Note that this was the post meant for yesterday, Ash Wednesday, but inadvertently set for March 6. I trust it may still be of interest.
We have a great many trees in our yard. We bought this house 32 years ago because, in addition to other things, it had a large tree in the front yard. We planted many others and they have grown into a small forest of trees though the original maple was taken down in a storm some years ago. It was rotten in the center and, although it appeared perfectly fine on the outside, had become weak and brittle do to disease. We have had winds the past days and before and will after today. After the winds have quieted, I am in the yard picking up sticks. Most of them are dead branches, some even fairly large, which the wind has broken from the tree. It is a nuisance but not bad thing for the tree. It helps by removing the dead limbs that could harm the tree and impede its good growth.Lent comes along like a sudden storm. It is predictable -- clearly there on the church calendar -- but it is also a surprise. We are easily caught up in the things of this life and miss the mortal weakness hidden therein. On the outside, our lives may seem well enough and we may even had made some sort of uneasy peace with death but Lent comes along to challenge that ceasefire and upset our apple carts. Ash Wednesday is the start of that sudden storm. It reeks of hypocrisy, sin, and death. The color is black like the ash. Its message seems doom and gloom. Why would anyone want to go to church on Ash Wednesday?
“Yet even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.” Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin! We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. And the end of the chapter from which the Gospel of the day is drawn: Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
The condemnation is obvious. The Gospel is often missed or, worse, reduced to some perfunctory formula: you have been bad, God is good, try not to be so bad anymore. If that is all this day or Lent as a season is, it is probably better to skip church and to skip the season. That is certainly not all there is here. The righteousness of heaven is not a striving to be better -- not that this is a bad thing or that I should ever suggest we might do otherwise as Christians. The currency of God is His mercy that forgives our sin without any worth or merit or cause on our part. This is righteousness. God's righteousness is not that we are off the hook now or for a while or that our pitiful efforts are good enough to win Him over. No, indeed. God's righteousness is to sweep like a wind and clear our death away. We are not off the hook. We are the recipients of a mercy so valuable a treasure that the pain of its work in cleansing us from sin has been born by Him who had no sin. Imagine that.
Ash Wednesday, Lent, and the sacrament of absolution are like that sudden storm -- upsetting everything that seems normal to establish a new normal. It is not something we are even sure we want since the old sins of our lives are like our most familiar and cherished friends. But He gives to us what we do not even know we need -- a cleansing in which all that is dead in us and even death itself is taken away. Our sins fall like the branches of my yard and God gathers them all up to burn in the holy fire of Christ's atoning love on the cross until there is nothing left but that which God has made new. This rhythm comes every year -- much more often than the old jubilee years of the Old Testament. The jubilee of God in Christ cancels sin's debt and restores us to our rightful owner. This is the righteousness of heaven. To seek first this righteousness is to live in the grace of forgiveness and to cherish as our greatest treasure the mercy that has cancelled our sin and ended the tyranny of death. It is not a call to work harder to justify ourselves but the call to see and be transformed by the work of God to save us. The sticks are gone and the tree restored to grow and bear the good fruit that lasts. Thanks be to God! Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. Of course He is and because He is we are made new.