This year, Ash Wednesday on the liturgical calendar
coincided with Valentine’s Day on the secular calendar. On the surface of
things, the two days don't seem like they should go together. But the
rare convergence of chronos and kairos time
that caused hearts and ashes to mingle this year provides an opportunity to
contemplate the connection between these two observances a bit more. I
think, as we do, we discover that both observances celebrate love, each
in a very different way.
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| When Ashes and Love Mingle |
Valentine's Day is an in-your-face celebration of romantic
love (eros), as we shower the one we love with gifts to prove to them
just how much we love him or her. It's sort of hard to miss because our
culture clobbers us over the head with cards, flowers, chocolates, and all
matter of other creative gifts for February 14. In fact, the holiday is difficult
for people who don't have that "special someone" in their life.
I remember when I was single, it wasn't my favorite day of the year.
When you were young, it was okay for your mom to give you Valentine's Cards;
when one gets older, that's a bit more awkward. When you were in elementary
school they typically forced you to give a card to everyone in
class, so you were sure to get some cards. But at a certain age, the
"artificial sources" of cards tend to dry up and you are on your own
to find elusive eros. I found myself on the outside looking in for
many years until I met my wife. (Thank you e-Harmony!)
I must say I'm grateful I no longer have to navigate the world of
dating.
The kind of love displayed on Ash Wednesday isn't as obvious
to the world—but I would argue it’s more
real. People see a bunch of people walking around with ashes on
their forehead at the grocery store, or wherever, and wonder what the heck it
means. Sometimes they see what the person is doing while they have the ashes
imposed, and sense that something doesn't add up. In general, the Ash
Wednesday services we hold don't tend to draw near the attendance as the Easter
Sunday services. The focus of Ash Wednesday tends to be on our human
mortality, and some find it a bit depressing and dark to think about death of
themselves and those they love. I assure you that Hallmark doesn't
do booming business selling cards that say: "Remember you are
dust, and to dust you shall return."
As we look to understand the type of love shown on Ash
Wednesday, remember that Jesus once said to his disciples, "Greater
love has no one than this, to lay down one's life for one's friend." In
the same discourse, Jesus explains that he does not view his disciples as servants, but as friends—see
John 15:12-17. The broader context for this discussion is the
Upper Room, where just hours earlier, Jesus showed his friends
what he is now telling them as he kneeled and washed the feet
of each disciple—even Judas's, whom he knows is about to betray him to the
authorities—see John 13. And
not long after this, Jesus will go on to make the ultimate sacrifice for his
friends in that room—and for all that have ever called,
or will ever call, him friend.
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| Remember that you are dust.. and to dust you shall return. |
The common practice on Ash Wednesday is to symbolically
"put to death" or "reduce to ashes" something that we feel
stands between us and a deeper walk with God. We could say that the
ashes symbolize purging away any love interest that gets in the way of our
first love: God. In essence, what Christians do on Ash Wednesday is to
recommit to loving God above all else—even if it requires sacrificing something
we cherish to do it. Over time our love might grow lukewarm, and Lent is
a season to light the fire of our first love again. We're talking about
more than giving up chocolate for 40 days here. This is supposed to
something that truly costs us to go without. It's a sacrifice we
make because we love Someone.
Although the liturgical season of Lent lasts for just six
weeks prior to Easter, for followers of Jesus, Lent should be more than just a
season—it's should be a lifestyle.
So, whereas Valentine's Day celebrates eros, we
can say that Ash Wednesday celebrates agape, the kind of love that
is willing to die for a friend, if that's what it takes. On Ash Wednesday
Christians contemplate our own mortality, and the fact that every person we
love will eventually die. But we don't do it to depress ourselves but rather
because, somehow, through letting a part of ourselves die, we are drawn closer
to the heart of God. We worship a God that, crazy as it seems at times,
allowed Himself to die. Jesus came to us as God in the flesh. He
was the image of God (Colossians 1:15; Hebrews 1:3) whose nature is love (1 John 4:8), and he modeled that love
for the world in every way, up to and including the way he died. The
Cross is the ultimate example of God's sacrificial love—of letting nothing stand in
the way of Jesus's friends receiving God's love. It turned out to be a love
so strong that apparently even death could not stand against it—but that's
getting ahead of the story. We must first face the darkness to appreciate
the light.
