An Ode to Ashes

An Ode to Ashes


Lent has never been my favorite “sacred” season—as a child, an adolescent, a middle-ager or now, as a senior citizen. I have come to terms with it, of course, and I know I should welcome this time as an opportunity to be ever more open to where the Spirit blows, though it is still a struggle. However, as I reflect on the recently-passed Ash Wednesday I do have an upward lilt of the heart.

Each Ash Wednesday other Sisters and I marvel at the outpouring of students who come to chapel in the late afternoon to participate in the Mass and—probably most important to them, the imposition of ashes on their foreheads. We sometimes chuckle as we note “They’re coming out of the woodwork.” People we don’t see in chapel any other time will come to the Ash Wednesday services [reported by many a parish minister, too!]. And that’s a good thing, I believe. Something about this age-old ritual still speaks to them and, at least for this particular time, they are in tune with the Church and with the age-old mystery of God reaching out to us with love and mercy-- and we being willing to acknowledge our sins and need of this love and mercy. I got a warm glow as I received my ashes and watched the “hordes” of others receiving theirs. And somehow I am deeply comforted and at peace.

Advent Musings

We are well into the first week of Advent, reminded again that we are a people of hope, of trust, of longing—waiting and looking for some signs that God is indeed in charge of this world and the universe. As usual, I am torn between trying to observe Advent in its totality, giving full attention to its stress on waiting for the coming of Christ, and wanting to turn the radio dial to hear the beloved Christmas songs or to do some early decorating in my bedroom and office. It is difficult to hold to the anticipatory part of Advent and not get caught up in a rush to Christmas. I know that I am not singular in this regard.


The familiar readings from Isaiah are a comfort and a wake-up call. He tells of a Savior who will come to transform us and our world. That signifies a need for change on our part, a need for repentance as well as a joyful expectation of the many blessings our Savior will bring. A little Lenten spirit might help, fasting before feasting; the Eastern Orthodox Churches practice that a lot more than we do here in the west. Both East and West, however, as one writer puts it, have “spiritual goose bumps” as we eagerly look to Christmas.

REFLECTION ON SAINTS ALL AROUND US

When I was in the lower grades, around ages six-eight, I greatly admired angels, their wings in particular fascinating me (and I could not envision angels without them). Then I began reading the lives of the saints—in the upper grades-- and found so many to admire. However, both angels and the saints seemed completely out of my league--beings too far above me to be truly imitated. Still, it was important to me that they existed and one could at least dream about possibly mixing and mingling with them.

In early adulthood my focus on angels gradually lessened and I only sporadically dove into the lives of the saints (the old Butler version had been my constant companion). But a few favorite saints have remained ideals for me and I never tire of hearing or reading about them. Who could not be attracted to such people as Francis of Assisi, Isaac Jogues, Therese of Lisieux, Rose of Lima and Bernadette of Lourdes. They personify the heights to which we humans can reach, in spite of our frailties. Then I look around me and I know now that there are many saints present, not least my fellow Sisters, both living and dead. I think we are surrounded by saints (and angels, too) daily. Sadly, we just don’t notice the halos and wings.