Ash Wednesday

Start from Scratch

Ash Wednesday derives its name, of course, from the important liturgical action we perform as we gather in worship today—the imposition of ashes. It’s interesting, isn’t it, that ashes are an “imposition,” something that is “imposed” upon us rather than eagerly received. Whether we are eager or not, each of us has chosen today to have a cross of ashes imposed upon our forehead.

Why do we do this liturgical action? What do the ashes actually mean to us? For millennia, ashes have been signs of public penance. And in the words of the liturgy for Ash Wednesday we refer to the ashes as “signs of our mortality and penitence.” They are imposed with the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” At least to me, dust implies insignificance. Remember your insignificance.

But it’s ash, not dust, that is used. Ash. Literally, ash is what is left over when something is burned. Ash is the residue of burning. It is what is left over when something has been consumed by fire.

You may be aware, that as people of faith we burn physical or material things that have had a sacred purpose when that purpose is done. Material things which have been used for holy purposes are burned when their usefulness is done. At least when practical, we burn material things that have served a sacred or holy purpose when their usefulness is done. This is true for the vessels and vestments of the church, things that have been blessed and set apart for sacred use. When their use is done, they are burned. The analogy with cremation is direct. The human body is a material thing set apart for a wondrously sacred and holy use, the sustenance of an individual human life. When the body’s sacred use is done, one reverent action we may take is burning.

One way to think about what we are doing when we burn things whose sacred use is done is to imagine that we are liberating the sacred or the holy from the material vessel that bore it. In burning, we are symbolically freeing everything that is holy, offering it back to God. And ash is left over.

Once you’ve liberated all that is holy, ash is what is left over. When everything that is sacred has been burned away and has ascended like incense to fill the vault of heaven, ash is what is left over. Ash. Devoid of form, beauty, function, holiness. With holiness removed, we are but ash. Without the image of God within us, we are no more than ash.

Even when we’re alive, ash is all we are without God.

We remember this, not just at the end of life, but at the beginning of Lent. Think of Ash Wednesday as a day to start life from scratch. In a few moments I will invite you, in the name of the church, to the observance of a holy Lent. Maybe we could all think of Lent as a time when we invite God to renew holiness within us. The disciplines of Lent are invitations to God to work within us. In Lent we invite God to do what we cannot do for ourselves, to recreate God’s image within us, to rebuild the sacred within us. Starting from scratch. Evidently to start from scratch was originally an athletic metaphor. It meant to start from the very beginning, the starting line scratched in the earth, without any sort of head start or advantage. To start from the very beginning with no advantage. We are ash. And to restore beauty, form and grace we cannot rely upon any of the advantages we cling to in life—our money, our cleverness, our strength, our skill, our intellect. None of those will help us. Only God can recreate us from scratch.

But to start from scratch often also means starting over again after a previous failure. All of our past failures and infirmities, all of our old baggage have also been burned away. We are freed from past burdens as we invite God to work anew in us this Lent. 

Today we are reminded that without the holy image of God within us, we are no more than ash. Through the disciplines of Lent invite God to recreate a clean and beautiful heart within you. This Lent enable God to renew in you a right and righteous spirit. Call upon God to do what only God can do… to start from scratch, from ash, to recreate God’s own image of grace and hope in our lives.