Ash Wednesday

 

 

Today is Ash Wednesday.  It is the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent.  The day gets its name from the historic Christian practice of retaining the palm branches that adorned the church sanctuary on the previous year’s Palm Sunday.  In making ready for Ash Wednesday the church burns the palms and then the priest/pastor applies the ashes in the shape of a cross to the foreheads of those who worship on that day.  Wearing ashes is a traditional sign of penitence.  

 

In the Bible persons frequently wore ashes as expressions of grief or penitence (2 Samuel 13, Job 42, Jeremiah 6, Daniel 9, Hebrews 9, Matthew 11 and Luke 10 among others). 

When Christian worshipers receive the imposition of ashes in worship, the presider usually says some form of Genesis 3:19, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."  The presider will often conclude with, “Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

Because the date of Ash Wednesday depends on the timing of Easter, this observance moves around the calendar a bit.  It can fall anywhere between February 4 and March 10.

Ash Wednesday marks the commencement of the season of Lent.  These are the forty days immediately preceding Easter (excluding Sundays, which are reflections of Easter Day itself and are therefore inappropriate occasions for denial). 

Some folks erroneously teach that Lent is an extended period of “getting ready for Easter.”  Lawrence Hull Stookey reminds us that

Lent, until its final week, is a time of disciplined consideration of our life and death as transformed by our covenant with God and is closely related to the administration and reaffirmation of baptism at Easter.¹

This season is a kettle that sits on its own bottom.  It is related to – but independent of – our observance of Easter.

The liturgical color for the day (and season) is purple.  This is a solemn hue that represents penitence in the lives of Christians.

The liturgy for the day includes confession and absolution in preparation for the imposition of ashes.  Psalm 51 is a traditional expression of confession and many churches use this as part of their ritual for the day.

^{1 Lzwrence Hull Stookey, Calendar: Christ's Time for the Church}

^{(Nashville: Abingdon, 1996).}

Giving up something for Lent

Lent is a season that -- for some -- includes fasting as a way of observing this time.   Jesus fasted for forty days following his baptism.  During this time, he was in the wilderness being tempted by the Devil.  This fast and the Lenten season are connected by this number of days and by this fasting practice.

I don’t know that many people literally fast for this entire period.  Even with the fact that Sundays don’t make up a part of this self-denying season, I don’t hear people reflecting on their season-long denial of food.

Some folks participate in a partial fast.  They will refrain from eating until three in the afternoon, or until sunset (they hate to see Daylight Saving Time come).  Others follow a long-standing church tradition of abstaining from “pleasant food.”  I suppose that is a bit of a subjective evaluation.  One person’s “pleasant” is another one’s “rejection.”

So, observing this time with an exercise of self-denial takes on many forms.  “Giving up something for Lent” leaves the realm of food behind for a lot of people.  They instead abandon practices or diversions for these days.

It is not up to me to judge another person’s spiritual discipline.  But I would ask anyone to evaluate their choices with this question: Is that which you are setting aside good enough to give up for Lent?   What I mean by that is does a person set aside something that is bad for them and then claim it as a spiritual discipline?  I have heard people talk of giving up excessive consumption of alcohol, smoking, driving over the speed limit, cursing, overeating and a host of other behaviors in the name of observing the season.

As difficult as it may be for some individuals to set aside addictive behavior, I question the labeling of these things as a sacrificial gift that one places before the Throne of Grace.  If I “give up” overindulging of food, do I set my practice down at the feet of Christ and say, “Lord, I have given up gluttony in my devotion to you?”  I mean, isn’t gluttony one of the Seven Deadly Sins?  Isn’t it a practice that I should have avoided from the get-go?  Do I give myself permission to be a glutton again once Lent is over and Easter commences?  That just doesn’t seem right.

So, what is appropriate if we observe this practice?  I have known people who have given up seemingly small things, but they required real effort on the part of the practitioner.  One of the positives that grows out of a decision to deny something is that some believers leave behind a practice and in its place, they substitute times of prayer, meditation or reflection.  When Lent passes, they may re-order their lives for the long haul.  Or, they may resume their former ways with a new appreciation of the part that the thing they have done without plays in their lives.

So, if we have set something aside (or start today, as there is no need to be legalistic – it’s not too late), we might want to make sure that it’s good enough.

Further thoughts on Lent

The liturgical season of Lent has a long history.  As you can imagine, some aspects of the seasonal observance change over time.  The church adds some things.  Other features fall away.  It can be a fluid time. 

One of the practices of days gone by was that the church took this time to instruct and examine people who had left the church or who had been dismissed from its fellowship.  It was a bit easier to do when the church was more monolithic.  Now, if someone becomes disaffected but does not desire to live outside the church altogether, they can join another congregation or denomination.  They can remain anonymous regarding their past church affiliation.  Beyond affirming that they have received baptism (and perhaps answering some questions regarding the mode of baptism) most churches receive membership transfers no questions asked.  If the receiving congregation bothers to contact the individual’s former church at all it is a formality.  It has to do with membership totals rather than spiritual nurture.  So, the idea of expulsion in the name of church discipline is effectively non-existent.  Likewise, a member who chooses to leave for even the most trivial of reasons does not have to explain or justify their uniting with another church.

In a different time, a dismissed church member petitioned the congregation for re-admission.  Church and individual examined the separation and a time of inquiry and instruction followed.  Then, on Easter Day, the approved member re-entered the community of faith.  It was a time of true reconciliation between a congregation and a returning person.

