"Paradox"- Ash Wednesday sermon

Scripture: 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

A few years ago, one of my colleagues in ministry shared how meaningful and surreal it was to place the sign of the cross in ashes on his 1 month old daughter- to know that she is so alive, but also to remember as a parent that we all, even our children, are mortal beings, and to remember that these ashes are reminders of that mortality.  Yet these ashes are also reminders of God’s love for us.  That seeing the ashes on his child’s forehead reminded him that she is so loved and shaped by God, and will continue to be as she grows in the grace and knowledge of Him.  Just as we are covered in God’s grace at our baptism through the symbol of water, so the ashes of Ash Wednesday call us once again to the knowledge of God’s grace, our need for this grace, and that we are all called to be reconciled with God.

            Today we heard a scripture that challenges us to this reconciliation.  To come before God as mere human beings in the midst of our messiness, our greediness, our sinfulness- to humble ourselves before God.  And finally, we are reminded not to accept God’s grace in vain.  As carriers of God’s grace, we might endure difficult things, undergo challenges, but we are to remain strong in our faith, to bear the name of Jesus with confidence.  Because of our responsibility as followers of Christ, Paul tells us that we are imposters, but known, dying yet alive, punished but not killed, having nothing but possessing everything.  Well, what in the world does that mean?  What does it mean that we are dying, yet alive, strangers yet known, having nothing but possessing everything?  What does it mean that on Ash Wednesday we are told not to brag about our good deeds before others, that we are to humble ourselves, yet we walk around with crosses on our foreheads for all to see?

            It really is a paradox.  Such a fun word, isn’t it?  A paradox is a statement that seems self-contradictory or absurd, but in reality expresses a possible truth.  A really catchy song from the musical, “Pirates of Penzance” has a song about love for paradoxes- “a paradox, a paradox, a most ingenious paradox,” the actors sing and laugh, followed by someone saying, “I just love a good paradox!”  Don’t we all love a good paradox?  Here are some funny ones: “nobody goes to that restaurant- it’s too crowded!” Or this one: “don’t go near the water until you learn how to swim!”

            But here is the ultimate paradox: that God became a human being that we might learn to become more godly creatures.  That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?  Or how about this for an ingenious paradox: the cross- a device of violence and death that becomes a beautiful symbol of forgiveness and ultimate love through Jesus Christ.  As Christians, we are also a paradox- strangers yet known, dead, yet alive, in this world but not of the world, we are messy, yet made white as snow.  Today is about the messiness of our lives, yet acknowledging that we are called and reconciled beings.  It’s about putting the sign of the cross on our foreheads, yet walking back out into the world proclaiming that we are not pious or prideful people, but people proclaiming the reality that we are indeed broken and in need of God’s grace.  It’s about acknowledging that we are a work in progress and being continually shaped by God’s hands.

            Last week, the UM clergy of Indiana gathered for a time of retreat and reflection where we were asked to think about the call upon our lives and how we are being shaped by God.  We were also challenged to think about what is shaping us vs. what should be shaping us.  Are we being too shaped by society that tells us we should be a certain way or think a certain way, or own certain things?  Or do we need to get back to God who shapes us, who should be our potter, and us the clay?  We were each given a bag of clay to mold and shape as we thought about these questions.  We learned that clay comes from the depths of the earth, that in order for it to be shaped into an art form, that it must be cleaned and processed, dirt, sand, stones removed, and then finally molded by the potter’s hand.  So clay in itself has to be cleansed, prepped, and even put through the fire in order to be made into something beautiful.  It’s a lot like our very own humanity, isn’t it?- we all carry obstacles to God, our own versions of sand and stones and dirt, those reminders that we are under construction- we are called to turn to God to be cleansed, renewed, and finally reshaped into beautiful beings. 

            The ashes of today remind us of our messes, our obstacles to God, our need for cleansing.  Our need to remember that we are simply dust, and to dust we will one day return.  I had my own experience with ashes this past year when my grandmother passed away.  I was asked to preside over her memorial service- so we gathered on a hot July day at the chapel where her ashes were to be interned and had a meaningful time of remembrance and celebrating her life.  When the time came to put her ashes in the niche that my parents had picked out, emotions started to take over a little for me.  Something unique that she wanted was for the ashes of her dog to be placed in her urn.  So we did that as a family- when we poured the ashes from her dog into her urn, we noticed the bits of bone and dust, and the strange feeling of the ashes on our hands.  The mess, the stickiness, yet the knowledge that we were carrying for our loved one and granting her wishes- that her ashes really represented a long and full life to be remembered, cherished, and celebrated.  In this mess of death, there was still life.

            So today begins a renewal of our reconciliation to God.  We are reminded of the paradox of our faith- that God became human that we might learn to become more divine, that in death, there is life.  After the cross, there is a resurrection.  In times of pain and challenge, there is love.  Mother Teresa said, “I have found the paradox- that if you love until it hurts, there can be no hurt, only more love.”  Through Jesus Christ, God loves us until it hurts- and in that hurt, there is only more love to be found.  It’s the ultimate paradox. 

So as we walk out the door bearing crosses on our foreheads today- signs of our mortality, our messiness, our humanness, we also carry the responsibility of reconciling ourselves to God and to one another, acknowledging our shortcomings, but rejoicing in that ultimate paradox.  I just love a good paradox.  Don’t you?  Amen.