Ash Wednesday, March 5, 2025 The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling
Joel 2:1-2,12-17 Isaiah 58:1-12 Psalm 103
Almighty
and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all
who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we,
worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of
you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus
Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God,
for ever and ever. Amen.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, death became real on a
global scale. Fears of the virus were universal, and your age, health, and
ability to access modern medicine oftentimes influenced your outcome. The value
of a COVID vaccination was clear to everyone around the globe. With the flu
epidemic rising precipitously in Massachusetts this year, it also became
apparent that less people were being vaccinated, which contributed to the
surges in illnesses. The outbreak of the measles disease in Texas, and the on-going
debate about the correlation of autism with vaccinations, have also contributed
to the national debate about the value of vaccinations.
Freedom to make personal choices about getting the
“jabs” have entered our discourses, debates, and decisions. Moral clarity has
become important and ethical decisions have been rising to the surface of our
conversations. Medical injunctions to “do no harm” competed with other types of
ethics. Questions about financial costs, quality of life, vulnerability, and
human suffering were raised. Legal issues blossomed. Some states enacted
“physician-assisted suicide laws” while some people argued that what “God has
given only God can take away.” Even now, with the current Pope’s recent
struggles with respiratory illness, some people have wondered aloud what his
“end-of-life” directives might include. People can change their minds when
faced with new realities.
What may be good for an individual (read I don’t want
a vaccine) may be deadly for groups of people (read your personal choice
affects our communal lives.) It may be “right” and “fair” and “just” for you to
make a personal decision and yet your decisions are killing us softly, perhaps
even violently. Some argue that the political leaders of various nations are
doing just that, making decisions that seem “just” and “right” and “fair” but
are causing greater and longer damage to their people. Do we align ourselves
with just war theorists or “fight for peace” because “blessed are the
peacemakers”? Which Bonhoeffer are you?
I have been reminded frequently in these past few
weeks of that familiar nursery rhyme called “Ring around the Rosie.” The lyrics
are “Ring around the Rosie; A pocket full of posies; Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down!” According to Wikipedia,
“the origin of the song is unknown, and there is no evidence supporting the
popular 20th-century interpretation linking it to the Great Plague or earlier
outbreaks of bubonic plague in England.”
It became known as a harmless and fun children’s game rather than a
social commentary on a deadly disease.
What strikes me today is two-fold. Ash Wednesday is a
time in our liturgical season in the Episcopal Church when we remind ourselves
that we are mortal, that we are dust and it is to dust that we shall return.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. Similarly, it is a time when we remember that
we are all guilty of sin: individual, systemic, and spiritual. There are forces
of evil and wickedness; and when we are infected by sin of any kind, our
spirits become dust and ashes.
Secondly, I think of the horrific wars going on around
our world and the thousands of untimely deaths that are associated with that
violence. Most notably is the recent tension between the president of our
country and Ukraine. Desperate cries for peace have risen with casualties and
destruction; while some voices argue that aggression must be resisted at all
costs. During war, we are faced with the hard reality of ashes, both human and
material. We can see these ashes in the rubble at our feet and in the landscape
of our lives. While all boats may rise with the water, we all fall down with
war. Everyone loses.
Why would anyone want to put ashes on their
foreheads?
Why would anyone want to be reminded of the
multitude of our sins, how we have fallen short of our human goodness, let
alone the glory of God? Why would anyone want to be reminded of our mortality
when life is beautiful, and we are alive?
Perhaps
it’s not a question of want but of need? Surely those who have recently endured
the hurricanes in North Carolina, and the fire damage and deaths in Los Angeles
need no reminders. Surely those in the wars of Ukraine and Russia, or between
Israel and Hamas, need no reminders. So too the Sudan. It’s just that some of
us are protected by vast oceans on either side of our country. Powerful
militaries may keep us temporarily alive and blissfully insulated from the
horror endured by smaller, weaker, and more vulnerable nations but the media
opens our eyes. Tragedies are undeniable.
Our
Old Testament prophets are known for their dire warnings about the impending
gloom for Israel when the “day of the Lord” will be upon them. As Joel
proclaimed, “Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the
Lord is coming, it is near– a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and
thick darkness! Like blackness spread upon the mountains a great and powerful
army comes; their like has never been from of old, nor will be again after them
in ages to come.” Unfortunately, Israel has endured and continues to endure
invasions from all borders of its country even to the present day.
And
yet these prophets have also offered hope during days of darkness. If we return
to the Lord, as Joel advises, then perhaps we can also hear the promises of
Isaiah. There will be a repairer of breaches in our diplomacy. There will be a
restorer of peace in our nations. There will be reconciliation between the
nations. “If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger,
the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the
needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your
gloom be like the noonday. The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy
your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like
a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient
ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live
in.”
Hope,
as our current vice-president recently said, is not a strategy. However, hope
is universal, and religion is intended to “connect” us with one another and to
God. Spirituality reminds us, like the movie Wicked, that forces can be both
good and evil. However, when and “if we return to the Lord” we may find
ourselves on a different news channel, and it’s good news. Indeed, Christians
claim that Isaiah identified the Repairer, Restorer, and Reconciler in Chief
for all nations to have hope. His name is Jesus.
Our
Lenten season of 40 days and 40 nights begins today. It is a time for putting
down some things and taking up others. Put down the hate speech and pick up the
love of God, for Christ’s sake! Don’t be
a “hater” for “God hates nothing God has made and forgives the sins of all who
are penitent.” Living one day at a time, letting go and letting God, offers us
a spiritual serenity and a peace that passes all understanding. We may all fall
down; and yet in Christ we are raised to new and resurrected life.
“Bless
the Lord, O my soul. He remembers that we are but dust.” (Psalm 103:1,14)
