Ash Wednesday

The observance of Ash Wednesday seems to fly in the face of what the gospel of Matthew reports that Jesus taught, i.e., not to make an obvious show of one’s piety. Ironically, that text, Matthew 6:1-6, is part of the day’s gospel reading. Or, is it not really ironic?

Perhaps what seems obvious irony is in fact not so upon closer examination and reflection. We now live in a largely post-Christian society. Wearing a small ashen cross smudged on one’s forehead may not flaunt piety as much as raise questions about who and why. If attendees at my parish’s Shrove Tuesday pancake supper are at all indicative, they themselves did not understand the symbolism of either Shrove Tuesday or Ash Wednesday. Answering those questions affords an informal, unthreatening opportunity to speak about ideas central to Christianity.

Shrove Tuesday takes its name from the past tense of the verb “shrive,” which means to “hear the confession of, assign penance to, and absolve” (Concise Oxford English Dictionary). On Shrove Tuesday, medieval Christians would cleanse their houses of all foodstuffs forbidden during Lent and consume those items during a feast on the day before Ash Wednesday, which marks the first day of Lent. In some Roman Catholic nations this feast became the parties of Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday); in quieter Protestant circles, this feast became a pancake supper. Now that Christianity less explicitly defines the shape and flow or life, both Mardi Gras and pancake suppers have largely lost their connections to the beliefs that birthed them.

Behind the customs of Shrove Tuesday hides an important question: What in our lives will impede our Lenten journeys of spiritual development toward God?

Ash Wednesday symbolism incorporates and updates the pre-Christian practice of pouring ashes over one’s head to signify mourning or sorrow. Ashes visibly remind the wearer every time she or he sees a self-reflection that we really are dust, a concept with several layers of meaning. We are dust – the same substance as the earth and should not think ourselves any better than the earth. Gods calls us to lives of stewardship, not to lives of exploitation. We are dust – transient, perishable, and need to cherish each of our allotted days accordingly. We are dust – we have failed to be the person God created us to be, doing and not doing things we know pleasing to God. Others seeing ashes on us might helpfully consider those same questions with respect to themselves.

Behind the symbolism of Ash Wednesday hides an important question: What in our lives, by its presence or absence, displeases God?