Now, I am not advocating kicking people out of the church’s fellowship.  Likewise, pressuring folks with too many questions provides a sure-fire guarantee to run them off.  But I see an ideal world where -- if someone presents themselves for church membership after being a part of another fellowship – the receiving church might ask, “Why?”

People relocate.  They need a church home.  They fall away and look for a fresh start.  I’m good with that.  But, “I didn’t agree with everything my former church did or believed or said it stood for” might require some more examination.  The “it’s easier to leave than work out our differences” practice brings a lot of malcontents into local churches for a lot of the wrong reasons.  Again, I look at an ideal where churches look to make disciples and not claim scalps.

I also look to an ideal where the search for genuine reconciliation is real. 

I can dream, can’t I?

A different way of getting ready for Easter

The emphases of a season like Lent naturally change over time.   Practices come and go.  Traditions evolve due to necessity or convenience.  Lent as we know it is in some ways very different from the way in which the church ordered its practice in times past.

One of elements for this season in the early church was that it took the days of Lent to give “final instructions” to those who were in the process of becoming full members of the church.  The church called these learners catechumens.  These inquirers underwent a three-year instructional period in preparation for becoming a part of the fellowship.  In Lent those who were nearing the end of their training would enter a time of intense concluding instruction.  Then during the triduum – the last hours of Lent, beginning the evening of Maundy Thursday and lasting until sunrise on Easter Sunday – the church would teach these people elements like The Lord’s Prayer and an affirmation of faith like The Apostles’ Creed.  They kept vigil all during this time.   (If the catechumen fell asleep at any point during these hours, they were welcome to begin another three-year instruction and undergo all the process again.)

On Easter morning the church baptized these folks and welcomed them to their first Holy Communion.  At this point the church counted them as full members of the fellowship. 

For individuals who were not full members of the church, they participated in the first part of a worship service.  They joined in some of the prayers and sang hymns.  But the church dismissed them (to a time of sharing preparatory information) before the church joined in scripture and Eucharist.  Imagine going through a three-year process to join the church when seekers had never been a part of the principal worship activity of the group.  And yet, the church flourished.

It is cause for some lamentation that in our day many churches welcome new members who present themselves on the spot.  There is no preparation, no instruction at all.  I have seen people who have hardly ever been inside a church building before in their lives come to the chancel at the conclusion of a worship service.  They declare that they “have been saved.”  At that point the enthusiastic clergy baptizes and confirms them on the spot.  I am sad to say that the vast majority of these instantly-received people fall away from the church within a year.

The wisdom of the ages had a procedure and it served the church well.  Three years may be a bit much in the modern day.  Offering a sixty-hour vigil to potential twenty-first century seekers might not be a strong selling point.  But a real sense of intentionality might help cement the bond between seeker and church.  It might also help eliminate the “anything goes” attitude that emerges in church folk from time to time.  Adding more time is not the answer.  Including more substance might make the difference.

The Forty Days of Lent

I observed earlier that the season of Lent was forty days in duration.  This stretch of time excludes Sundays.  I’ll say more about that later.  But I want to say a thing or two about the time that the church assigns to Lent.

In its very early days the church devoted only Holy Week to the anticipation of Easter.  Over time the period came to be two weeks, then a month, and finally the church settled on the current duration.

There are a lot of connections to the number forty in the Bible.  God cleansed the earth with a flood that lasted forty days.  Israel wandered in the wilderness forty years in the period of the Exodus.  Moses was on Sinai forty days receiving The Law from God.  David reigned as King for forty years, as did Solomon.  Elijah fasted in the wilderness over a span of forty days.   Jesus’ fast and temptation took place over forty days.  The resurrected Christ appeared to his disciples in a forty-day span prior to The Ascension.  Finally, the Crucified Christ was in his tomb for forty hours.  It should not surprise us, then, that forty days became the duration of Lent.

When the number forty appears in scripture, there is also a sense of fulfillment.  Forty hours or forty days or forty years is “enough” time for the activity at hand.  Forty is sufficient.  It has a connotation of having contained all the time that was necessary to accomplish a given end.

Finally, forty days is roughly one-tenth of a year.  It is a tithe and therefore an appropriate time dedicated as a gift to God.

Yesterday the church began this cycle again.  I pray that we all find our sense of completeness over these forty days.

Shrove Tuesday

Today is Shrove Tuesday in the Christian calendar.  Some people refer to the day as Mardi Gras (literally “Fat Tuesday”) – especially as they refer to the carnivals of New Orleans and elsewhere.  It marks the last day before the beginning of Lent.  Since the date for the beginning of Lent depends on the timing of Easter, Shrove Tuesday also moves around the calendar and it can take place anywhere between February 3 and March 9 inclusive.

Shrove is a form of the verb shrive, which means “to obtain absolution for sins by way of confession and penitence.”  The day has a long history in the church.  Going back into the Middle Ages penitents would go to their confessors on this day in preparation for Lent.

It is a day in which households consumed fat – and all pleasant or indulgent foods in the house – as families made ready for the self-denial of Lent.  The tradition of eating pancakes on this day goes back to at least the seventeenth century.

It is a global holiday with a multitude of regional celebrations.  Christians observe the day in one form or another in almost all areas of the world.  Most area festivities carry a sense of a great party or fete prior to entering into the spirit of Lent.