History and Reflection on Ash Wednesday

         
As a child, when I would arrive late to school following the Ash Wednesday services at our church, I remember the stares and questions from students as they observed the bold marking on my forehead. Although I had a general understanding of how the cross I was bearing related to Christ’s death, my answer was always: “They are ashes. It’s Ash Wednesday,” as if that response would totally enlighten my classmates. I do remember that although I felt a little awkward on those Wednesdays, I also felt proud as I wore the badge of my faith.

              Over the years I’ve learned a lot about the history and relevance of Ash Wednesday, and I now find the placement of that cross on my forehead to have more significance than I could have ever imagined.

              The People of God have long used ashes as an outward sign of grief, penance, and humility. The Old Testament is filled with stories that describe the use of ashes in such a manner (Job 42:6, Dn 9:3, Jon 3:6, 1 Mc 3:47). For me, I especially associate the ashes with our mortality. Dating back to the fall of Adam, we believe that death is the consequence of our sins. We are reminded in Genesis 3:19 “…until you return to the ground, from which you were taken; For you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  Ash Wednesday is an opportunity to mourn the ways we have turned from God, accept that death is the consequence of our sin, and repent in the ashes with sure hope of our redemption.

              In 325 A.D., the Council of Nicaea established the 40 days of Lent, reflecting the 40 days Jesus spent fasting and praying in the desert as he resisted Satan’s temptations (Mt 4:1-11). It was years later, at the Synod of Benevento in 1091, that Pope Urban II began the distribution of ashes on the Wednesday that begins Lent. Initially people fasted all 40 days of Lent, eating only one meal a day in an amount that would sustain survival. But that stipulation has evolved, such that the fasting is not so much about the restriction of food, but more about changing our hearts through interior conversion and reconciliation with God and others. As was noted by St. John Chrysostom (347-407): “Do you fast? Give me proof of it by your works!”  Of course, there is still an expectation during Lent that we fast from food on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday (see “Lenten Fasting & Abstinence” on pg. 5 of this bulletin), but that is much easier than adhering to a fast for all 40 days!

                                    The ashes we receive on Ash Wednesday traditionally come from the burning of blessed palms that were used in the previous year’s Palm Sunday celebration. During the Ash Wednesday service, the ashes are placed on the forehead in the sign of the cross, retracing the cross made at our Baptism. We are thus reminded that we died with the Lord by Baptism into death, so that we will be raised with Him to life everlasting (Romans 6:4). As the cross of ashes is applied, the priest or lay minister says either: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” or “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”

              I cannot imagine beginning Lent without attending the Ash Wednesday services.  Receiving the cross of ashes on my forehead unites me to our Lord and helps solidify my commitment to the prayer, penance, and almsgiving that will be a part of my 40-day journey. Although I often get a little over-zealous with my list of Lenten goals, I have learned that God cares more about my efforts of prayer, service and sacrifice than about resuming my failed New Year’s diet. Ash Wednesday grounds me into the solemn nature of Lent, prompts me to reflect on the life I am leading, and prepares me for the 40-day battle ahead.

              As I receive the ashes, I proudly acknowledge that I am a Christian; yes, a Christian sinner, but one ready to repent. God is gracious and merciful to those who call on Him with repentant hearts. I am dust that has been Baptized into Christ and am therefore destined for eternal life with Him in heaven. Alleluia!
 
Linda Olsen, St. Mary Receptionist and St. Martha Parishioner