Last night I happened to mention that it was Fat Tuesday. “What’s that?” asked my son. I told him how, in the liturgical calendar, it was the day before Ash Wednesday which is the first day of Lent. He thought I was speaking a foreign language since all this was quite unknown to him. Yes, I know that I am educating him in these matters just a little late, but I went on to tell him that Fat Tuesday was so named as the day when you ate up all the rich food prior to the fasting period of Lent, the six weeks leading up to Good Friday and Easter.

Young son caught on fast. “Had I known that, I would have expected a chocolate cake for dinner!” he complained. Yes, I suppose he had a point. Or at least pancakes, the more traditional food on the day.

But when it came to the “giving up” part, the self-denial period of Lent, he was clearly going to take more convincing. Being a low income earner, he already considered he was doing a fair share of “giving up” and self-denial since he is now no longer living at home, taking instead that eye-opening course we call Reality 101.

Today is Ash Wednesday. It is so named for the ancient practice of pouring ashes on one’s body (and dressing in sackcloth) as an outer manifestation of inner repentance or mourning, and is mentioned several times in the Old Testament. What is probably the earliest occurrence is found at the very end of the book of Job. Job, having been rebuked by God, confesses, “Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6). In the New Testament, Jesus alludes to the practice in Matthew 11:21: “Woe to you, Korazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! If the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.”

Ash Wednesday, like the season of Lent, is never mentioned in Scripture and is not commanded by God. Christians are free to either observe or not observe it. I don’t remember ever doing so before, but this time I chose to observe it. Christians are invited to the altar to receive the imposition of ashes, prior to receiving Holy Communion. The Priest (or Pastor) applies ashes in the shape of the cross on the forehead of each, while speaking the words, “For dust you are and to dust you shall return” (Genesis 3:19). Those were the words God spoke to Adam and Eve after they had eaten of the forbidden fruit and fallen into sin, indicating the most bitter fruit of their sin, namely death. In the context of the Ash Wednesday imposition of ashes, the words remind each penitent of their sinfulness and mortality, their need to repent, and to get right with God before it is too late. The cross reminds us of the good news that through Jesus Christ crucified there is forgiveness for all sins, and all guilt is removed from those truly penitent at heart.

One never knows when that moment that it is “too late” will come. Of course, some don’t care because they don’t believe it anyway. The warning is there, and Jesus spoke often of our eternal danger if not taking heed. All are called to take heed, but sadly, not as many listen. Which kind are you?

Three weeks ago we got some shocking news that left us stunned. The friend who had introduced my husband and me to each other, someone of our same age, was suddenly dead. She had been so full of life, and we thought too young to die. But of course, no one is too young because people die at all ages, some even before they are born. It is a fact of life, so why should we have been so shocked? Still, we had never expected it.

But penitence is not just about an eternal future, whether you believe we have one or not, but about loving He who created us, loving the One who sacrificed all for us, and knowing how sin in all its ugliness distorts and damages and hurts. We sin because we are sinners, but even as sinners, we can still loath what we do and want to turn away from it. Without the grace of God that is impossible, but once He has drawn you to Him, once you have tasted the goodness of knowing Him, known His compassion, been blessed by His riches, then sin becomes so totally abhorrent. Being free of it and clean again is worth all the self-denial in the world.

Lent is not so much about doing without chocolate cake, or giving up meat as some do, although that can certainly be an outward part of it. Lent is far more about self-denial through turning away from the sins we commit, all of them, not just those of greed and selfishness, and doing so in response to His great love for us. Without His grace I cannot do that, but He is generous in His graciousness and I owe Him my all. Lent, for me, is some more of my journey with Him.

Email Judah

Those things that a man can not amend in himself or in others, he ought to suffer patiently, until God orders things otherwise.
Think that perhaps it is better so for thy trial and patience, without which all our good deeds are not much to be esteemed.
Thou oughtest to pray nevertheless, when thou hast such impediments, that God would grant thee help, and that thou mayest bear them kindly.

(Thomas à Kempis, 1380-1471)

I often dip into this little book for the gems of wisdom that it elucidates from an enlightened understanding of Biblical truth.

Knowing myself as I do, and of my friends around me, there is one thing that is outstandingly obvious… not one of us is perfect! Today’s liberal culture will have it said that most humans are basically good, but while we may think of ourselves and our friends mainly in that light, compared against a standard of absolute goodness (total perfection in righteousness, holiness, infallibility and all those other such superlatives) that idea begins to crumble fast. We may appear good in our own eyes, but how quickly we can find faults by barely scratching the surface. Would you not agree?

Even so, am I not “good enough” to be conisdered basically good? Well, I certainly try. At times I get called an angel, but many other times, I am a huge frustration to those who expect something else of me. And even when doing what others want of me, no way do I measure up very well against a standard of perfection, of absolute goodness. And what’s more… nor do others whom I know.

OK, that’s all old hat… humans have their faults. But how to cope with the frustration of that fact, the irritation others produce in us (or rather, our irritation in response to them - and yes, there is a difference there, a small and important matter of self responsibility!) and the resentment, anger and ultimately guilt that can result? Resentment and guilt are often opposite sides of the same coin, melded if genuine repentance does not intervene and render it spent. My guilt will have me become resentful just as surely as my resentment is a matter of which I am guilty. It doesn’t pay to entertain either for very long. These coins weigh heavily in my pocket.

And what does Thomas say about that? Read on…

2. If one that is once or twice warned will not listen, contend not with him: but commit all to God, that his will may be fulfilled, and his name honored in all his servants, who well knoweth how to turn evil to good.
Endeavor to be patient in bearing with the defects and infirmities of others, of what sort soever they be; for that thyself also has many failings which must be borne by others.
If thou canst not make thyself such a one as thou wouldest, how canst thou expect to have another fashioned to thy liking?
We would willingly have others perfect, and yet we amend not our own faults.

(ibid.)

OK Thomas, you’ve got me there. I cannot make myself be perfect so how can I possibly expect the same of others? I can’t! Not reasonably. Not realistically. Not by my doing, nor by their own. What point is it to be hassled by that fact? It must become an exercise in patience, and if I am a believer (which I am) then turning it over to God for His own intervention according to His will.

What next?

3. We will have others severely corrected, and will not be corrected ourselves.
The large liberty of others displeaseth us; and yet we will not have our own desires denied us.
We will have others kept under by strict laws; but in no way will ourselves be restrained.
And thus it appeareth, how seldom we weigh our neighbor in the same balance with ourselves.
If all men were perfect, what should we have to suffer of our neighbor for God?

(ibid.)

Am I really more harsh on others than I am on myself? To be honest, sometimes… yes. The more irritated I am, the more retribution I want exacted. Make them behave, God! Make them do as I want! And while you’re at it… fix it so I don’t feel so bad, that whatever inconvenience they have incurred is rectified, that I do not need to suffer them. Why should I suffer the faults of others? What a pain they are!

Back to Thomas for the final bit.

4. But now God hath thus ordered it, that we may learn to bear one another’s burdens; for no man is without fault; no man but hath his burden; no man sufficient of himself; no man wise enough of himself; but we ought to bear with one another, comfort one another, help, instruct, and admonish one another.
Occasions of adversity best discover how great virtue or strength each one hath.
For occasions do not make a man fail, but they reveal what he is.

(Thomas à Kempis, 1380-1471)

Yes, we have things to do for others. And what’s more… such a revelation is surely worth some pondering on.