Ash Wednesday

It’s Ash Wednesday. In my parish we offered four chances for people to come to church to get ashes. There were Masses at 7:30 and 9:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m. There was also a period from 3:00 t0 3:30 p.m where people could just come in and have the ashes placed on their foreheads.

It has always been a time of preparation for Easter. In early centuries Easter was not just the annual celebration of the resurrection of Jesus. It was also the time when the bishop administered two sacraments: Baptism and Reconciliation. So there were special forms of preparation for those who were about to enter the Church — catechumens — and those who were estranged from the Church by serious public sin — penitents.

Forms of preparation developed over time and in different places, and ordinary members of the Church alsoprepared for the great celebration of Easter. Daytime fasting (with a meal in the evening) for a five or six days a week to a total of forty days became widespread. Over the centuries, the Western church relaxed the rules to the point that now in the United States (I don’t know about other countries) all that is required is that people over 14 not eat meat on Ash Wednesday and the Fridays of Lent and that those between 18 and 60 only eat one full meal and no more than two smaller meals — with no eating between meals — on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.

This “fast” is so attenuated that people who are serious about making Lent something special often want to do more that the required minimum. They might choose to eliminate meat from other meals, to limit the size of their meals, and/or to avoid eating between meals Monday through Saturday. Some people choose to give up something else, such as smoking, candy, alcohol, etc. Some take their cue from today’s gospel (Matthew 6:1-8, 16-18) and make Lent a time of increased prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Many writers say that, above all, Lent should be a time when we seek the grace to overcome sinful habits — not to return to them at Easter like good things we give up — but to leave them behind permanently.

One element of Lent is a focus, especially on Fridays and toward the end of the season, on the fact that the resurrection we celebrate at Easter is Jesus’ triumph over death and the sufferings he had to endure in his Passion. So we are encouraged to meditate on the price he paid for our redemption and to see whatever discomforts we endure as sharing in some small way in his saving action. We unite ourselves with him in our intention.

A piece of advice I have seen in several places is to be flexible and not to become discouraged. If we are doing something for Lent, and one day we slip up, we don’t have to give up immediately. We can start again the next day. On the other hand, if it becomes obvious after a while that what we decided was unrealistic, we can and should make an adjustment, and choose a program we’ll actually be able to follow. On the other hand, we could even decide that we can do more than we had planned at first. So we might as well give it a try.

Have a good Lent

Stingy?

A few days ago a booklet of meditations for Lent quoted the account of the woman who brought a jar of spikenard and poured it all onto Jesus' head. (Mark 14:3) The booklet points out that spikenard was very valuable. "This is a story of extravagant giving." It asks the reader to consider, "Shall I be small-minded or large-minded in my giving this Lent? What would extravagant giving be for me?"

Several years ago, I encountered a panhandler on a street in Boston. During a brief conversation, I reached into my pocket and pulled out some money. I saw it was two dollars and decided not to give both dollars to him. I gave him one dollar and put the other back in my pocket. Afterwards, I asked myself why I hadn't given him the two. In fact, I decided to go back and give him the other dollar, but he was gone. By way of contrast, another time I was going with a friend to a play in Boston, and he stopped to give money to a panhandler and gave him five dollars. The two incidents showed me how far from generosity I was.

Maybe I've improved a bit. I generally try to have a supply of cash, including some five dollar bills as well as singles, to give to needy people on the street or in the subway. There's a man whom I've seen from time to time in the State Street station. He has a large old coffee cup and a cardboard sign that says, "Seeking human kindness." We exchange a few words of greeting, and I give him five dollars if I have it. But I'm still unwilling to give more than five dollars. If I have a ten in my pocket, I think I can't give that bill away. Why not? Why not even give somebody twenty?

Getting back to the question, "What would extravagant giving be for me?" I suppose twenty dollars to a needy person would be extravagant for me. What I thought of when I read that question, however, was something very different. It took me a couple of minutes to clarify my thought. I recently took a distribution from my IRA to pay my yacht club dues and reduce a couple of credit card balances. There is about $2,500 which is available for the credit cards. To take that money and give it to charities might be extravagant. Can I bring myself to do it, or am I still too stingy?

2016/08/28 — 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time — Year C

The first reading and the gospel speak of humility and helping the poor; the second reading is about the community within which we worship.


The second reading — Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a — is the last of four selections from Hebrews 11 and 12 that were proclaimed on the 19 through the 22nd Sundays. (We also hear readings from Hebrews on Christmas, Good Friday, five Sundays in Year B, and 24 successive weekdays in odd-numbered years.) This passage contrasts God's appearance at Mount Sinai, when he gave the Law, and the heavenly worship in which we participate in our liturgy. At Sinai God was unapproachable (except by Moses) and the manifestation of his presence was terrifying to the people. But now God has made himself approachable, and the assembly of angels and saints is joyful. We join this assembly through Jesus and the covenant ratified by the shedding of his blood, which is figuratively sprinkled on us when we receive it in holy Communion.


The first reading — Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29 — begins with a recommendation similar to the advice Jesus seemingly gives in the gospel: humility will win you love. Next, though, it tells us that God favors those who are humble. One aspect of humility is knowing your limitations. Finally, there is a seemingly abrupt turn to a recommendation of almsgiving.

