Ash Wednesday

Today is the first day of Lent. Traditionally, Lent is marked by prayer, fasting, self-reflection, and repentance. It’s sufficiently serious that some Christian calendars have installed a season to prepare for it. It’s called Mardi Gras. Whereas Lent projects a somber mood with a theme of denial and self-discipline, Mardi Gras is just the opposite. It’s a time for parades, parties, and dancing in the streets.

Mardi Gras is, of course, big in New Orleans, but I understand it is even bigger in Rio de Janeiro. The Brazilians call their festival Carnival. Most businesses in the city close for a full week. Workers are given a holiday to attend this 24-hour per day colorful gala in the city streets. Every year five million people, including 400,000 foreign visitors, prepare for Lent by attending Rio’s biggest party.

Mardi Gras and Carnival ended yesterday at midnight and the streets went silent.

Today it’s Lent. We set aside the colorful bead necklaces of Mardi Gras and receive the ashen mark of the cross. We replace the samba rhythms of Rio and the jazz beat of New Orleans’ brass bands with the reminder of our finitude: “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return” (Genesis 3:19).           

Today’s Gospel comes from the heart of the Sermon on the Mount. In this passage, Jesus lays out a standard of behavior for three acts of piety: almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. Succinctly stated, the message is that when followers of Jesus engage in these faith practices, we should do so secretly, without any expectation of external recognition or reward.

Matthew 6 begins, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you” (vv. 1-2).

In his book, Unwinding America, George Parker discusses Sam Walton, a man of humble beginnings who became one of the richest men in America. He says of Walton that he was “cautious about money.” Even after he became a billionaire, he would stop to pick up a nickel on the sidewalk. He still got a five-dollar haircut in downtown Bentonville, Arkansas, and he still didn’t leave a tip. To quote Parker, “He and his company gave almost nothing to charity. But every year each Walmart store would hand out a thousand-dollar college scholarship to a local high school senior, and somehow that bought better publicity than generous corporate philanthropy.”

Maximizing the impact of every dollar spent can be defended as a good business practice. On the other hand, giving for the purpose of maximizing publicity runs contrary to the biblical standard.

Few things in American life are more important to us than money and the things it will buy. Money is a driving force in our politics, our governance, our family life, and our personal lives. Money is even a driving force in the business life of the church. Despite what some claim, however, it is not true that “all the church wants is our money.” Actually, our faith expects a great deal more than our money.

A pastor tells the story of a call he made on a man who had recently begun attending his church. When the minister arrived at the house, the man was working on his lawn. As the minister got out of his car, the man good naturedly tossed his wallet to him. “I bet you came to ask me for money. Well, there it is. Take it.” The minister returned the wallet and told the man, “I didn’t come for your money. I came for your life.”

Christ gave his life for us. Everything we are and everything we have is a gift from God. When you give, give out of thanksgiving for the gift of life. “Do not sound a trumpet before you as the hypocrites do.”

The word translated as “hypocrite” is the Greek word for “actor.” An actor is one who puts on a costume and pretends to be something or someone he or she is not. The directive not to be a hypocrite is to say, “Don’t practice your faith as though you’re playing a role in a movie. Don’t be the person you think will impress others. Be the person God calls you to be.”

So, give generously, for God’s sake.  Give of your money, yes – but also give of your time.  Carve out a few hours a week and volunteer somewhere.

Jesus goes on to say: “And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they might be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward” (v. 5).

This Lent, make some time for private devotions with God.  Wake up 15 minutes earlier in the morning and spend that period with the Lord.  Or retire 15 minutes earlier in the evening and go over the day with God.

After dealing with faithful ways to pray and to give alms, Jesus turns his attention to a third act of piety: fasting. “And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others they are fasting” (v. 16). When you fast, don’t make a big deal out of it; don’t twist your face as if you have just eaten a sour pickle; don’t walk up to a stranger in the street and say, “Did I tell you I’m fasting?”

Although fasting for religious purposes is done today, many of us are more familiar with the practice as preparation for a blood test at the doctor’s office or a colonoscopy. Obviously, that was not its significance in the biblical era. Religiously, fasting was and is a means to come closer to God. The idea is that by denying oneself food, one’s attention can be better focused on matters of the faith. Fasting promotes self-denial as a religious discipline.

Unfortunately, self-denial of any sort is not high on our list of priorities. We live in a time more attuned to self-indulgence than self-denial. In fact, we tend not to want to deny ourselves much of anything. Yet our faith teaches there is spiritual value in self-denial. That is the reason behind the tradition of “giving up something for Lent.” It is the practice of self-denial. Give up something for Lent. A little self-denial is good for you.

And remember: the fasting menu is not confined to food. Sure, some of us could benefit from cutting back on the calories.  But there are other things we could be better off with less of: Perhaps a fast from TV or social media or surfing the internet. Maybe less time with our smartphones.

Giving, prayer, and self-denial are all things that bring us closer to God.

As you receive the ashes on your forehead today, take them as a reminder of your mortality and as a call to purposeful living. In these coming days, give, pray, and deny yourself the things in your life that keep you from getting closer to God. 

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (v. 21).