2022 03 02 Sermon
Sermon for March 2, 2022 Ash Wednesday House of Prayer Lutheran Church
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21; Joel 2:12-17 Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
I spent a couple days last week visiting a friend who lives up north. We strapped on our snowshoes, walked out the door of his cabin, and within a few steps were hiking in woods that were covered in a fluffy blanket of 3 feet of snow. As we hiked, every now and then we’d hear a snowmobile in the distance, but the deeper into the interior of the woods we went, the quieter it became. No birds singing, no animal noises, just their tracks in the snow. No engine sounds, no airplanes flying overhead. Nothing that might distract us from simply being in the middle of the woods, aware of nothing except forest and snow—until it entered my head that our hike could be a metaphor for Ash Wednesday.
The deep blanket of snow that muffled all noise and distraction was the means to help me become more aware of simply being in the presence of the pure forest surrounding me. Yet for today, Ash Wednesday, it’s not the snow, but the ashes that we’ve had marked upon our foreheads. Ashes—there to clear away the distractions of life, to remind us of our mortality, and our complete dependence on a loving and merciful God to one day raise us up again. Ashes—the residue of old, dry, burned up palm branches—are the means for us to become more aware of the pure presence of God surrounding us.
Yet that purity of God, that holiness of God, also drives us to realize how far away we can feel from God sometimes. We know the reality of our sin—the ways we’ve harmed ourselves, and the ways we’ve harmed others—and that sin separates us from God. To regain our unity with God, we need Christ to intercede for us, to (as the Psalm 51 puts it) “create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me.” And the ashes we wear are also a symbol for that cleansing and renewal, because from ashes, you can make soap. Ashes can be used to clean and purify. When we hand over to Christ the ashes we’ve created from our sin, he repurposes those ashes to raise us up once again as free and forgiven children of God, on the path toward redemption and salvation.
In this way, we can use the ashes to help remove the distractions of life that prevent us from simply enjoying being in the presence of God, and receiving Christ’s grace, mercy, and love. Like when I was snowshoeing in the dead quiet of the Northwoods, and there was nothing to distract me from soaking up the presence of the forest all around me.
Now, we know that with God, we’re actually never away from his presence; he’s always all around. It’s just that we can lose the awareness of God’s presence. We can lose the enjoyment of being in God’s presence. And so Ash Wednesday is the doorway into our own journey through the Season of Lent, to take up the prophet Joel’s invitation to “Return to the Lord your God, for he is merciful and compassionate, very patient, full of faithful love, and ready to forgive.”
There are many pathways for “returning to the Lord”, and the traditional Lenten disciplines can each be helpful. The disciplines are “self-examination and repentance, prayer and fasting, sacrificial giving and works of love, strengthened by the gifts of Word and Sacrament”. As you decide how to observe the season, maybe you like to “give something up for Lent”, or attend the Wednesday evening services, or donate time, talent, or money in a special way to help others. Tonight in my sermon, I’d like to look at one of the Lenten disciplines, the pathway of prayer, where Jesus says (in Matthew 6:6), “whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
“Go into your room,” Jesus says. Other translations put it as “go into your inner room.” Your inner room. I always used to think this meant going into your bedroom or something like that, but I think what Jesus is really getting at is not a physical place, but a place “in here”—in your heart, in your soul; your inner room is the deepest part of who you are, where nothing is hidden, and the Lord is always there for you. As the German theologian Meister Eckhart said back in the 13th century, “No one can know God who does not first know themselves.” Your “inner room” is where you are your truest self, where you know who you truly are and can clear away all the distractions that prevent you from being filled with God’s mercy, love, and grace.
How do you find the way to that “inner room”? As Jesus tells us, it begins with prayer. So to end my sermon today, I’d like to invite you to join me in taking 2 minutes in silent prayer. Close your eyes, and picture in your mind that we’ve all just been transported from our church, to a spot all the way up north, into the middle of the woods. All is quiet and peaceful around us. We are simply enjoying being there, with none of the distraction of daily life, surrounded by a beautiful forest that is covered by a fluffy 3-foot deep blanket of snow. Now imagine that the forest represents the presence of God. You’re surrounded by the presence of God. As you are in God’s presence, if there’s something that’s really pressing on you that you’d like to pray about, spent the next 2 minutes praying about that. Or if you’re not sure what to pray about, I invite you to simply open your soul to God, and allow the Holy Spirit to pray within you. Accept each thought that comes into your mind without judgement, and then simply and gently hand it over to Christ on the cross. After 2 minutes of silence, I’ll say a simple “Amen” and we’ll continue the service. Ok. Let us now begin the Lenten journey to the “inner room” with prayer. … [After 2 minutes]… Amen.