Sermon: Ask (Ash Wednesday)

 Ash Wednesday Sermon
February 22, 2023

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

At the end of 4th grade, my teacher gave each of us a little award, based on something she knew and loved about us. Best storyteller, fastest runner, stuff like that. I was proud to receive the “two or more questions award,” because literally every time I raised my hand, I would start with, “I have two questions,” or, “I have three questions.” The award was meant as a compliment, and I took it as such; my teacher explained that it meant I was curious, and curiosity was a very good thing!

But as I grew into my teen years, I wasn’t so confident in asking questions, at least not in my peer circles. My classmates often knew about things that I didn’t, be it current events, the names of pop stars, or what styles were current, and when something came up that I didn’t know about, I tended to keep my mouth shut, lest I disclose my ignorance. Not being in the know about something, especially something with which all my peers seemed to be familiar, was embarrassing, and it felt vulnerable. I didn’t have the self-confidence at that point to admit to my ignorance, because I was afraid of people thinking less of me. It even felt shameful. Even now, as an adult – I know I am smart and capable, and I’m willing to ask questions or admit I don’t know something, but if I ask and someone says, “You don’t know that?” I immediately feel that same sense of shame that I remember from those tender teenage years. 

This has gotten me thinking about what kind of relationship you have, my dear parishioners, to questions in your day-to-day life. Do you ask them? Do you seek out the answer yourself, via books or Google, so that no one has to know that you didn’t know something? Do you willingly admit when you don’t know something and need guidance – and to whom do you admit it? And how do you feel, in particular, about spiritual questions, questions about God and the Bible? Do you have them? Do you pursue them? Are you embarrassed by them? 

I think some questions (in general, but in particular, faith questions) are easier to ask than others. Perhaps some very concrete questions aren’t hard at all, something like, “Why are there four Gospel accounts, and how are they different?” or, “Why do Lutherans baptize babies?” They are simply gathering information. But then there are those questions – and we all have them – that reveal some deeper tumult. Questions like, 

• “How can I forgive myself, or ask God’s forgiveness, for what I have done?” 

• “Why did such a terrible thing happen – did I do something to upset God?” 

• “Can God possibly really still love me, even when I’m like this?” 

• “Will I ever feel healed, or safe, or whole again?”

Maybe we worry that such questions are not acceptable to God, or even acceptable to ask in polite company. They are best just to stay in our brains and hearts, and we can go on pretending on the outside that everything is fine.

And yet, the very questions we are worried will separate us from God and neighbor are the ones that, when articulated, can bring us closer in relationship to God. You see, questions are not signs of doubt, but rather, of strong faith – faith that is willing to face God and wrestle and learn and grow. Yes, the asking makes us feel vulnerable sometimes. Yes, questions require us to come to terms with the darker corners of our hearts. But these are exactly the sorts of things that draw us closer to the God who wants to be close to us, and wants to shed light in those darker corners of our hearts.

Ash Wednesday has a way of bringing to the surface those questions we may not want to ask. It is a day where honesty about our mortality is literally in your face, as we smear ashes upon our brows and hear those words, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return” – even as we also hear of God’s endless grace. Such a poignant reminder has the power to strip away our illusions about who we are and about the lives we’ve created for ourselves. And when those illusions disappear, our questions can surface. This day invites us to trust in God, to take courage, and to ask the questions on our hearts. As you come forward in a moment to receive ashes, and then again later when you come forward to receive the sacrament and hear of God’s promise of grace, I hope that you will bring your questions with you, trusting that a God as big and loving as ours can handle them, and wants to handle them.

I do want to be clear, though, that while God will always receive our questions, and will respond in deep and complex ways, God does not always give us the answer straight away. There seldom are easy answers to the deepest questions of our hearts. Sometimes answers are clear – in the portion of the Sermon on the Mount that we heard today, Jesus seems to be offering straightforward answers to some of the biggest questions of his audience, questions about piety, almsgiving, prayer, and treasure. Sometimes God’s response is to open new possibilities to us. Sometimes the answer is just to sit quietly with us in secret in the asking, so that we are not alone. And sometimes, in the prophets and in the Gospels, the response to our question is to ask another question – because while answers are faster and easier, questions invite us to go deeper. Creep further into that dark corner. Uncover more of what was hidden. Discard more illusions, so that the truth can emerge. 

However you hear God’s response to you, to your questions this night, let that response draw you into the self-examination so central to this season of Lent. Let all of the questions we will hear in scripture over the next six weeks, and all the questions you bring to the table, work in your heart this season, helping you to uncover what is hidden, and shed light on the dark corners, so that God might create in you a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within you. 

And finally, as you embark on a journey full of questions, let this answer always be your guiding light: that you are a beloved child of God, that your questions are not stupid, that there is no shame in asking, and that God will meet you wherever you are in the journey. 

Let us pray… All-knowing God, we humbly admit to ourselves and to you that we do not know everything we wish we did, that we have so many questions in our hearts and minds. Receive them all with grace and compassion, sit with us in the wondering, and by our asking, draw us deeper into trusting relationship with you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Watch the service HERE.