Reflection Thoughts
Ash Wednesday isn't a day I've ever celebrated before. I didn't grow up in a liturgical Christian tradition. If I'm honest, the morbidity of it has always pushed me away. On Ash Wednesday, the priest draws a cross on your forehead out of ashes saying "From dust you came and to dust you shall return." A sign of death is on your head as you begin the next 40 days of Lent. I don't like to think about death; it scares me. I don't like to think about my mortality or impending end date. I don't know many who do.
Sadly, however, death is our one absolute. It is the great equalizer as Kilroy J. Oldster said. We all will die. All people before us have died. To be human is to be mortal. James says in 4:14 that we are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.
American culture doesn't like the concept of mortality. Health and wellness is a billion-dollar industry. Eat healthy, get enough exercise, drink lots of water, and make sure to sleep at least 8 hours a night. Use clean ingredients in food, makeup, and clothing. Don't use plastic dishes or Tupperware. Get outside, take regular vacations, get acupuncture, use the sauna, or do a cold plunge. The list goes on and on. These things are not bad. Most (maybe all) are very healthy, but the motivation to add extra years to our lives distracts from the much less exciting truth: we do not have the control we think we do. Our days are numbered.
I have had to consider death much more this past year than I ever have in my life. After my 4-year-old son was diagnosed with leukemia, the veil between life and death got thinner. Not only did I have to grapple with a life-threatening diagnosis inside my own family, I was now thrown into the cancer world at Seattle Children's Hospital. All of the new friends I have made over this past year also have a very sick child. I'm no longer insulated from the reality of death like I was before.
To be clear, this is gut-wrenching. I would take the insulation back any day. I wish no one had to lose a loved one or even fear losing a loved one. Death is awful. It goes against the very fiber of how God intended the world to be. In Encounters with Jesus, Tim Keller sheds light on the scene in John 11 when Jesus resurrects Lazarus from the tomb. Verse 35, shows that Jesus wept for Lazarus; in verse 38, Jesus came to the tomb "deeply moved." There is a Greek word in this phrase that means "to bellow with anger." He's livid. Jesus is furious at death itself. It's not how it's supposed to be and Jesus is not ok with it.
Ash Wednesday is a day to come face to face with this horrendous truth. We all will die. We are fragile, vulnerable, and finite. There is no escaping it. Our response should not be apathy. Instead, our response should be modeled after Jesus. First, weep. Let yourself grieve death. Whether that's a personal grief of someone you've lost that you love or a general grief at the state of the world. Joel calls us to put on sackcloth, mourn, and wail. Don't move past this. Sit in it. And secondly, get mad. Get mad at the suffering, sin, death, and brokenness that you see around you. Get mad that kids get cancer, and that people lose their spouses, parents, grandparents, and children. Get mad that people's bodies are broken and that they live their lives with chronic pain. Get mad that people harm each other and take lives that are not theirs to take. Jesus rages over death. We should too.
I encourage you this Ash Wednesday to take time out of your regular schedule to feel this weight as a family. Kids feel deep sadness too and can benefit from having space to acknowledge it. It is important to honor grief rather than move right to the uplifting stuff. Easter is coming, but first Lent. Before we can truly rejoice at the eternal life Jesus offers us through the cross, we must first accept our mortality. Ash Wednesday is the day to start the Lenten period of fasting. It makes us face our mortality and finitude. We are not God. We are human. From dust we came and to dust we shall return.
Worship Instructions
(To be followed alone, as a family, or in a small group)
Read: Joel 2:12-17
Speak: something that you're choosing to lament this year. Light a candle to signify the importance of grieving what burdens you today.
Pray: whether you're alone or in a group, pray aloud. Pray a prayer of lament for the suffering in our world, for our mortality as humans, for sin, and the start of this Lenten season.
Additional Resources
If you're interested in reading more about Lent, here are some devotional guides to study:
Kate Bowler (devotional with a poetic style) https://katebowler.com/seasonal_devotional/the-hardest-part/
Tim Keller (theological, Biblical study) https://gospelinlife.com/devotional/lent/
Esau McCauley (physical book on Lent as a whole) https://esaumccaulley.com/books/lent/