The Gift of Presence, But Not Answers

“I am with you always, to the end of the age.” --Matthew 28:20 NRSV

 In this past Sunday’s sermon, I preached on Mark 8 and explained why Jesus had to suffer and die. I believe God became incarnate as Jesus Christ to once and for all demonstrate to us that God is with us even in the most terrible of moments. One of the main reasons I am a Christian is because I know God does not stay up in heaven removed from the pain of us mortals but has become one of us and experienced the worst this world has to offer. Furthermore, as I go through struggle and suffering in this life, God continues not to stay removed from me but remains with me in the midst of my pain.

 

When we experience suffering, we look for answers to why it is happening, and almost any answer will do. This is why people who should know better may latch onto the idea they are being punished by God, because even a bad answer is better than no answer. Humans are meaning-making beings, and making meaning out of chaos helps us cope with it. The worst kind of suffering is the kind that seems to lack meaning. I do believe we often can find meaning in our experiences of suffering (usually afterward), but I doubt we ever find a satisfactory answer for why God allows it to occur. When we come up empty in our attempts to find meaning in suffering and our theological answers turn out to make little sense, all we have to rely upon is that God is present with us no matter what. Lutheran minister and writer Nadia Bolz-Weber points out: “We want to go to God for answers, but sometimes what we get is God's presence.”  

 

When I pray with people facing surgery or a medical procedure of some kind, I always pray for its success. I pray for the doctors, nurses, technicians, tests, medicines, etc. to all work as well as possible. I also pray for healing of the supernatural kind that we may not comprehend. I pray for a quick recovery and I pray for caregivers and family members. Then I pray for what may be the most important part of the prayer. I pray for God to enable the person and their loved ones to have a definite sense of God’s presence in the midst of it all. I pray for them to be able to trust that God is with them in these anxious moments, just as God will be with them every day in the future, just as God has been with them every day of their lives in the past.

 

In Christ, we see God is not absent from human suffering but is present with us in it. We may wish for answers, but I’ve learned sometimes those answers do not come. I think even more than answers people long for God’s presence. Sometimes they may have difficulty sensing God is near--even Jesus on the cross cried, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Yet, God was present in and with Jesus, just as God is present in and with us.

 

I routinely hear from people I minister to that they are not afraid to die, rather they are afraid to suffer before they die and they are afraid their loved ones will suffer after they die. (My mother said similar words to me as she faced her own death.) God does not promise we will be free from suffering, nor does God explain why we experience it. God does promise that God is present when suffering occurs, and God never leaves us alone. In Christ, we see that God refuses to stay away from us but is present with us no matter what.

 

Whether it is our suffering, the suffering of a loved one or the suffering of our world, we do not have emotionally satisfying answers as to why God allows it to happen. What we have instead is a God who has already experienced what we go through and continues to remain with us whatever we face in our lives. We may want God to take it away or to offer an explanation, but instead God gives us God’s self, just as God came to us in Jesus Christ. Hymn writer Brian Wren, describes this mystery in one of his hymns:

When pain and terror strike by chance, with causes unexplained,
when God seems absent or asleep, and evil unrestrained,
we crave an all-controlling force ready to rule and warn,
but find, far-shadowed by a cross, a child in weakness born.  

 

I don’t have a satisfying answer for why suffering happens, but I do trust that God is always with us when we go through it.

 

Grace and Peace,
Chase

The Radical Nature of the Lord’s Prayer: Thy Kingdom Come?

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
--Matthew 6:10 KJV

Each Sunday we pray in unison The Lord’s Prayer, often called The Our Father. In our modern individualistic reading of the prayer, we often understand it as an expression of personal piety. Yet, the prayer was clearly intended for a community (“our,” “us,” “we”). In our context we often miss the radical nature of the prayer because we rarely stop to consider what alternatives to the prayer’s statements might look like. For example, we pray for our Father’s kingdom to come on earth, so what other “kingdoms” exist that wish to claim our allegiance?

