Burn it Down

“Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

This statement, said by the priest as ashes are distributed on Ash Wednesday, is the heart and soul of the service that day… at least I thought so.

Photo by Niklas Ohlrogge on Unsplash

At the ecumenical Ash Wednesday service I attended this year participating clergy were instructed by the host pastor to apply the ashes to each person’s forehead saying, “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” I have no objection to that statement, in its own way it is an efficient summary of the message of the New Testament. It just didn’t seem to capture what Lent is about, especially what Ash Wednesday is about.

So what is this service supposed to be all about? What are we really doing? And what might we be avoiding by softening the language?

I actually think our Buddhist friends have it right — all life is suffering, and we suffer because we cling to things. We cling to our stories, our plans, our beliefs, our relationships. We want things that are by definition impermanent to be permanent parts of our identity. And all our clinging doesn’t get us what we want, it only increases our suffering.

So, the only real questions are, how do we stop clinging, and what will be left when we’re done?

I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that all of our Lenten disciplines — giving up social media or other bad habits, or taking on practices of charity or self-care — are important and necessary practices. But their value lies in their ability to prepare us for the only practice that really matters. And that one is releasing all the stuff that we have been clinging to all along.

And by ‘release' I mean burn it down. Burn it all down. Take the stories about who done you wrong, about how many times you screwed up, about the future when you’ll show everyone what you’re made of, and burn them to the ground. Take the judgements you make about yourself, and everyone else, your critiques and envies and resentments and desires and let them go. Take your tiny bits of happiness, your dream boards and fantasy princes and toss them down the drain.

Turn all of it to ash. That’s how we stop the clinging; that’s what all the other practices are training us for.

And then what’s left? Once the past and the future, the plans and regrets, the judgements and critiques and fantasies are gone, what’s left will be simply and completely the Divine One who is the Ground of Being, the Source of Love and Life and Joy.

Ash is incredibly fertile ground. What grows in the aftermath of a volcano or forest fire is often the result of years of dormant, patient waiting. And there is God. Patiently waiting for each of us to burn down the stuff that we thought was important and create the ash in which Divine Life can flourish.

This is the moment in which to burn it all down, step fearlessly through the flames, and come out the other side purged and burnished and ablaze with life. Who’s coming with me?