When Ashes and Love Mingle

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.

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.

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.