First Lutheran Church
March 2, 2022 Ash Wednesday
Sermon
“Shrove Tuesday, Mardis Gras and Ash Wednesday”
Pastor Greg Ronning
“Tonight,I have danced with the bagman. Tonight, I have danced with a general. I have danced with clowns and cowboys. I have danced with the president and an elephant. I have danced with a cheerleader, with Apollo, with Dionysus. Tonight, I have danced with God.”
Those words are attributed to a woman named Gertrud Nelson; they belong to “Shrove Tuesday,” “Fat Tuesday,” “Mardis Gras,” “Carnival;” - the night before Ash Wednesday. A time set aside to celebrate life and all its sweet goodness before the season of Lent begins. A time to go crazy, wear costumes and masks, indulge oneself, maybe even overindulge.
And I think it can be said that her words might also belong to us and our experience. Did any of you celebrate “Shrove Tuesday” last night. For some that means pancakes with whip cream for dinner, for others it’s that wild costume party in New Orleans, and for others it’s something in between. Whatever you did last night, even if it was nothing, the words of Gertrude Nelson still belong to each of us in a much deeper way. In fact, it could be said that we spend most of our lives at “Carnival.”
We love to wear our masks. We have so many good ones. We get up in the morning and we put the appropriate mask on and then head out into the world, and “play,” interact with other people who are wearing their masks. Life can be a grand game of make believe. And we dance with generals, clowns, cowboys, kings, queens, and the president.
And why not? It’s hard to face the world “unmasked.” We all know what we really look like. How could we go out into the world without a mask? We got so many blemishes, scars, open wounds. We all Have our shadowy sides. And thus, we can be so weak and so vulnerable. So, we need to cover up, there’s no other way. It’s a matter of survival. I guess that’s what sometimes bugs us about Ash Wednesday and Lent. The scriptures and the words that go along with Lent remind us too much of that conversation we have late at night when we strip the masks off, or the one we have in the morning just before we put a new mask back on, that honest conversation about our life.
It’s been said that our society no longer knows its sin, that we’ve become so hardened and dead to our brokenness. Yet I don’t think that’s the case. I think our sin, our imperfections, our sense of being separated from life and meaning; is so great that all we can do is submit to a life of make believe. As a matter of survival, we put on masks and act out roles just to get through another day. We know sin, we know Psalm 51, we live in it all the time! What we don’t know is “real love,” “strong peace,” and “radical grace.” Those things of God that set us free from having the need to wear masks and costumes.
No wonder we don’t like Lent. Yet maybe we need Lent. Maybe it is Lent that sets us free. Not the kind of Lent where we beat ourselves up in some kind of “existential inner dialog.” But a kind of Lent that we can do together. A season where we can all agree to take off the masks and just be ourselves. A time to gather together, unmasked, and confess to each other that, “Hey I’m not perfect!”
If we did Lent together maybe it would be liberating? If we let down our guard, eased up on our defenses, stopped playing all those games, maybe we would find some peace. If we stopped worrying about what other people were thinking, if we could get beyond “reacting,” and find ourselves doing something “intentional,” maybe we would find some love, maybe love would find us? What if we gathered together, without masks, and reminded each other that we are loved, just the way we are!
Lent is not an individual event. That doesn’t mean that you can’t give something up for Lent, or begin a diet, or an exercise program. But don’t kid yourself into believing that that’s all there is to Lent. Unless we take the corporate dimension of the season seriously, the hard road of Lent cannot lead to the transformation, the rebirth, the new life of Easter.
So, make plans this year to get involved in this community of faith. Make plans to attend the Thursday mid-week service to worship and explore discipleship, the places where our faith hits the road. Pray with a small group, read the bible with another person, serve those in need, do something faithful with faithful people!
Today is the first step, we gather to take off our masks, and expose our foreheads to be covered only with ashes; the ashes of humility, pain, and brokenness. No masks just us. “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” We confess our sin. We face the pain and the darkness we all know so well. We take the time to rest in it together.
And soon it will happen, just when we don’t think we can bear it anymore, the ashes marked in the form of the cross, the same cross traced in oil at our baptism ,will begin to claim us. As we stand together unmasked and naked the spirit of love moves among us. And we realize that we are not only “not alone” in our lives, but that we are unconditionally loved just as we are.
I would like to conclude today with the alternative psalm appointed for this day, Psalm 103. I would like for it to be the last word. Please take a moment to open yourself up to God and your neighbor, to let the masks fall from your faces, and hear this word from God.
Psalm 103
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
and all that is within me, bless his holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
and do not forget all his benefits …
The LORD is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always accuse,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as the heavens are high above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far he removes our transgressions from us.
As a (parent) has compassion for (their) children,
so the LORD has compassion for those who fear him.
For he knows how we were made;
he remembers that we are dust.
As for mortals, their days are like grass;
they flourish like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it,
and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,
and his righteousness to children's children,
to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.
May these words lead us confidently and boldly through the 40 days of Lent and into the new life of Easter. Amen.