The Ashing

Ashes. Not cricket, not a music group, and not one of my favourite things to think about, usually. They are dirty, smelly, and leave an awful black stain on everything – from the ground where they lay to the clothes I am wearing -- if I am not successful in cleaning them up. And certainly not something I would want to parade around with on my person with pride for others to see – Jesus is pretty specific about that! (Matthew 6.1-18)

But as this newest season of Lent arrives, here are a few thoughts I have on some of the ashes in my life …

Ashes of JOY Ashes can be evidence that joy happened in this place. Like the dust which draws new life, ashes evoke the power of creation as God gives us delight. Some of the pre-ash delights he has blessed me with?
A glowing campfire ...
... to bring warmth in the mountains,
… for Mother to cook fresh-caught rainbow trout,
… to sing songs and hymns by with friends and family,
… to roast marshmallows or S’mores
The flames on any number of birthday candles to celebrate a life;
A cosy fireplace on a snowy or rainy night, or just to read by.

Ashes of POVERTY I remember the images of beautiful Afghan children with huge sad eyes begging me for bahkshish when I was 12 years old. Many of those who came up to me had faces caked in dirt, with residue of ashes in their hair, on their elbows and knees, and on their cracked bare feet. From the open fire many of them slept near on those cold nights in Kandahar. They just wanted to touch my white skin and blonde hair, and feel the clean fabric of the clothes I got to wear every day. I would have given them the world if it could have solved their plight. But they were my first experience with the cold, hard facts of poverty. Such a painful feeling, the first time you feel too overwhelmed to help. Where to start? My allowance came in a chit book. Paper would only help keep them warm at night, and it was just a little bitty square of paper for them to add to the fire. It wouldn’t feed or clothe them, or help them get to have a school.

Poverty can be cruel to children on both sides of the line: those who have not, and those who have much but do not have the power to give all they would like to.

Ashes of GRIEF Watching the ashes of someone I love dearly fly into the wind is bitter in that they will no longer be here on Earth for me to hug. In faith, I believe – I must! – the open arms of our Lord will be on the other side of the clouds to capture their spirit and hold them close when I no longer can.

Ashes of REPENTANCE These ashes might be the hardest ones to accept. They are highly personal, and a symbolic reminder to me of the wrongs I have committed. They are not easy to admit, especially in the company of Christian brothers and sisters. But they are placed compassionately on my forehead. The compassion and love I receive within this safe sanctuary of fellowship encourage me to reflect upon God’s inner workings inside my heart. Then, before I step out into a world that offers no sanctuary and little understanding, I silently remove this black residue of a reminder to myself.

Ashes of RENEWAL and REJOICING! Repentance allows that most ultimate of God’s gift – grace! What a freeing feeling I get when I know He pours it over me, again and again.

I like what Father John Beddingfield writes (Angelus On Line Newsletter, St Mary the Virgin Episcopal Church, New York):
While ashes may signify and remind, they also invite. They invite us to repentance. They invite us to turn again to God and to receive new life. Isaiah brings glad tidings to the people of Israel, “to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning.” Ashes are not the end but are just the beginning. They begin a season that moves us through silence and longing into a season of joy and resurrection.

Blessings as you prepare for the joy to come!