On Faith: The promise beyond the ashes
Here we are again, about to begin our annual 40-day pilgrimage of Lent. It will all begin on Feb. 17, with what we, as Christians, call Ash Wednesday. This journey will take us down quite a path, starting by reminding us of our inevitable physical death to ending with a celebration of the joyous promise of Easter. During this trek, as we are brought face to face with our own demise, we also are brought face to face with belief that this will not be the end of us. Indeed, we are told it is only the beginning.
As we approach the altar at our Ash Wednesday services, we will kneel to receive a symbol of earthly death when we have a cross of ashes placed upon our foreheads. We will hear the pastor say, "You are dust and to dust you shall return." Pretty blatant, even sobering words to hear, don't you think?
But it is part of our tradition as Christians to begin our Lenten journey in this way. It is also our tradition to be invited and encouraged to use this time to take a deep and sincere introspective look at our inner selves and honestly review our actions, our thoughts, and our words. We are also invited and encouraged to change to put aside all those things in our lives that bring us closer to death. By this death I not only mean the physical one, but also the emotional and spiritual deaths we experience when we do not fully embrace God's gift of true life.
This season of Lent is not meant to be easy for us. If we take it seriously, as I hope most Christians do, it is very hard work. So when we go to the altar and receive the ashes we must be ready to hear those sobering words. Will they frighten us by making us think, "Yes, I was dust and if that is how I am going to end up, so is there's really no hope for me?" Will we feel bleak and hopeless? Or, instead, will we cling to the words of Jesus, that through Him our lives have a special promise and purpose and from that dust we will rise again and be welcomed into a new life of joy and abundant love. This new life is what we all should hold close to our hearts always, but especially so during the Lenten season.
As inhabitants of this earth, we know death. We know that it is scary and very, very difficult. We have been especially reminded of this as we observe Ash Wednesday this year. We are involved in wars in Afghanistan and in Iraq. We see fresh-faced young men and women pictured in our newspapers with the words "killed in action" typed below their images. We are also inundated daily with video and still photographs of the horror of the earthquake in Haiti and the incomprehensible number of people who were killed when buildings came crashing down.
Yes, we know the sting of physical death alright. Some among us may even be dealing with the sadness of losing a loved one recently. We cannot escape this part of life for it is simply inevitable. Such death can seem overwhelming or even depressing.
So what are we to do?
We can't let ourselves become bogged down with the finality of death because as Christians we do not believe in this finality. We believe in what has been promised to us and we need to squarely deal with death and acknowledge in faith that it has no true hold over us. We need to affirm that we are more than skin and bone and hair and organs. We are souls that have a far greater value than any mortal body could ever have.
We must challenge ourselves to look beyond the ashes that we feel traced upon our brows to what these ashes symbolize: the Easter morning that brings with it healing and hope and a new and everlasting life.
So as we go through Lent we pray, we do our devotions, read our scriptures and we walk forward always keeping in sight the vision of the Risen Lord.
The somber tone of Ash Wednesday also is an invitation to look inside ourselves to who we are, what we stand for, who we want to become and how we can be part of honoring God during this lifetime in preparation for the end of this rugged trip. We are a forgiven people. We are moving toward a life eternal with our Father God as he awaits to one day welcome us home. So take this journey seriously to be able to fully appreciate the wonderful Easter promise to which it leads.
Ann Thomas Rinker has lived in Mount Airy for more than 20 years and has written for The Gazette for most of that time. She is married to Roger L. Rinker, a pastor of Harvest Wind Lutheran Church in New Market. They have three children and two grandchildren. If you would like to respond to her column, e-mail her at atrinker@verizon.net.