If Easter is the grand exit from the confines of Lent, then Ash Wednesday is its threshold. As a matter of fact, the three days prior to the first Sunday of Lent can be thought of as the ‘front porch’ of our penitential entrance into the house of spiritual growth. It is through this first day and days succeeding, that we find ourselves stepping into a journey—where it will take us is not entirely clear. Our practices throughout Lent leave indelible marks upon our souls, creating holy scars that strengthen relationship with God and fortify faith in God. Ash Wednesday’s physical mark mirrors that desire, and helps to serve as a reminder of our mortality with humility. It provides an outward sign that we are beginning the journey anew—stepping into the wilderness with Jesus for forty days with crosses on our heads and hope in our hearts. We know the journey will be difficult at points, yet we cross the threshold of Ash Wednesday nonetheless inspired to deepen relationship with the Almighty.
Unafraid? Not necessarily.
Unaided? Absolutely not.
Much like Gandalf’s mystical mark on Bilbo Baggins’ door—you know, the one that informed the dwarves that this was the place they were supposed to be—the mark on our heads informs us much the same. That mark on the door led the group of rag-tag individuals within on an unexpected journey. The moment those bumbling, disorganized and hungry beings entered that house, they formed a company of adventurers; they didn’t know what lie ahead, but they believed the journey would yield extraordinary outcomes. In a sense, we are much like them. We are searching for a place to be; for someone to mark us so that we can begin our unexpected journey, ending in a miraculous outcome. Often times we do not know what lies ahead, but we accept the mark anyway—we hold hope for successes along the way and prepare ourselves for the failures. When we fall down, the dust reminds us from where we came—and we get back up. When we experience joyful moments, we praise God for the momentary thin space and then proceed, knowing that God is ever-present and still following us since our exodus from Eden.
But mainly, we cross the threshold with unrestrained longing. We long for the Risen Christ. We long for the redemption and reconciliation of humanity. We long for our sins to be washed away, for the dust to settle, and for the journey to continue in new life; while simultaneously longing for vestiges of the marked joy we felt when first encountering Christ.
Will we linger on the threshold of Ash Wednesday? Or will we embrace the desperate longing and put one foot in front of the other, embarking on that unexpected journey into Lent…
…remembering our baptism, being sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with oil and ash as Christ’s own, forever.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+