By now the ashes have blown away.
A heavy gust of wind, the morning shower, an overnight transfer onto our pillows.
It’s Thursday and the ashes are gone, but the Holy Season of Lent is still just beginning. And no matter how short-lived those ashes were, we can still feel the mark that was made on our foreheads.
God touched us yesterday. Through the hands of his minister, he touched us when he painted those black crosses, reminding us that we were once like dust and to dust we shall return.
This very popular Liturgy – churches on Wednesday were almost as busy as Christmas and Easter – has been embraced by many faiths beyond Catholicism. What was once considered something that Catholics do (like eating fish on Fridays) continues to spread across the globe.
This simple gesture of applying ashes got me thinking of other ways that God has physically touched us – directly or indirectly throughout our history.
To give Adam the shared power to create life, he reached inside of him and grabbed a rib. Later, he used his powerful finger to write his laws on stone tablets, carried down the mountain by Moses – after he showed his power through plagues on Egypt and the parting of the Red Sea.
In the New Testament, we see Jesus touching the lame, spreading mud on sightless eyes and – in one of the most compelling scenes from the Gospel of John – he used his finger to write something on the ground, while a mob of men were poised to stone a woman to death for adultery.
We don’t know what Jesus was writing into the dirt that day. But I often think of that when I approach the altar for my own ashes.
It’s as if that scene is coming back to life … the finger of Christ writing his will on my head and my heart, reminding me that there is more to life with Him than what we see here on Earth.
I’m reminded of Psalm 103 …
“As for man, his days are like grass; he flowers like the flower of the field; the wind blows and he is gone; and his place never sees him again.
“But the love of the Lord is everlasting …”
That’s a nice thing to remember as we enter our 40 days of prayer, fasting and alms-giving. It is good to be reminded that all the things that we chase after in our busy lives – money, power, gratification, comfort, adulation – it is all fleeting and will mean nothing on the day we truly return to dust.
Lent is a time for us to reconnect with what truly matters – our love of God, our love of family, friends and especially love and forgiveness for our enemies. It is quite natural for us to drift away from these things as we are constantly bombarded with different messages from this world.
It is time to rethink our priorities.
The Season of Lent is a 40-day gift from Mother Church, who recognizes the benefits of “spending time in the desert” as a way of renewal, just prior to the celebration of Easter.
Embrace these days as best you can.
Remember that is it not a sprint, but a long-distance run.
We are not called to walk around glum and gloomy because we are fasting … instead, let us keep our chins up and smiles on our faces despite our increased fasting and prayer and charity. For we know that a little bit of suffering is a good thing, not bad.
One more image from scripture …
Remember the “ghostly hand” that appeared suddenly before King Belshazzar in the Book of Daniel. Floating in front of his face, this hand wrote on the wall a message, words, that he could not read or understand.
Daniel was called to interpret and told the King what he no doubt did not want to hear – that he had become full of pride, gluttony and sin; he had not kept his faith nor had he given glory to God; and, finally, that God was about to take measure of the King’s life.
That very night, as Daniel had rightfully interpreted the “handwriting on the wall” … King Belshazzar was slain.
Have we taken the time to see the handwriting on the wall … the handwriting on our foreheads?
What message is God telling us today?
Are we listening?