A simple and prevalent answer to the question of what other kingdoms exist beside God’s kingdom is the “kingdom” of evil or Satan. History is filled with Christians describing groups or nations as “kingdoms of Satan” with disastrous results, so we should be cautious with such a label. Any dualism that breaks down the world into a simple good vs. evil ignores the complexities of human life.

On the other hand, we may spiritualize the idea of a “kingdom” opposed to God, so that it is a matter of personal religiosity while ignoring larger societal sins like racism, sexism, homophobia, greed and violence. Any responsible discussion of what alternative “kingdoms” exist to God’s own, needs to include not only personal morality but systemic sins as well. Yet, caution is always advisable lest our own political biases, cultural identity and personal lists of which sins are the worst make use of “the kingdom of God” for our own selfish ends.

In our Zoom Sunday School class this past Sunday, we watched a video with a scholar of the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) named Walter Brueggemann. He is a scholar I regularly quote in my preaching and teaching because he makes the stories of the Bible wondrously relevant for today’s world. In the video, Brueggemann used the term “empire” often in his discussion of the message of scripture for its own day and for our own. We had to spend some time unpacking what “empire” means and why the biblical writers are often opposed to it.

When I was in a New Testament Ph.D. program in the late 1990’s (before I accepted a call to pastoral ministry), Biblical Studies was beginning to talk about “empire” a lot. A flurry of books and articles began addressing the Bible and empire which has not stopped over twenty years later. Biblical scholars studying the concept of “empire” was part of a broader trend in academics.

In the second half of the 20^th century, the humanities, which had been dominated by white European males for centuries, began to change. Scholars from African, Asian and Central/South American countries historically dominated by European empires began to have a voice. This type of scholarship is broadly called “Postcolonial Studies.” An old saying goes “history is written by the victors,” but Postcolonial Studies is broadly about telling history, literature, sociology, etc. from the perspective of the people who were not the “victors” but rather under the control of empires. An Indian person under British colonial rule would have a different perspective than one of the British rulers, so also would an African person living under the rule of Belgium, Italy, France, etc. Bible scholars were influenced by this type of work and began to investigate what it was like living as conquered people in Bible times.

Readers of the Bible have always known empires played a part in the great stories of the Bible. The Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt had to do with the Egyptian Empire. Stories like the ones found in Daniel and Esther had to do with the Babylonian and Persian empires. The apocalyptic writings in Daniel and Revelation are responses to the Greek and Roman empires. The ministries of Jesus and Paul responded to the rule of Rome as well.

Because of its geographic location at the intersection of Europe, Asia and Africa, Israel was conquered by a succession of great empires, such as Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece and Rome. Each empire attempted to colonize or control its conquered territory and did so not only by its army but also by its culture and religion. So much of the Bible has to do with combatting idolatry, because Israel and the early church were constantly under threat of losing their corporate identity under the weight of a greater political, cultural and religious force. Whether it was Egypt’s Pharaoh, Babylon’s king or Rome’s emperor, the rulers of empire usually claimed the title of “god” and demanded not only political but religious devotion. Virtually all aspects of culture were impacted. Just as European powers imposed Christianity upon conquered nations with devastating results, so also did the ancient empires impose their religions upon Israel and the early church.

Until rather recently, Bible scholars focused upon the influence of these ancient empires in terms of politics alone, almost as if the words of the Bible were often separated from the imposed cultural assimilation constantly happening to Israel and the early church. Since most Bible scholars were themselves the product of modern empires, they gave little thought to the Bible as a means of resistance to the control of empires.

Now, in many ways, for the first time in human history, people formerly controlled by empires have a voice. This has also been the case when it comes to reading the Bible. Now thanks to people who are a part of communities historically controlled by empires, those of us who descend from people who ran those empires are beginning to see the Bible as written by people resisting empires rather than as it has been understood for so long as a tool of empires.

