The Good News!

Welcome! I am the Rev. Ken Saunders. I serve as the rector of St. James Episcopal Church in Greeneville, Tennessee (since May 2018). These sermons here were delivered in the context of worship at the various places I have served.

[NOTE: Sermons (or Homilies) are commentaries that follow the scripture lessons, and are specifically designed to be heard. They are "written for the ear" and may contain sentence fragments and be difficult to read. They are NOT intended to be academic papers.]

Wednesday, March 2, 2022

Year C - Ash Wednesday 2022

The Rev. Dr. Kenneth H. Saunders III
St. James Episcopal Church
Greeneville, TN 

Ash Wednesday - March 2, 2022

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 or Isaiah 58:1-12 


There is something about Ash Wednesday that is completely fascinating to us. On this day, it's both exciting and humbling to see people walking through the streets with black smudges of palm ash on their foreheads. And there are some who question… What's that smudge on your forehead?

But now the imposition of ashes has made its way to be practiced throughout most of the Christian church. It has become popular across many Christian denominations. It almost seems that people want to go to church to get ashes smeared on their forehead, and be reminded that they are "dust." 

On Ash Wednesday – It marks the beginning of our preparation period before Easter. Our "feasting" gives way to "fasting." Ashes, which is an ancient symbol of sorrow and fasting almost seems more important than a desire for the Eucharistic Bread and Wine.  

For some folks, it is an annual chance to lower ourselves a bit and make ourselves humble… to grovel a bit before the Lord. In the context of the liturgy, we recite Psalm 51 – "Wash me through and through from my wickedness" – And we use the litany of penitence – "We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness..." 

And we kneel at the rail while ashes are rubbed on our foreheads and we are reminded that we are dust... Part of the creation that God made… Part of the creation that will return to God one day. This all hits us with a hard reality... It reaches to a place deep within our souls.

These are times when we are painfully aware that we come up short... that we are not as perfect as we think we are… These are times when we are confronted with and are asked to come to terms with our own death.  

Ash Wednesday presents us with an annual opportunity to do a U turn... to consciously turn around, turn back to God and own the sin that we are guilty of... and we can grovel before God till our heart is content. However, for some – in the need to repent, it may be a celebration of our interconnectedness and community. Where the whole community is told, "Remember that you are dust and to dust, you shall return," It is said to each and every one of us: regardless of who you are…

Regardless of rank and status, the rich and the poor, the haves and the have-nots... the homeless beggar, the addict, and the millionaire the unemployed and laborer, and even the priest. We are confronted with our commonality as it's said over and over, "you are dust, and to dust you shall return" is repeated time and time again, and each time we hear it repeated, hopefully, it will sink deeper and deeper into our consciousness... "You are dust, and to dust you shall return"

The liturgy of Ash Wednesday expresses in actions those feelings that are extremely hard to put into words. When we pray Psalm 51 and the litany of penitence in the context of the gathered community we do so with those throughout the world who may be preparing for baptism and we do so with those seeking restoration to the church's fellowship. 

The proper liturgy of Ash Wednesday begins our pilgrimage through the Lenten fast…  And in it, we journey with Christ to the cross... A journey that we know will end at the Easter vigil when we will hear the Part of the Exultet that says – "Earth and heaven are joined and man is reconciled to God." 

It brings us all together to handle; All the frustrations of our life. But, we have all come up short… And as the confession says, "We have all followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done… and we have done those things which we ought not to have done." We have missed opportunities to bear witness to the love of Jesus Christ because we didn't want to be considered to be a religious freak.  

The Ash Wednesday Liturgy taps these underlying frustrations, and we experience a small escape as the liturgy helps us deal with those feelings of guilt within us. For me, the whole liturgy of the Ash Wednesday is summarized in the imposition of ashes: being marked with the sign of the cross on my forehead with the ashes of the past Palm Sunday... To be reminded of my mortal nature.

At baptism, it is customary for new Christians to receive the sign of the cross on their foreheads, and we say they are "marked as Christ's own forever." They are signed with a "corporate" identity as children of God, within a community of believers, with other brothers and sisters of Christ, citizens of the household of faith and of the kingdom of God. 

Oil called Sanctum Chrisma or Holy Chrism is used in marking the foreheads. But, like oil, it is nearly clear, so it is hard to make out the mark of the cross. But on Ash Wednesday, we are marked with the sign of the cross, a sign clearly visible. It is almost as if the reality of our identity as inheriters of the kingdom of God and as brothers and sisters in Christ is only revealed by our getting our hands dirty.

I am going to share with you a brief reflection on the imposition of ashes, that has always stuck with me. I hope you will remember this for years to come. I want you to think of the first mark of the cross on your forehead as the shape of a capital "I" scratched out. The capital "I," represents all "that," which is uniquely me our you. I – me - my strengths and my weaknesses. I - my talents and I - my sins. I have imposed and been imposed with hundreds and hundreds of people on Ash Wednesday, and I am always struck by how different each one of us truly is:  

We come in all shapes and sizes, in all colors and textures. Each one of us is different... Each one of us is not like any other. And each individual person is called into a relationship with God that is different from everyone else – not necessarily better or worse, just different. But also understand that the capital "I" is also that which sometimes separates us from God. It represents those things that "I" claim for myself alone: It is my desire or quest for uniqueness and individuality. It enhances selfishness and egocentrisms and it shatters the community around us... the community that feeds us and gives us life.

We must understand that there is a fundamental difference between "sin" and "sins." "Sin" is the alienation and feelings of being separated from God, that sense that God is totally transcendent and holy and that we are purely mortal and fallen. "Sins", on the other hand, are those little petty acts that are symptoms of the underlying "sin." The capital "I" etched on our forehead forms that Part of the cross that becomes the "I" that Part that underlies my "sin" – the "mia culpa" – the state of being separated from God. 

In imposing the ashes, we have got to remember that the vertical stroke of the capital "I" is always followed by the horizontal stroke of crossing it out. The "I" that is crossed out is the "I" that leads us to feelings of alienation from God.

We cross out the "I" that separates us from God. Crossing it out wipes out our "I" – our individual sin…  and restores us as a community of the faithful… It is as if the horizontal stroke becomes the loving arms of Christ, the loving arms stretched to welcome us back home. This, and only this gives us the freedom and the ability to reach out to others and be in community.

The cross of ashes is a call to repent of the "sin" that separates us from God – it is a call to forgiveness and wholeness – But at the same time, the cross of ashes is formed by our relationship with God. It's a relationship that intersects with community and shares a commonality with all the others for whom Christ died.

To paraphrase one of the Eucharistic prayers, may this liturgy of Ash Wednesday be not only a rite of solace, but a source of strength; not only a search for pardon, but an act of renewal; may the grace of God be present to us on this day and make us ONE in Christ and encourage us to worthily serve the world in his Holy Name.