A Sermon for Ash Wednesday
The Rev. Patricia Gillespie
It's a good time of the year. At last I can see where I'm going on my early morning dog walks. In the winter, walking with four or five dogs in the dark, God only knows what I might step in. More light is a welcome change.
We've watched the days get longer. Since the dark midwinter of Christmas, we've had a little more light each day.
At Christmas, we had ll those lights in the darkness to remind us of the light of Christ being born into our dark world.
All through Epiphany the light gets brighter, from the star that the wisemen followed, until just three days ago when we shared that brilliant mountaintop experience and saw Jesus transfigured, radiant with glory.
And now, suddenly, it's Lent. And we hear the prophet Joel shouting: "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 ......"
What's the deal here? The Light comes into our lives. And suddenly it's dark. First we're told that being human is so good that God wanted to be one of us. Then we hear that we're supposed to lament our sins and acknowledge our wickedness.
I wish that God would quit yanking us around like this. I've done this liturgical year thing before and I know what's coming – at the end of Lent, God hits us with that Good Friday and Easter combination where darkness and light, death and life, get all mixed up together. Can't have one without the other.
So, I guess for God, if we're going to live in the Light, we need to face the darkness too.
Think about that for a minute. What happens when the light around us gets really bright? We see all the little problems that where kind of blurred and hidden before. The dirt in the corner of the room. The blemishes in the lovely complexion. The rips in the fabric and the smudges in the perfect picture. As we come closer to the Light of Christ, the spots and scars and wrinkles and dirt in our lives just can't be avoided.
What else happens when the light around us gets really bright? The shadows of our lives stand out in sharp contrast. Like a camera flash, the once blurry and unnoticed shadow is clear and black. In the Light of Christ, the psychological shadows – those things we don't like about ourselves and have repressed, perhaps hidden even from ourselves – become apparent and sometimes terrifying.
What happens when the light around us gets really, really bright? It hurts. The light hurts our eyes, and we turn away from it. Coming close to Jesus can make our sins appear like dark and menacing shadows. We know we are not worthy. It's painful. We want to turn away. Is it any wonder then that as the Light of Christ grows to brilliance through the season of Epiphany that the shadows of Lent follow close behind?
In Lent it is not that the Light of Christ has abandoned us to the darkness. The Good News of Lent is that we are coming closer to that Light.
Christ the Light grows stronger during Lent (The word "Lent" itself actually refers to the lengthening of the days in spring.) The stronger the Light shining in our lives, the more clear the shadows and imperfections become.
Facing those shadows and imperfections in our lives can be painful, yet there can be treasure in recognizing them, because only then are we able to hold them before God, asking God's forgiveness.
God knows that we are but dust and ashes, a dirty mess. Yet God cares for us as the Father's own children, and God our Loving Parent can make new life out of that same dirty mess.
Now, in the light of the longer spring days, walking my dogs, I can see the messes before I step into it.
In the Lenten Light of Christ, we are able to see the messes of our own lives so we can avoid them and leave them behind.
In the Lenten Light of Christ we can stop worrying about shining in the sight and opinions of others and turn to our Father who sees in secret, both the dark and the light. It's only then that we can see truly and clearly what is to be avoided and what is to be treasured. Then, knowing where our treasure is, our hearts can abide in the Light.
See, now is the acceptable time. On our lenten journey toward the cross, it is time to walk in the Light of Christ.