly sends a message. But it’s easy to rend your garments. Not so easy to rend your heart, to act upon –rather than merely express or display- the turmoil within, and the change that it demands.

Three times in today’s Gospel Jesus condemns the hypocrites. Three times should be sufficient warning for us to get the point. And it isn’t just about ostentatious public displays of faith or penitence. But more importantly, the reform within and the prophetic actions without should coincide, as if –St. Paul says- God is speaking through us. And if we are to be Christians in any meaningful sense, ambassadors for Christ as Paul has it, that is precisely what God does.

Today, Ash Wednesday, Christians all over the world are marked with the sign of the new covenant in Christ; with a cross made of ashes, the penance within symbolized by a cross worn on our very skins. It’s remarkable how many people will go out of their way to receive this sacramental. You sometimes see people who, I swear, regard the ashes as an adornment, a mere badge of belonging. Now, not to be too hard on them, I can understand the hunger for identity in a world that sometimes renders us anonymous. But our identity as Christians needs to be a lot deeper than a temporary dirt tattoo. If we would avoid hypocrisy that mark on our heads must be more than a sign of membership in a community of faith, and far more than a sign of group identity. We begin Lent marked with a sign of contradiction, both a blessing and a warning, to remind us of our own mortality and of the price that was paid for our salvation. Our acceptance of that sign is a pledge to honor that sacrifice with our own, with repentance, and to lead lives of love in proportion to the love of the God who believed we were worth the sacrifice. Whatever signs we use, and whatever penances we do during Lent, then, are useless if they do not lead us to God. But the Good News also is that it doesn’t matter how well we follow; whether we run or crawl doesn’t matter; it doesn’t matter if we stumble along the way. In fact, stumbling after Christ is about as good a description of the Christian life as I can think of. Some ways are better than others, but, as all the blind and crippled in the Gospel show us, however you reach Christ is good enough.