A good example of this change in perspective regarding the Bible is found in the experience of African American Christians. In the days of slavery, slave owners and their supporters used the Bible to justify enslaving people from Africa and their descendants. At the same time, these enslaved people found in the Bible in the stories of the Exodus, the words of the prophets and the life, death and resurrection of Jesus a religion that supported resistance to their oppression. This same dynamic continued in the Jim Crow era, the Civil Rights era and down to today in our current struggles over white nationalism. The experience of those on the receiving end of oppression produces a reading of scripture closer to the writers of the Bible than does the experience of the oppressors.

What scholars like Brueggemann and others are asking of the church is what forces or “kingdoms” exist today in opposition to God’s kingdom? As I mentioned above, we want to be careful in who we label as opponents of God, because all of us “sin” or do things that are opposed to God’s love. Yet, while we must be cautions, we also should consider the radical nature of the prayer we pray every Sunday.

On January 6, we saw an extreme example of people identifying God’s kingdom with their political ideology during the riot at the Capitol Building. People committing violence and vandalism declared they did so as a part of their Christian faith, in essence claiming the language of God’s kingdom to justify behavior opposed to what Jesus taught. In more subtle ways, our own nation may seek to usurp our allegiance we owe to God. The treatment of African Americans during slavery, Jim Crow and down to today, as well as the treatment of Native Americans stands in contrast to the words of the law, prophets and Jesus when it comes to caring for oppressed and powerless people. Similarly, our cultural and economic dominance around the world too often reduces people and the very planet itself to commodities that can be bought and sold instead of seeing all people as children of God and the earth as belonging to its Creator.

When we pray “Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven” during worship, we step into a space where we as disciples of Jesus must ask what is God’s kingdom (or empire) and what is in opposition to God’s reign? The implications of such a question touch all dimensions of our individual and corporate lives.

If we really wish to go deeper into the words we pray each week, we can ask if the word “kingdom” itself is the best term to describe God’s claim over us and our world? Is God only male? Does the God we know in Christ exercise power like a king or emperor or like a servant oppressed by human kings and emperors? There is much more to this prayer we recite by memory each week than perhaps we often realize.

Grace and Peace,
Chase

Lessons From a Doctor Visit

“I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
--Matthew 28:20 NRSV

In September 2019, both of my parents were diagnosed with cancer the very same week. They had two very different cancers. My mother had an inoperable brain tumor which killed her two months later, while my father had a cancer with a high survivability rate located on a kidney. A surgery to remove the kidney followed by chemotherapy resulted in him living cancer-free now two years later. There have been many spiritual lessons for me since I received the news that both my parents had cancer. Perhaps the most significant one has come from my father’s oncologist (I’ll call her Dr. B) who has demonstrated a radical kind of presence that I call holy.

I can’t think of a time I felt more vulnerable than when I accompanied my father to meet Dr. B for the first time. My mother had recently died from her cancer when we met to discuss my father’s treatment. I felt all the stuff one feels when one grieves, including anger. The doctors who had treated my mother did their best for her, but they often spoke to her problem and not to her. It had been an exhausting two months of trying to get straight answers about the trade-offs between my mother having a short time of relative peace vs. efforts to give her even a little more time that left her feeling worse than death. I remember bracing myself for another struggle over life or death questions regarding my father when we met Dr. B.

From the moment Dr. B entered the room, her eyes were focused on my father’s eyes. She sat near him leaning forward to take in everything he said both verbally and non-verbally. She listened for information about his health and quality of life with an acute ear geared toward hearing him as a human being in all his complexity. I sat across the room and asked all my fearful and protective questions about the consequences of different approaches to treating his cancer, and she listened to each one answering them directly while validating my fear over losing a second parent. Although I remained guarded, I began to trust her judgment. Over two years later, I now look forward to seeing her, because of the time, care and attention she offers not only to my father’s treatment but also to him as a person. I have rarely been in the presence of someone so present and attentive to another human being. My gratitude to her simply knows no bounds for the attention she gives my father every time we go in for another scan to see if his cancer has returned.

