Remember you are dust.” These are the words we’ll hear this coming Wednesday as ashen crosses are drawn on our foreheads as a solemn reminder of the transience of our lives, as well as its cyclicality.
Only in New Orleans are we able to revel in the days (or months) leading up to our Lenten celebration. Only in New Orleans do we see those same parade-goers from the day before respectfully lining the church aisles to receive ashes.
As a punctuation to Mardi Gras celebrations, Ash Wednesday seems, perhaps, to be a fitting end. Leading up to Fat Tuesday, revelers immerse themselves in an atmosphere of excess. Live it up, we seem to hear, before we have to give it up; indulge before we sacrifice.
For sacrifice we must. As we receive our ashes, we are reminded of the brief duration of our lives and the impossibility of knowing when we will return to the earth. In this way, the necessity of sacrifice is written large – we can know neither the day nor the hour.
As we recall our mortality and remind ourselves that our physical presence and bodily surroundings are only temporary, we simultaneously prepare ourselves for our rebirth – for an end to our physical lives and a return to our heavenly father and the life that awaits us there.
As a child, I remember disliking the arrival of Ash Wednesday. The black cross held little meaning for me except to say that for the next 40 days, I would be having no chocolate or snacks. Whatever it was that I had given up. It seemed like such a punishment, a sudden revocation of something I very much enjoyed.
It’s for this reason that many skeptics fail to see the purpose of the ashes and of the Lenten season as a whole.
If the sacrifice is meant to signify change – a recognition of something we must let go of in order to attain our spiritual reunion – then how does giving up chocolate fit into that picture? How does the loss of chocolate signify our repentance and grief over our sins?
Our fasting is meant to be a physical reminder of the hardship of denial and sacrifice. For a short period of time, we – like Jesus for 40 days in the desert – endure a trial of temptation. We practice standing firm in our resolve, to not give in to the promises and pleasure of sin and temptation.
In doing so, we are reminded that during these trials of temptation and the beguiling aspects of sin, we can stand firm in our faith, in our resolve to do what is right and follow in the footsteps of Jesus.