खरानी बुधबार, पा. अरबिन पोखरेल
We reflect briefly on the meaning of "Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return." We are only dust and that is reason for humility. But God used the dust to create us in his image. That is reason for joy and gratitude. And even though we shall return to dust, we shall be raised again. That is reason for hope. Then the priest prays: "Almighty God, you have created us out of the dust of the earth. Grant that these ashes may be to us a sign of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Savior." As we kneel at the altar rail, the priest "imposes" the ashes in the shape of a cross on our foreheads and says, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." The ash feels slightly oily. The people next to me cross themselves (again). We return to our pews and, while kneeling, we read Psalm 51 together: "I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me… Purge me from my sin, and I shall be pure… The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." Never have I felt Psalm 51 as during this reading. The priest then leads us in confession: "We have not loved you with our whole heart" and a confession of more specific sins, while we pray, "Have mercy on us, Lord." The time of prayer ends with a comforting pronouncement that the Lord "pardons and absolves all those who truly repent and with sincere hearts believe his holy gospel." The transition to the Eucharist is signaled by the priest pronouncing, "The peace of the Lord be always with you." We say the same to all those around us. Then some shake hands, some hug; the couple in front of me kiss on the lips after they proclaim the peace of the Lord to each other. The bread of communion is a saltless, wholesome, dark brown bread—nourishing. The wine tastes tangy. I still like wine better at communion than the flat grape juice we now use at our church. The sharp bitterness of the wine and its association with celebration capture better the mixture of sadness and joy of the Supper. The closing prayer sends us on our way: "Look with compassion, O Lord, upon this your people; that rightly observing this holy season, they may learn to know you more fully, and to serve you with a more perfect will; through Christ our Lord."… Why Wednesday? Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent. The early church determined that the Lenten period of fasting and renewal should correspond to Christ's fasting (Matt. 4:2), and by counting forty days back from Easter (excluding Sundays, which remain "feast" days), arrived at the Wednesday seven weeks before Easter. At one time Lent was primarily viewed as a period during which converts prepared for baptism on Easter Sunday, but later the season became a general time of penitence and renewal for all Christians. And Ash Wednesday became the day that marked the beginning of the Lenten renewal. Why "Ash"? Ashes have a long history in biblical and church traditions. In Scripture ashes (dust) symbolize frailty or death (Gen. 18:27), sadness or mourning (Esther 4:3), judgment (Lam. 3:16) and repentance (Jon. 3:6). Some traditions also have considered ash a purifying or cleansing agent. All these images are caught up in the church's use of ashes as a symbol appropriate for Lent. In Christ's passion we see God's judgment on evil; in our penitence we express sorrow and repentance for our sins; in our re-dedication we show that we are purified and renewed. The ash used in Ash Wednesday worship services is usually the ashes from the palm leaves of the previous year's Palm Sunday celebration. Mixed with water or oil, the ash is carried in a small dish; as the minister goes from person to person, he dips his thumb in the ash and makes a cross on each forehead ("imposition"). And to each person he says, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." (Gen 3:17) The cleansing motif of ashes is...