Growing up Baptist, I had no idea what Ash Wednesday was. Only when I got to San Antonio and started rubbing shoulders with people of other faiths did I find out what a wonderful spiritual exercise Lent can be.
Now most big cities in Texas have at least one or two quirky Baptist churches. Churches that march to the beat of their own drummer, so to speak. We are decidedly one of those. We do things in our own ways, in the ways that seem right and good to us. One of the things we do is incorporate a lot of things from other Christian traditions. Over the years, Lent has become a very important season for us.
And yes, we do the imposition of ashes in a worship service on Ash Wednesday. It took me about three years to get the ash and oil mixture right. The first year I used water, which does not work well. Also the woman who burned the palm leaves didn't have any experience with that, so there were a lot of chunks and stuff in the ashes. People ended up with these dry, gray smudges on their foreheads with bits of leaves and other stuff sticking to them.
Eh, whaddya gonna do? We're Baptists. We don't know from Lent. Sometimes we mess up with liturgical worship, but it's always cute and at least good for a laugh. I remember the first time I decided I wanted to wear a robe for a wedding - another thing Baptist ministers don't often do. I borrowed one from an Episcopal church. Only I picked up the wrong robe, I guess, because people laughed and said I looked like an altar boy.
But I must say that after a number of years, we've developed a very meaningful Ash Wednesday service. The woman who burns the palms to make our ashes does a great job and never forgets. And I finally figured out that you mix them with oil so they make a nice cross-shaped smudge on the forehead.
We are not from a sacramental tradition, so there are no priests in our church. Instead, we are priests to one another. With that freedom in mind, last night we imposed ashes on each other. One person would come forward and stand waiting. Then someone else would come and stand next to her, pray for her, and make the sign of the cross on her forehead with ashes. I cried watching my youngest daughter, who is 9, saying her prayer and making the sign of the cross on her best friend's forehead. The children went first, for some reason. Then people came alone or in pairs, praying for each other and applying ashes in turn.
It was a wonderful evening. Very meaningful and I felt so connected to my little faith community. It was just one of those nights, you know?
Then something very funny happened.
The people of Covenant Baptist Church are full of life. They will only be serious for so long, before someone does something silly or goofy. Last night was no different. After everything was over, Shelby (our middle sister) and her friend Hannah sneaked over to the table and had some fun with the ashes.
Silly girls. I laughed so hard when Hannah made fists and tried to look like a football player. One thing about young people, they won't let you get away with taking things too seriously. And this is an important lesson to learn.
Let me tell you what church is supposed to be. It is supposed to be a community of friends who have walked together through the good times and the hard times of life so that their shared history is more powerful than their differences. It is a gathering of spiritual seekers who do not demand exact conformity in every doctrine, but acknowledge a shared commitment to Christ and fidelity in living. There is real trust and love. Mistakes are made and people are forgiven. And you feel safe. Safe enough to laugh or cry. Safe enough even to sneak up to the front of the church and have a little fun with the ashes.
rlp
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