Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
After the Ash Wednesday service one year I needed to make a stop at the grocery store. Despite having just heard Jesus’ warning about practicing my piety in front of everyone, I decided to leave the ashen cross on my head as I walked out into the night. I proceeded to the market to pick up a couple of things and stood in line at the checkout counter. When it was my turn, the cashier looked at me and laughed slightly at the black mark on my head. She asked if I’d been to a party. I simply said no and went on with my night, chuckling slightly at the idea that the services this day would ever be considered a party.
I suppose I could have been ironic and replied that, “No, the party ended last night.” This, I could have said pointing to my head, is the hangover—a day of kneeling, praying, fasting (though I’ve never been good at that), and remembering that we are only dust, and it is to dust that we’ll return one day. Not exactly a party theme, is it? Reminding everyone that they are mortal and will one day cease to be is likely to bring the music to a stop and cause everyone to say goodnight from even the most lively of parties.
As the years have passed and I’ve wrestled with just what Lent and this day means to me, I find myself thinking more and more about the subject of mortality. Jesus talks in our Gospel reading today about the contrast between the mortal world—where moth and rust consume—and heaven—the immortal world where the breakdown of things does not occur. The idea that comes across is that of material goods. But it’s not just toasters, TVs, and cell phones that wear out over time. People do the same. Sickness comes to many. Age comes to all. Those of us who have sat by bed-sides or tried to make a hospital room cheerful for the holidays know that the greatest gift God can grant to us sometimes is the fulfillment of that promise of mortality—death. While it brings sadness; it also brings joy. Joy because we know that the one we love no longer faces the decay of moth and rust. Joy because we know that we will one day be where our treasure—the ones we love—is also.
So, in a way, the answer to that cashier’s question is “Yes, I have been to a party.” Today we have been to a party for mortality. Today we celebrate that this—a world of sickness, sorrow, and pain—is not all there is.
Immortal One, you know what it means to be mortal like I am. Help me this day to celebrate the fact that I am only dust. Thank you that you know I am mortal.