Ash Wednesday: March 1st, 2017
I keep a quote from Gilda Radner written on a slip of paper and pinned to the wall over my desk. Radner’s comedic genius as an original cast member of Saturday Night Live in the 70’s propelled her to stardom, and then immortality upon her death from cancer in 1989. The quote was born when Gilda and a fellow cast member, Lorraine Newman, foolishly ate a gallon of ice cream each while hanging out in the dressing room before the show one night. Gilda, frustrated at herself for eating so much just before going onstage yelled, “I’m so full I can’t hear.” I’m sure that we’ve all had a moment just like that: a meal that we took way too far. I saw a lot of people leaving the pancake supper last night that felt like that. But, free Gilda’s quote from these moments – Let it stand all on it’s own – and you’ll find its applicable in other situations. When the day becomes incredibly busy, bringing a flood of people with questions and problems you can’t answer or solve to your door. When your own negative thoughts – that little inner critic we all carry around in our head – starts dredging up failures from the past you can’t change – reminding you of arguments you didn’t start -- that also never seem to end -- and the undeserved blame that you’ve taken ownership of, perhaps for years – or when events in the present that feed on that old negative energy start to grow and become bigger than they need to be – a great, swelling “food baby” of controlling “shoulds” and “oughts” and “fears” and “anger” that block
our ability to hear anything but that negative little critic’s irritating, nagging voice – disturbing the peace – distracting your focus – stealing away our joy. And that’s just what’s happening on the inside – outside our is an ever-flowing cacophony of sight, sound, and information of all kinds – some of its is helpful and good, but most of it is just noise – aural, visual, and mental noise – that keeps us off-balance – as they echo and reinforce those little critics within. “We’re so full we can’t hear.” As you may know – I have a physical hearing impairment. Years of standing in front of loud guitar amplifiers and drums – compounded by two decades of high-pitched industrial woodworking equipment and not wearing ear protection – have left me with a 70% hearing loss in my right ear, and a righteous case of Tinnitus – a constant buzz and ringing – in both ears. Most of the time I’m functional – I can hear fine – considering, but put me anywhere where there’s a lot of noise and chatter – like a cocktail party -- “I’m so full I can’t hear.” I have to resort to trying to read lips … and … when that fails … I just smile, and nod … and hope that I got the answer right. I sometimes find myself acting the part of someone who can hear -for vanity’s sake. It’s silly, really. I should just be reconciled to the fact that I have a permanent hearing loss, and do something about it – stop pretending, see an audiologist, get treatment. Am I making my point, or should I be more direct? Lent has always been called the season of penitence – a time for us to acknowledge our unworthiness before God. The ashes that we use
to mark our foreheads, that traditionally come from the burnt palms of the previous year’s Palm Sunday celebration – representing the broken promises we made in our hosannas – and our rejection of the One we proclaim as “King” over our lives. But, without denying the importance of acknowledging that we are not God – that penitential mindset can get away from us – to become just another set of “shoulds” and “oughts” that change nothing about our full state. I prefer to focus more on the reconciliation aspect of Lent – as a season for mending that which has been broken – of restoring balance to that which has been knocked off kilter -- a therapeutic response, if you will, to our condition as a people of being “so full that we can’t hear.” Martial artist, Teacher, and actor, Bruce Lee used to say, “the usefulness of a cup is its emptiness.” In Lent we are asked to fast – that is, -- to engage in the mindful pursuit of monitoring what, and how much, we take in to ourselves. Fasting is not just about food intake, or denying and punishing ourselves for the sake of religion – fasting is an outward discipline that can help correct an inward state – being so full we can’t hear. If you are someone who struggles with self-criticism --- declare a fast – become mindful of when it occurs, and then refuse to participate – if anything, feast on the opposite – pay yourself a compliment – write yourself a love note – whatever it takes to break the cycle of self-
criticism -- find acceptance in yourself -- and be reconciled to yourself. But, don’t do that without also following St. Paul’s word to the Corinthians “for the sake of Christ, be reconciled to God”. It’s an invitation to turn and draw near to the One who knows and loves you best – the One who continually draws near to us in Christ – emptying self to “listen” to our cries – and offering self that we might have life – “he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus isn’t advocating for a privatization of faith – hidden away from the world. That would be contrary to the admonition to “so let your light shine before others that they might see your good works” – acts of worship and prayer, the giving of alms, and fasting are all good works that spread the light of God … but that is the point … it’s the light of God … not self … that is meant to shine out. The Gospel therefore, is another invitation to be reconciled with God – to reset our priorities, putting God first in our lives. It is also an invitation to be reconciled with one another in community – to fast from a projection of self that would seek to divide people – by setting ourselves apart, or above, others. The ashes we receive are, not a mark of failure – or of shame – but, like the cross of Christ itself -- they are a symbol of victory – a sign that we can rise from the ashes of our mistakes – and more –
because we are free from the power of death and already risen with Christ in his resurrection. “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us.” Lent then, is Christ calling us to authenticity and humility – to make our interior life match our exterior life – beginning by remembering that “are but dust, and to dust we will return” – and emptying ourselves – so that we might better hear not only the voice of God within us -- but also, as servants of the Gospel, better hear the voice of our neighbors without. They just may, after all, turn out to be one and the same.