ash wednesday services have never been a big deal for me. i didn't go to them growing up, and didn't even know what happened at one until last year. but tonight, in one of my favoritist churches in the city - i really got smacked hard with the meaning and value of this tradition.
right about the time we started saying the litany of penitence, i started to get a little uncomfy. but once i said the line: "Our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to commend the faith that is in us, We confess to you, Lord", i let the words come out and sure enough they were loaded with conviction (conviction - a yucky churchy word that i seem to not be able to avoid lately).
i'm always caught in this "act like a christian" debacle. i grew up in the church, and maybe for that reason - associate christians with crazy nuts who fake being slain in the spirit and care more about giving exactly 10% then adopting a heart of generosity and tending to the heartbreaking needs that envelope them on a second by second basis.
part of me wants to live in the way that some people i know do - every word dripping with such deep affection towards God and having that elf like, "i'm in love, i'm in love and i don't care who knows it" attitude towards Jesus and all things him. but then part of me kind of wants to hide that light under a bushel, because i see so many people doing things in his name that are just... horrible. and as much as i want to believe that people will lump me in with the group of sweet people who made them a dinner when their son died - instead of the group of people who came bearing scripture verses and a list of reasons why he went to hell and how they can turn this car around for themselves - i know that people don't do that. if i'm a christian, i'm every person who ever judged them.
so i find myself playing my faith down in settings where it won't be accepted. i conveniently leave my location out of stories if i was at church or my missional community or my women's discipleship. i'm terrible at math, but somehow figured out how to subtract God when i deem it necessary and them add him right back when it's a comfortable situation for me to do so.
then tonight comes - and i get these ashes rubbed on my forehead and boom. i'm lumped in with every other person who has gotten ashes put on their forehead. i feel a sense of comradely with each person who has the cross on their forehead. the gangster and the grandma, the stock boy and the kid. and i see people without these crosses looking at us with curiosity - thinking we're all alike or maybe wondering how the blanket of faith stretches out so big to cover the white girl and the homie at the same time.
walking around with those ashes on my forehead was sort of a way for me to say - sorry God. i'm sorry i've played your greatness down. i'm sorry i've hidden you in situations because i've been ashamed of some of your kids. and walking around with those ashes put me on the same level as everyone else. sort of like public transportation for my soul.
i'm gonna go let it shine.
No comments:
Post a Comment