Ash Wednesday
Joel 2:12-18; Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17; 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
Peter Folan, S.J.
This is not a good time of year for my sister.
Now, I am not talking about the liturgical season of Lent,
which begins today, Ash Wednesday.
I am talking about what is, at least for her, allergy season.
I always figured allergy season was a phenomenon of spring, or summer,
or maybe even autumn, but my sister assures me that
her allergies act up in the winter too.
They got so bad the other day that her physician sent her for a CAT scan of her head
just to make sure things were looking okay.
Thanks be to God, they were.
But my sister was telling me about the little printed report she received after the tests.
The report had the usual categories of name, date of birth, height, weight, etc.,
all of which were filled out with the appropriate information.
Only then a final category appeared on the sheet: brain.
We had a laugh when Erin told me that, printed next to that category,
was the word, “Unremarkable.”
We Folans hate being unremarkable in anything,
except maybe dancing.
We like to blend there.
I mention this because the way I read this packed church,
the reason I think that we all pile in here tonight,
even if we will not darken the doorsteps of a church again until
Palm Sunday, or Easter, or perhaps later still,
has everything to do with a conviction I believe we all share.
None of us wants to look at the report of our lives this year
and see next to the category of Lent the word “unremarkable.”
And so, tonight, our question is a simple one:
how do I make Lent this year remarkable?
I could stand here and repeat the traditional answers to that question,
for instance, telling you all about the Lenten holy trinity of
fasting, prayer, and almsgiving.
And I would not be wrong to repeat those things –
they are at the heart of tonight’s gospel reading.
I could stand here and urge you to give up something you like, something you delight in,
as a sacrifice, as a reminder that, as much as we might enjoy the things of this life,
all of us are destined for another life, life with God,
a life that often turns the tables on things the world calls valuable.
I could stand here and offer that, instead of pledging not to do something you like,
why don’t you decide to do something additional,
something like volunteering at a homeless shelter, or
spending time with someone who is marginalized, or
getting in touch with friends and family you may have neglected for a while.
I could stand here and do any of those things, but I won’t.
Tonight, in response to the question of how we can make this Lent remarkable,
I will stand here and suggest that we all commit to doing one thing
over these next forty days:
I suggest that we all commit to celebrating the Sacrament of Penance,
or as it is known in common parlance, going to confession.
Before you tune me out on account of having heard a million homilies just like this before,
let me offer you three reasons that are not among those that are motivating me
to make this suggestion.
First, I am not asking all of us to commit to going to confession
because I believe that that is the only means God has to forgive our sins.
I do not believe that. Neither does the church.
Prayer, good works, reception of the Eucharist –
all of these are remedies for bringing us back into
right relationship with God.
Second, I am not asking all of us to commit to going to confession
because I believe that we are horribly wicked.
True, confession is the means that the church has
for reconciling us with God and with one another
should we ever fall into a state of serious or grave sin.
But the sacrament is wide open to us even when
we are not in such a state, which, please God,
is where we are the vast majority
of our lives.
Third, I am not asking all of us to commit to going to confession
because I am trying to dress up a duty you must fulfill anyway
as an invitation you may accept.
So long as we remain free from serious sin,
we are never required to go to confession.
So, if these three reasons are not my motivation for suggesting
that we all celebrate the Sacrament of Penance this Lent,
then what is my motivation?
As has been the case so many times for these past three years,
Pope Francis has given me the words to explain myself.
Just yesterday, he met with a group of priests and reminded them that
when people come to confession they very often come with guilt,
or as he said yesterday, with shame.
2
Presumably, those priests did not need that reminder, or at the very least, this priest didn’t.
To this day, when I go to confession myself, I feel that guilt, and, again,
to use the pope’s term, I feel ashamed that I am not always who I want to be,
that sometimes, there is a gap between
who I show myself to be and who I really am.
The Holy Father tells priests that when people come into the confessional,
when people come in with guilt and shame exposed,
that it is the task, not a task, of the priest
to cloak them with a blanket of mercy, and I would add,
a blanket of forgiveness, of timely help, of kindness.
I have been covered by that blanket many times before, and not just in the distant past.
It was always worth overcoming myself to be wrapped in it.
And so I stand before you today, of course, as someone who is a priest,
but the invitation I am offering – that each of us avails ourselves of
the Sacrament of Penance this Lent –
is an invitation I offer as a penitent,
as someone who walks through not the center door of
that confessional, but through one of the side doors.
Our parish will have a reconciliation service later on in Lent;
confessions are heard every Saturday afternoon here;
if neither of those things works, call the rectory for an appointment.
For you students, faculty, or staff of the university,
come to St. Mary’s Hall any weekday morning at 11:45,
attend one of Campus Ministry’s reconciliation services,
contact a Jesuit or another priest you know,
heck, write to me!
Brothers and sisters, I leave it to your good judgment to accept my invitation or not.
I will not be polling you as you leave this evening.
But may we all accept the invitation, the challenge,
to make this Lent remarkable for ourselves and all those around us.
3