Every time my father and I leave one of his appointments with Dr. B, we always comment on her gift of presence. We have yet to experience her when she seems distracted or focused on anything other than him and his care. As someone in a caring profession, I am envious of her abilities to be present with people she cares for. I find myself too easily distracted when I am trying to be present with people sharing their spiritual struggles with me. Apart from my professional envy however, I am a son who is deeply grateful for the attention she gives my father, just one of who knows how many patients she sees.

I think about Dr. B when I pray to be more present to other people, less lost in my own head, less anxious and less distracted. In moments, when I do feel more present than not with others, I discover that I encounter hurting people wherever I go. Whether it’s talking with a church member or exchanging a few words with a cashier or barista, people everywhere are afraid, vulnerable and desperate for human connection (even more so during COVID-19).

I am grateful for the cancer treatment my father has received from Dr. B, but I am perhaps even more grateful for the gift of presence she has given to him. Feeling he is cared for and seen in all his humanity has been an essential part of his healing. Her presence has also allowed space for me to heal in my grief for my mother. Buddhist monk and spiritual teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh says, “The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence.” This is a lesson I’ve seen in action when I have been with Dr. B.

As a Christian how I have interpreted Dr. B’s gift of presence to my father (and to me) is to see the incarnation of God in Christ as present in her care. The Christ embodied in her has ministered to the Christ embodied in my father (and in me). I can’t help but wonder the difference made any time we can be really present with others. Kilian Noe who works in addiction and recovery therapy describes the spiritual interactions at work in this kind of presence:

“Sometimes we are astonished when we learn that although we did not actually ‘do’ anything for a certain individual, our simply being present or showing up allowed something to shift in his or her inner landscape that made space for deeper healing. Sometimes we discover that in simply being present to another’s pain we experience the Divine in them that awakens the Divine in ourselves.”

No, a few words exchanged with a server, store clerk, a family member or a friend are not the same as a meeting between patient and oncologist, but they may nonetheless be moments with life and death consequences. Each one of us hurts and each one of us can be present for another’s pain. Oftentimes the gift of presence we offer to others maybe exactly what is needed for God to bring healing.

Grace and Peace,
Chase

The Sequel (or Prequel) is Never as Good as the Original

 For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. --Jeremiah 29:11 NRSV

In 1999, I was ecstatic! The Star Wars prequels were coming out. I wanted to camp out for movie tickets but couldn’t find anyone to come along with me. I so badly wanted to recapture the magic of the original Star Wars trilogy which had captivated my childhood. Unfortunately, I and millions of other fans were disappointed by these movies which chronologically took place before those in the original trilogy. The fun of the originals had been replaced by byzantine plots and awful dialogue. Even people who enjoyed a return trip to “A galaxy far far away” admitted this trip wasn’t as fun the second time around. 

Some have argued my disappointment had to do with nostalgia--things just aren’t as wondrous in adulthood as they were in childhood. Maybe so, but I also think it is remarkably rare to enjoy something great a second time around. I have struggled to think of movie sequels that were better than the original films. Godfather 2, Road Warrior (Mad Max 2) and Lethal Weapon 2 are the only ones on my list. I’m not sure how one considers movies intended from the beginning to be part of a franchise, such as Mission Impossible, Harry Potter or the Marvel/DC films. Mileage varies on those kinds of films. When you consider movies that were originally made to be stand-alone films but which later had sequels, the sequels, however good they may be, never match the original. Think of Jaws, Blade Runner, Toy Story, The Matrix, etc. 

What is true for Hollywood seems true for life. We have meaningful experiences but when we try to recreate them, we discover it's near impossible to duplicate the magic. I have found that I may have equally special experiences, say going back to a past vacation spot, but I’m really creating a new memory, just at a place I have been to before. No matter how much we work to prevent it, the world keeps changing and so do we. There really is no way to turn back time and experience the same thing twice, but that doesn’t stop us from trying. 

Our memory is meant to be a gift, but like so many things we can turn it into a curse. We can love things so much from our pasts that we miss out on the wonder in our presents. 

