I must admit, I tend to feel a little funny offering reflections for Ash Wednesday. It is such a sacred day in some denominations. But, because it has rarely been a part of my own church experience, I somehow feel unqualified. Oh well, as out-of-place as I may feel, this day has become important to me. May this reflection bless you, offer gratitude to those who have welcomed me in their traditions, and gather us all toward the coming glory of Easter.
Years after I became a Christian, I had my first experience with Ash Wednesday. While I was (vaguely) aware of Lent, I didn’t know anything about this specific day. Arriving at the Catholic school I was serving at the time, I was confused as to why all the kids had black “smudges” on their heads. Imagine my embarrassment as an adult in the room who definitely had to have teenagers teach me about the ashes they received.
My second experience took place at a non-denominational event when someone placed ashes on the foreheads of those in attendance. I remember really liking the symbolism. And, I remember feeling part of an important ritual, somehow beautifully and mysteriously tying me to my own (many, many) Catholic ancestors.
The final (and ongoing) experience has been through my husband’s childhood Lutheran church. When visiting, I have learned so much about the specific days and rituals practiced by so many Christians throughout Lent (the 40 days before Easter, not including Sundays) and Eastertide (the 50 days after Easter). I have previously written about how my Easter experience has been blessed and enhanced by their approach to days in this season such as Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday.
The Beauty of Ash Wednesday
So, whether Ash Wednesday is a part of your tradition or not, the beauty of this day lies primarily in two things: perspective and reflection on our own mortality.
A few verses often used in Ash Wednesday services:
“Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Gen. 2:7
“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” Gen. 3:19
“All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.” Ecc. 3:20
“As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.” Ps. 103:13-14
As much of a bummer as these verses may sound, there are gifts to be found in recognizing our mortality. Let’s consider just a few:
- When we reflect on how short our time is, it focuses us. We are less likely to spend time or energy on trivial things, instead clarifying our ideals and behavior to match what truly matters.
- When we understand how frail our bodies are, we can stop obsessing over appearance. Yes, take good care of your “temple” but outward appearance was never meant to be idealized or worshiped. It was meant to be used in service to others.
- When we grasp what we came from, and what we will return to, we can let go of all that unnecessary self-importance. Yes, we are immeasurably valuable to God but we also think way too much of ourselves sometimes. Living in this paradox is our lifelong battle between humility and pride.
- In Psalm 103 above, we hear God’s love for us. In our ever-present struggle to “have it all together” He says, I got you. Follow Me, for I know how hard it is in that dust-bound shell of yours. It is My compassion that will get you through these years.
- Most importantly, the reflection and embracing of our mortality sets us up for a celebration of Easter like nothing else. How much more the joy of that day when we grasp how the love of Jesus will be with us long after these human bodies fail.
Well, there you go, folks. An Ash Wednesday devotional from a non-denominational gal who has come to love the symbolism of this day. Whether you attend a formal service to recognize the start of Lent or just step out your door and run your fingers through the earth, I hope your experience is a blessed one. From dust we came and to dust we will return. Pumped to see you someday on the other side in glory.
Photo by Ahna Ziegler on Unsplash, used with permission
Originally published 3/1/22, updated for clarity and relevance.
Anne Rulo 