The burial service reminds us that we
are mortal, formed of the earth, and to earth we shall return. Earth
to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Today is the first day of Lent. Today
is the annual remembrance of our mortality. Today we participate in
the act of giving and receiving the imposition of ashes. Today we
remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall return.
A few years ago I read an article about
Lent in which the author, a priest, was talking about the Lenten
tradition of giving something up. He said he didn't much care for
the somewhat newer practice of taking something on. Let me rephrase
that – he didn't much care for the somewhat newer practice of
taking something on as a replacement
to giving something up.
His overall point was that, in order to
be a follower of Jesus, we need to deny ourselves. We need to
relearn that we are not the center of our various universes. By
denying ourselves, by our acts of sacrifices, by fasting from our
desires and our ability to engage in instant gratification, we learn.
We learn self-control. We learn that having unfulfilled desires
really won't kill us. And, if we are paying attention, we can learn
what it might be like for those who must go without on a regular
basis.
I'm also reminded of a conversation I
had around the idea of a living theology. Theology is often seen as
a mental exercise; after all, theology means the study of God.
People write theological books and attend schools of theology. But
theology is much more than studying God and writing papers. Theology
must be lived.
The first part of a living theology, I
think, is our Prayer Book. This book takes the study of God to a
deeper level. It takes words that were written in the study of God
and places them in the cycle of our lives – morning to evening,
catechumenate to communicant, birth to death. Episcopalians aren't
kidding when we say, “If you want to know what we believe, come
worship with us.” This book is the first step in moving theology
from our head to our heart.
And one author I read wrote that he has
begun to see faith not as belief in holy acts – the imposition of
ashes, anointing with oil, baptism, Communion and the like – but
that faith is the practice of participating in those acts.
It is through our faithful practice and participation in these
things that hallow them and make us holy. This is a living faith and
a living theology.
Today marks the beginning of our Lenten
journey. In the beginning, God formed humankind from the dust of the
ground. Our Lenten journey will end on Holy Saturday with Jesus in
the tomb. For so did God ordain, we are dust and to dust we shall
return.
This ancient ritual of imposing ashes
can help us see our own mortality in the face of those around us, and
it has the power to create a sacred bond. The ancient ritual of
Communion can help us see those around us as people hungry, as we
are, for life-giving sustenance. Thoughts on God and human life led
to the creation of these rituals, and these rituals led to a living
theology. Lent is a living theological experience that moves us
through life, sacrifice, and death.
This Lent, give something up. Give it
up to learn patience and restraint. Give it up in solidarity with
those who have none. Give it up to deny yourself and follow Christ.
Give it up and look.
Look for how the words and actions of
our worship shape your daily life. Look to see how your active
participation makes these acts holy. And look to see how you are
transformed.
If we pay attention, we just might
notice that we have quit thinking about God and have begun living
with God.
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
dust. How do you live out your theology?
Amen.
1 comments:
I think taking on something can be a way of living into our faith.
Working (volunteering) at a food pantry or a homeless shelter can keep our minds and hands busy when we fast, as well as reminding us that we have been the often-ungrateful recipients of an awful lot of blessings.
Putting on a new mental attitude generally means replacing one thing with another. I am, by my own admission, pretty judgmental, and often my "helpfulness" comes across as bossy. I do need to learn to watch and pray before I leap in with both feet and offer to help or give instructions before I find out if they are actually needed.
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