I guess I could compile my list of favorite films and never watch a new one, but where’s the fun in that? Think of all the amazing new films I would miss. In the same way, we can return again and again to our favorite memories to the point that they become more wonderful than they ever were in reality. What makes our most meaningful experiences meaningful is precisely that we cannot go back and experience them anew. The moments that matter the most were each a magical and unique event, and the same is true of the most meaningful moments happening in the here and now.

Our past memories are only useful if they serve us in the present. God never intended them to hold us prisoner to a past that can never come again. God is always pulling us forward with the promise that our favorite moments of the past are examples of what is still possible in our presents and futures.

I’ve seen all the Star Wars prequels and sequels, and as much as I have liked some of them, none of them compare to the original in my mind. That being said, I have watched a lot of movies in the decades since that weren’t Star Wars films and I have seen plenty that I loved and return to with joy. I look forward to more favorite movies yet to be discovered. It would be a shame if I refused to ever watch a new movie.

Grace and Peace,
Chase

Learning From President Selina Meyer

Do not conform yourselves to the standards of this world, but let God transform you inwardly by a complete change of your mind. Then you will be able to know the will of God—what is good and is pleasing to him and is perfect. --Romans 12:3 GNT

We should learn a lesson from President Selina Meyer. Who is President Meyer, you ask? No, you didn’t miss a presidential election, and no, this isn’t the latest QAnon conspiracy about who the “deep state.” President Selina Meyer is a fictional US President played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus on the HBO TV show Veep. This cynical and hapless politician reveals a lot about what an unexamined life looks like.

Louis-Dreyfus won six Emmys and numerous other awards for her portrayal of Selina Meyer, a politician hell-bent on becoming President. Her incompetence and lack of substance only allowed her rise to the level of Vice President. After serving almost two terms as VP, the President resigns resulting in her holding history’s shortest term as US President (only 8 months!). Fair warning--every episode is filled with vulgarity, but if you can stomach its lewdness, the series offers comedy gold. The humor always centers on the utter selfishness of Meyer and her aides.

Veep has become my latest TV show binge to help me through the pandemic. As it goes along, sometimes the cynicism gets pretty deep, but by the later seasons I felt sympathy for these lost and empty characters, especially President Selina Meyer. Over time, viewers learn how Meyer and her aides each were set on their pursuits of fame and power by demanding and demented parents. Like pinballs launched into a pinball machine they bounce from one event to another without ever asking why or altering their own trajectories.

A poignant moment occurs in the final season when Meyer attempts to run again for President. A new speechwriter pesters her to put into her own words why she wants to be President. After searching in vain for a noble reason, Meyer finally sputters, “Because it’s my turn!” She has no greater purpose or desire to improve the world, only an unattainable idea of success she is compelled to pursue.

In less absurdist terms, the plight of President Selina Meyer resembles a lot of people I know. If I’m being honest, I resemble it too. I identify with this fictional politician’s pursuit of an ambiguous success that lacks self-reflection. We humans are often driven by expectations placed upon us by parents and other family members, unfair comparisons with acquaintances and the validation of others. No wonder our lives end up feeling empty and our accomplishments fail to fill the holes inside of us. When asked why we spend our lives in pursuit of a particular goal, our answers ring hollow, because we lack self-understanding. Our strivings to be most popular, perfect parents, business  experts and financial whizzes do not feed our souls even if we reach “success.”

The Apostle Paul wrote on numerous occasions about how Christians must allow their minds to be transformed and continually renewed by Christ. For someone to be “in Christ,” they must set aside the priorities, actions and thoughts which do not lead to life. This happens not by our effort but by our willingness to let Christ change who we are. When we are asked why we are pursuing a particular life course, our answer becomes ”Because Christ leads me this way.” Our lives move from being a mindless pursuit of a selfish goal to a thoughtful following of Christ so we can serve others in love.

Deep down we know our lives desire purpose and meaning provided only by union with our Creator. This deep knowledge is why we laugh at a hapless character like President Selina Meyer. We know her path is often our own.

Grace and Peace,
Chase

What's Your Favorite Narcotic?