The responsorial psalm — verses taken from Psalm 68 — picks up the thought of the poor and needy: the beneficiaries of our almsgiving. God cares for them; his blessings on the land are for their good.


The gospel pericope — Luke 14:1, 7-14 — has two sections after the initial verse setting the scene: the advice to the guests, and the advice to the host. The advice to the guests, taken literally, seems strange coming from Jesus. But the message is not to be taken literally, however effective such a tactic might be in certain contexts. It becomes clearer when we realize, as St. Paul says in Philippians 2:5-11, that Jesus is the one who took the lowest place: laying aside divinity, becoming human, and accepting death by crucifixion. Then the host of the eternal banquet called him to the highest position. We, too, must not cling to our status; we must be willing to accept whatever cross comes our way for the sake of others. This is easy to say, but not at all easy to do.

The advice to the host furnishes a way for taking the advice given to the guests. As in the first reading, the advice is to give to the needy — which is truly giving because one doesn't receive comparable value in return. This is what Jesus did when he humbled himself. He brought us all to the banquet with the Father, despite the fact that none of us has any way of repaying him. We are all recipients of God's mercy and should try to show it to others. Humility includes realizing that we're not inherently better than anybody else, and we don't deserve to be better off than they are.

Ash Wednesday

The beginning of Lent is generally known in English as Ash Wednesday (which is a good translation of its Latin name: feria quarta in cineres). It takes its name from the custom of putting ashes on the heads of the faithful.


Ashes.  Putting ashes on one's head or sitting or lying in them (often accompanied by the wearing of sackcloth) was a customary way of expressing grief recorded in the Old Testament. See, for example, 2 Samuel 13:19; Esther 4:1; Job 42:6; Isaiah 61:3; Jeremiah 6:26; Jonah 3:6.

Lent began as a time for catechumens' immediate preparation for baptism at Easter. Soon it also became a time of penitential preparation for the reconciliation of notorious sinners with the Church, which would also take place at Easter. The bishop would put ashes on the heads of the penitents as  they began this season.

Over the course of centuries the public reconciliation of penitents morphed into the private reconciliation of sinners. Concurrently, the public penance of sinners in preparation for reconciliation at Easter became the preparation of all (who are all sinners) for Easter; and the ashes of the penitents became available for all as a sign of sorrow for sin.

It is worth noting that with this history and significance of the ashes, wearing ashes on Ash Wednesday does not violate Jesus' precept in Matthew 6:16-18. The ashes do not say we are fasting; they say we are repentant sinners.


Scriptures.  The readings for today's Mass approach Lent under different aspects. The first reading — Joel 2:12-18 — has a community aspect to it. The Lord calls for the wayward community to engage in a collective act of penance: fasting and assembling (with no exceptions) to pray for mercy. God is sure to be merciful to the people that turns to him in that way. The psalm refrain, "Be merciful,  O Lord, for we have sinned," continues the community vision, but the actual verses — Ps 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 & 17 — are the words of an individual penitent. We acknowledge that our personal guilt is an element of the community's.

The second reading — 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2 — looks not at sin itself but at reconciliation with God. Lent is a day of salvation, a  time of grace, when we can come to participate in Christ's divine righteousness because he has taken on our sin, removing the obstacle between us and God.

Finally, in the gospel — Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18 — Jesus warns us against the hypocrisy of doing good things just for the sake of winning admiration from others. (The omitted verses are the ones where he gives the Our Father as the model of prayer.) Note that he doesn't say "If you give alms … pray … fast," but "When you give alms, pray, fast." These three things must be part of every Christian's life, and not just for Lent; but the Church considers them the primary disciplines of Lent. In other words, we are to do them more intensively and more intentionally during Lent. We should give alms more. This can include acts of kindness and supplying the needs of others even beyond things of monetary; we can help by giving of our time and our talents. We should deepen our life of prayer, adding maybe a few minutes of prayer or Bible reading to our daily routine. Fasting is what creates the idea of "giving something up for Lent." It has value in reasserting that we are in charge of our appetites; it says that we don't absolutely need these things; it says God is more important than these things which we enjoy; and what we save by not buying the things we give up can and should become part of our almsgiving — the fast isn't so we can spend on ourselves in some other way.

Lent (Edited)

The ancient Christian writers saw three elements as prominent in Lent: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. These are the three things which Jesus mentions in Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-18. He says we should not do them to gain favor, but if we do them quietly, the father will reward us

Of course these should be part of a Christian's life all year, not just in Lent. Here the idea is to do them more intensively during Lent.

The writers say that even more important than fasting from food is fasting from sin. But beyond that, the specifics of the fast one undertakes can vary. Here is where the familiar idea of "giving up" something for Lent comes from. We can fast from food in general, or from particular kinds of food or from eating at certain times (such as between meals). We can also fast from activities we enjoy.

One value of something like that is the practice it gives us in self- discipline. If we can subject our desires to our will, even with regard to innocent activities, then we should find it a little easier to refrain from wrongful things as well. Another value is that whatever money we save can then become part of our almsgiving.

I wish all who observe a good season. May you arrive at Easter with nothing hindering your spirit from a joyous celebration of of the Resurrection.

I was very sleepy last evening as I wrote this and this morning I saw that there was a spot that was nonsensical. I've corrected it to say what I meant.