A Spiritual Scar

A part of me wonders if we shouldn’t have a therapist on-call on Ash Wednesday especially after we say the Litany of Penitence. The litany asks us to confront our darkest fears, deepest regrets, and most distressing sins. We are asked to confront those places we hide from even ourselves. The logical question asks, “Why should we even go to those painful and shameful places?” Why add insult to injury? Can’t we just skip over to Easter?! Let me frame the question as if I were a surgeon. 

There is something unhealthy growing inside of you. You might be okay for a little while but eventually your body won’t be able to fight off the disease. You need an intervention. If we do the surgery now and remove the disease, there is hope for healing and wholeness. And if it is any consolation, the scar left from the surgery will be a reminder that you overcame your illness. 

Think of Ash Wednesday, and Lent for that matter, as a kind of spiritual surgery. It might feel scary. It might feel painful, but this spiritual surgery is meant to heal you and make you whole. It is meant to help you let the light of Christ shine onto the deepest, darkest depths of your soul to bring about healing and wholeness.

Think of the ashen cross that I will paint on your forehead as a kind of spiritual scar. This spiritual scar is not only a reminder of your sin and mortality but the ashen cross is also a reminder of Christ’s desire to heal you and make you whole. Included in these ashes is oil for healing. So, as you are outwardly anointed with this oil, know that you are inwardly anointed by the Holy Spirit. 

            When you receive these ashes, I invite you to close your eyes and imagine the light of Christ inwardly anointing all those dark places in your soul with the healing power of God’s love. Imagine the Holy Spirit cleansing the basement of your soul with the brightness of the True Light.  

Once the basement of your soul is cleansed by the light of Christ, you are free to begin storing up for yourselves treasure in heaven – storing up things that aren’t things – things that St. Paul calls the fruits of the spirit - love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Today’s lessons make it clear that God doesn’t need our ritual and liturgy if our ritual and liturgy do not lead us to store up treasures in heaven. In Isaiah, we hear that our ritual and liturgy is done in vain if we do not seek out the lonely, last, and lost, if we do not seek out those who Jesus claims are first in the kingdom of heaven. 

If our religion doesn’t compel us to heal the sick, feed the poor, and lift-up the downtrodden, then we must be willing to ask, “is my religion about a self-improvement project or is it about becoming that wounded healer we know in Christ?” There are plenty of offers for self-improvement out in the world (books, programs, classes). While that is all well and good, the aim of the gospel of Jesus Christ is about bringing healing and wholeness to a sinful and broken world.

            The spiritual surgery of Ash Wednesday is about turning us into wounded healers. We, who know the healing power of Christ’s love, are then compelled to share that healing power with the world. This spiritual healing helps us reprioritize our lives. Instead of living toward the attainment of earthly treasurers, our eyes our opened to the value of heavenly treasurers – treasurers that, as Isaiah says, repair and restore the communities of our world.   

While God doesn’t need our religious practices, we need them. We human beings seem to have a hard time remembering that we are loved and valued. We seem to have a hard time remembering that we belong to God and each other. We need this spiritual scar to remind us that we belong to a God whose property is always to have mercy. And as a people who belong to a merciful God, we, too, belong to each other according to the same promise of mercy.

As you leave here tonight and as you journey through the season of Lent, I invite you not only to notice the ashen cross on your forehead but on the forehead of all whom you encounter – especially on your homeless brother and sister, your lonely brother and sister, and even the brother and sister you tend not to like very much. 

Begin to notice that everyone – especially those who differ most from you – is wrestling with the demons in the basement of their soul, everyone is seeking healing and wholeness, everyone is worthy to know the healing power of Christ’s love. And may God grant you every grace to be a wounded healer in a world desperate to be made whole. Amen.