Then justice will dwell in the wilderness,     and righteousness abide in the fruitful field. The effect of righteousness will be peace,     and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever. --Isaiah 32:16-17 NRSV

I have wondered at the preponderance of TV shows about dropping people in the middle of a wilderness. Why are they so popular--Man vs. Wild, Survivorman, Survivorwoman, Naked and Afraid, and more? I guess they are popular for a lot of the same reasons adventure books and movies always have been--they are a vicarious look at someone forced to survive in extreme conditions. We get to ask ourselves what we would do in the same situation? (In case you are wondering, my answer is “I would die.”) Also, I believe their appeal is about being fully present in the moment. There is no time for regrets, shame or anxiety about an unknown future; all one’s energy is devoted to surviving in this moment. One is awake to the fragility and the wonder of life.

Most of us don’t literally go on reality TV shows into an extreme wilderness, but we can find ourselves at the end of our ropes mentally, emotionally and spiritually. We can reach points when we wonder if we will survive to make it through to the other side. These are wilderness moments. Most of us--myself included--spend a lot of time, energy and money to not think about how close we are to experiencing such moments. We find lots of ways not to consider what we are really made of, what really matters and who and what can we really depend upon? 

Walter Brueggemann, a scholar of the Hebrew Bible (what Christians call the Old Testament), writes that the purpose of a prophet is to wake up a society. He says there are forces that “narcotize” people so they will ignore the abuse of power, the ways people in power attempt to play God with people less powerful and the oppression of the many for the enrichment of the few. I had never heard the word “narcotize” before I read Brueggemann’s use of it. I discovered it’s a great way to describe our human dilemma when I read the definition: “stupefy with or as with a drug.” In the way a narcotic can stupefy someone or make them insensible, so also can social, political and theological levers pushed by people who wish to profit from them do the same to our mindsets, perspectives and awarenesses.

Lent is a season that is supposed to wake us up, to shake us so that the things we depend on to just get by lose their hold upon us. The idea of giving up something for Lent has its origin in this kind of spiritual discipline. Unfortunately, Lent has become just another motivation tool for only dieting or self-improvement rather than a way to become more spiritually connected to the Divine. Lent begins with reflection on Jesus in the wilderness--a time where Jesus is without the normal comforts of life. In wilderness moments--moments of pain, struggle and uncertainty--we find ourselves without the usual stuff we depend on to get by. In other words, what we normally use to “narcotize” ourselves no longer works--stimulation of media, sex, alcohol, drugs, a gallon of coffee each day, sleeping pills at night, codependent relationships, mindgames and more. What's your favorite narcotic? Mine is either doom scrolling on my smartphone or worrying about the future; I can't decide which one I do more.

In his book Eyes Remade for Wonder, Rabbi Lawrence Kushner writes,

The wilderness is not just a desert through which we wandered for forty years. It is a way of being. A place that demands being open to the flow of life around you. A place that demands being honest with yourself without regard to the cost in personal anxiety. A place that demands being present with all of yourself. In the wilderness your possessions cannot surround you. Your preconceptions cannot protect you. Your logic cannot promise you the future. Your guilt can no longer place you safely in the past. You are left alone each day with an immediacy that astonishes, chastens and exults. You see the world as if for the first time. 

 

Part of the reason our culture is filled with resources to help us “be mindful” and “present” is because we recognize how unfulfilling it is to remain narcotized--in a stupor--asleep to the danger and wonder of our world. Being out in nature is a great place to wake up to living, but that is not the only place such moments are possible. A wilderness moment can happen anywhere and at any time if we are courageous enough to stop, breathe and allow God to speak to us in our stillness. 

 

Rev. Ann Sutherland Howard says in a sermon preached on the radio show and podcast Day1 That such wilderness moments are available to us all the time. She says wild spaces exist in each of us awaiting our discovery.

 

Wild space is that part in each one of us that does not fit our consumer culture's definition of the good life.... It's the wild space in each of us that allows us to question the patterns of our lives so that we might begin to break free of the conventions, addictions, protections and consumptions leave us feeling filled to the brim but empty deep inside, that keep us from recognizing our deepest need and the deep hunger all around us.  

