Ashes... to go?

Ashes are an ancient symbol of penitence or mourning.  The practice of beginning the 40-day period of preparation leading up to Easter with the imposition of palm ashes on one's head goes at least as far back as the 8th century, if not farther, and their use as outward markers of penitence or mourning stretches back into the time of the Old Testament. In some ways, it's kind of like having one's name written on the blackboard for misbehaving in school. That cross-shaped, black smudge that flakes off onto our glasses is kind of hard to miss. It's a sign or a mark that we don’t always act very well. By the same turn, they don’t mean that the teacher is going to call our parents or send us to the principal’s office. They’re there to remind us that messing up is part of what it means to be human, and that we can ask God for help when we do. 

For those who choose to receive ashes today, whether as part of a church service or from a clergyperson standing on a street corner, those ashes are an outward sign of an inward grace. At the least, they communicate to the other people around us that there is something more to our interior lives than they might have thought. What those ashes are not is some sort of temporary disfigurement designed to tell the world that we’ve checked off the, “I went to church” box just for today. They speak to something more: our status as a sinner worthy of redemption, our mortal nature, and God’s gracious gift of everlasting life.  As St. Paul words it, “We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see - we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Corinthians 6:10, NRSV). With that smudge, we are marked as people who are willing to at least consider the possibilities those things contain, for today and beyond. They are for all of us, no matter what our status within the community might be. What’s more, they are infinitely rich, and their reach into the core of who we are is far deeper than any sort of praise or rebuke from others can ever be. 

This universality and richness are, I think, what we discover when we risk going out onto the street corners in front of our lovely stone buildings and sharing what we have to offer. My colleagues who offer "Ashes to Go" often report back that they continue that particular experiment because it means a great deal to the people who approach them for ashes and prayers. Amid the busy-ness of everyday life, it is a gift to actually have the time and space to mark the beginning of Lent.  Whether they "get ashed" on train platforms, street corners, or anywhere else, they send the message that there is something more than just the ordinary hustle and bustle and noise of the world around them.  

Reconciliation begins with acknowledging the "something more." Even if it's just for a few minutes, stopping to bask in God's presence is enough to get started.  

-- Amy Spagna+