Ash Wednesday Homiletical Reflections

Bearing in mind the truth that sermons are spoken events, a holy interaction between preacher and congregation that is mitigated by Holy Spirit, I post the text that I used for the Ash Wednesday homily at the congregation I serve. 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God, and from our Savior Jesus the Christ. Amen

Remember, you are dust

these are the words we’ll hear in a little bit

when ashes are traced on our forehead

these ashes are a reminder for us who are healthy that life doesn’t last forever

a reminder to the old and the ill that death may be approaching very soon

a reminder for the youngest in our midst

that though there are many years to look forward to,

the vitality of life now is not guaranteed forever

so we trace ashes on our forehead

a reminder of our mortality

a reminder that life is fragile, tenuous

to be blown away, scattered as in the wind, as dry and dusty ashes from a campfire

remember, you are dust

my friend* has pointed out that dust is everywhere

that it does a fine job of settling on stationary things,

collecting in rarely ventured places

making its presence known only when a film develops

but, he points out,

did you ever notice how when the light streams through the window just the right way

endless particles of dust are made visible?

Always we are walking, breathing, living in the dust.

he concludes with a reminder that God does some pretty cool stuff with dust

Remember, you are dust

and when the light shines in the right way,

when the light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it

there is beauty even in dust

In the beginning, God fashioned and shaped the dust

breathed into the dust’s lungs

and created life,

life, in which God continues to take delight

God takes delight in life

which, as we are reminded today, will end

but which, as we are reminded in the waters of our baptism

is made new every day by our God, the author and giver of all life

this ash that we receive on our foreheads in just a moment

it’s not simply ash

there is oil mixed in it

(though I must issue the disclaimer that some pastors don’t mix oil in the ash they use)

I do, though … and this oil, mixed in the ash

will be traced onto the same place as the oil used in baptism …

traced in the same place where the cross was traced, perhaps in oil,

when we were sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.

The oil helps the ash to stick better to our faces

a more long-lasting reminder that we are dust, and we will return to dust

and at the same time, a reminder that underlying the truth of our mortality

is the bigger truth that in God we are given life,

and only by God’s grace and mercy

we have received the gift of new life

Remember, you are dust

mortal, fragile, temporary

remember, you are dust,

and to dust you shall return

remember, we are dust

filled with breath, spirit, life

by our God, who from lifeless dust

creates beauty, and eternally creates new life

remember, we are dust,

and to Christ we shall return.

Amen.

 
* the person I refer to is the Rev. Christian Nisonger, whose Facebook posting I used as a template for the thought and language of this section of the sermon text. 

$0.02 

Worship

I tend to believe that the sermon is the least important thing that happens in worship. Sure, many of us preachers tend to spend way more time writing sermons than we spend preparing the prayers of the people; way more time writing sermons than we spend writing eucharistic prayers; way more time writing sermons than we spend choosing hymns or reading scripture or coordinating with the altar guild to make sure the sanctuary is appropriately adorned.

Despite how much time we spend on the sermon, I still believe it's the least important thing we do as worship leaders. Not that the sermon is unimportant; quite the opposite. The sermon is important, because it's an obvious and tangible way that our corporate worship connects us to contemporary life. But it's not the only way.

I've often said that the only way I get anything out of the sermon is if I preach it. And then it's usually in the preparation. I listen to plenty of sermons, but it's rare that I remember anything from any of them. On occasion (maybe one time out of 100), I will be moved by a sermon. Not that there's anything wrong with the preacher or the preaching ~ it's just not how I've always connected with G-d. I've always been much more inclined to encounter the divine in the poetry and music of song as opposed to the spoken word. Further, the rhythmic back-and-forth of proclamation and response verse of liturgical worship can occasionally draw me into a holy communion in ways that sermons never have.

Beyond all that, when I preach, I fully expect my words to be flawed. I expect Holy Spirit to do divine work through my words, and I do not take the role of preacher lightly ~ but my words will be flawed. They're probably not as important as some in the congregation make them out to be. Isn't it enough to be together with the community, encounter the living Christ through story and word and meal and song and community?

Sure, preaching is important. But if that baby in front of you is screaming, and you can't hear the sermon, maybe it's G-d trying to get your attention. Maybe today G-d doesn't have anything to say to you through the sermon; maybe G-d's message is to be found in the child who some would call a distraction.

When will we move beyond the marketplace question 'what do I get out of worship?' and on to the communal question, 'how are we being church together today?'

$0.02