 

I work hard not to be alone with my thoughts, much less to still my thoughts so God can speak to my deepest self. I have all kinds of ways to narcotize myself, so I don’t have to think about the most important things about life--things to which I am usually not devoting myself. Maybe it will take me travelling out into an actual wilderness to do better, but I believe that step isn’t truly necessary. I just have to wake up to the wonder of the present moment which God is always offering me but I am so reluctant to accept. 

 

On this Lenten journey, I hope you will accept God’s invitation to pursue the wilderness inside of you.

 

Grace and Peace,
Chase

What Do The Ashes Mean on Ash Wednesday?

When the news reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his throne, removed his robe, covered himself with sackcloth, and sat in ashes.
--Jonah 3:6 NRSV

I think I’m too suburban to understand Ash Wednesday.

I grew up in the suburbs, while my parents grew up on farms. Their idea of moving up in the world meant being among the first in their families to get a college degree, to take white collar jobs and to live in a place where someone else grew and produced the food they ate each day. I never had my own livestock, grew my own crops or picked my own fruit (except for annual trips to an apple orchard). My food came from weekly trips to the supermarket, and the food there (if it really was food and not made in a factory) came from some mysterious place of which I had no firsthand knowledge. So, the seasons of planting, growing, harvesting and preparing to do it all over again are lost on me.

If I did have experience with agriculture, Ash Wednesday might make sense to me. Ashes would not just be something leftover in the charcoal grill or the fireplace, but rather the result of burning away the chaff left over from harvest time to provide nutrients to the soil for future growth. The biblical idea of repenting in dust and ashes is not an end in itself but a means of burning away what is no longer life-giving and preparing our souls for future growth.

Minister and author James Wind writes:

Lent begins with cold dark ashes and ends in Easter with the spark of bright new fire. For people with no awareness of the ancient practice of burning the fields so that new crops have room to grow, the season has an unnatural feel to it, quite the opposite of its original meaning. For us, ashes seldom carry any other significance than death and tragedy. Small wonder that most in our society turn the other way when clergy get ready to mark foreheads with an ashen cross and say, ‘Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.’

For people like me, a generation removed from the farm, the words “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” have a finality to them instead of a promise of new life. The reminder of mortality seems once and for all rather than an annual event; linear rather than cyclical. I fear death as a negation of life instead of seeing death as a necessary part of living. So, I cling to stuff, behaviors, patterns of thought and lingering resentments which are like chaff, leftover stalks and husks, doing no good laying on top of the soil, preventing new growth. They need to be burned away, so the ash can filter into the soil, so the dust can regain nutrients for new healthier things to grow.

The ashes of Ash Wednesday are not a condemnation or a mark of tragedy but an invitation to new life. When our spiritual ancestors in the Bible mourned and repented in ashes and dust, there was no expectation they would remain in that spot forever. Instead that time of ash and dust was a necessary precondition to reconciliation with God, with their community and with themselves. Just as they burned away the chaff of last year’s crops to grow new ones, so also times of repentance led to new life.

In the comedy we know as the Book of Jonah, the reluctant prophet gives the bad news of divine judgment to the city of Nineveh. Upon hearing the news, the whole city repents and even the king joins in with dust and ashes. Seeing their actions, God forgives them and withholds judgment. Jonah is disgusted at God’s mercy, because he was ready for the fire and brimstone. Jonah missed God’s invitation to new life. In the end, God uses the brief life and sudden death of a plant to teach Jonah the lesson that God wishes new life for all people.

Perhaps, I’m like Jonah (maybe you are too?) seeing ashes as a sign of God’s disfavor rather than God’s invitation to new life. The ashes of Ash Wednesday aren’t an ending brought about by our mistakes but a beginning brought about by God’s grace. Death is a friend we welcome, because it marks the end of things we no longer need, things which hold us back from really living. This truth reoccurs all through our lives until we finally let go of all we no longer need for our eternal new life to be complete.

Grace and Peace,
Chase