“Blow the trumpet in Zion; sanctify a fast; call a solemn assembly; gather the people. Sanctify the congregation; assemble the aged; gather the children, even infants at the breast. Let the bridegroom leave his room, and the bride her canopy. Between, the vestibule and the altar let the priests, the ministers of God, weep. Let them say, “Spare your people, O Lord and do not make your heritage a mockery, a byword among the nations. Why should it be said among the peoples ‘Where is their God?’”

(Joel 2:12-17)

The prophet, Joel, reminds us that the message of Ash Wednesday is not just to us as individuals, but to the entire community. It is easy to begin to believe in an individualistic God – which naturally leads to ‘if I repent, if I do good things, then I will be saved.’ It is not about “I” though to be sure God cares about each of us and wants life, health and wholeness for every one of us. In the end, we must repent in community, reach out in community, worship and pray in community and, ultimately, we shall be saved in community. For this reason, how we live in relationship to one another, to God and to ourselves is absolutely critical. The three mandates of the Lenten season: fasting, prayer and alms-giving, reflect these relationships. We give alms for others, we fast for ourselves and we pray to God.

To live in relationship is to live in tension. We see this as adults as we attempt to balance our own needs to maintain our identity with that of the other person. It is almost more graphic in parent-child relationships when a caring parent attempts to guide and direct while standing back enough to enable the child’s development into full personhood. We struggle with this tension because there is a payoff – that payoff is love. It is worth the stress of balancing a relationship with a husband, partner or wife because the reward is a loving and supportive presence in one’s life.

There is tension in our relationship with God. This is profoundly evident on Ash Wednesday. On the one hand there is a strong emphasis on us, on our repentance, our self-examination and on our prayer lives. On the other Ash Wednesday looks way beyond us, pointing the way to and finding meaning in the cross.

We are called to prayer, fasting and alms-giving. If we do these wholeheartedly we are changed, and that change is usually evident. Yet, the gospel challenges us to do all these in private, not in public. There is tension in the balancing of being a sign of God’s love in the world versus the danger of wallowing in our piety. This tension is especially evident when we leave this place with ashes on our foreheads. Are we a sign of God’s love or of our own holiness?

There is tension between one’s amendment of heart and amendment of behavior. Both are necessary and one with out the other is empty. Without heartfelt repentance changed behavior is mere playacting. Without resultant amendment of changed behavior, amendment of heart is shallow.

Finally, there is tension inherent in the acknowledgement of our mortality. “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” They are powerful words for, without an honest acceptance of our mortality, we cannot know what it means to live.