Ash Wednesday Meditation

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 (Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21)

Meditation

James Sledge February 25, 2009 - Ash Wednesday

I realize that this is not the case for some of you here tonight, but for me, the Great Depression is something I know only from the history books. It’s one of a long list of things that occurred somewhere way back in the recesses of time, when things were very different, nothing like they are today.

Now despite pithy sayings such as “The more things change, the more they remain the same,” it is easy to think that certain things have been permanently relegated to the dustbin of history. Many of us probably assume that modern medicine means there will never again be anything on like the Black Death that swept across Europe in the Middle Ages. It is inconceivable that our nation could ever again base a significant portion of its economy on slave labor, or that we could ever again enshrine into our constitution that African Americans have a value equal to three fifths of a European American. Such things are relics of the past.

And when I took history in my school days, I learned that events like the Great Depression were relics of the past. Thanks to government regulation of the market, FDIC to protect people’s money in the bank, and a whole host of government programs forming a substantial, social safety-net, scenes such as those described in Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath simply could not be repeated. Yes there will be economic ups and downs, but never anything like that again. And then came our current economic meltdown.

Now I’m not saying that we’re doing to have another Great Depression. I certainly hope and pray that won’t happen. But some economists have said that it could happen, that it is a real possibility. I tend not to believe such dire predictions, but that may be simply because of my own optimism, or maybe even because of my deeply ingrained notions that such a thing could never happen again.

It’s funny; we tend to snicker at the certainties of past generations while we imagine that our own certainties are valid. As a society, we think ourselves smart enough, advanced enough, sophisticated enough that we aren’t like people from history who thought World War I was the “war to end all wars.” We can chuckle at predictions from the less than 200 years ago suggesting that if humans ever invented a vehicle going much over 40 miles an hour, our bodies would come apart under the stress of such a thing. We know better. Our predictions would never be so foolish.

To varying degrees, most of us buy into the myth of progress. Now when I say the myth of progress I don’t mean that there haven’t been real advances in the course of history. The medical, technological, and political advances of history are very real. Generally speaking, our lives are considerably better for such progress. But the myth of progress falsely believes that such advances will inevitably lead to a day when we solve all problems and insure that life goes well for everyone. The myth of progress essentially believes that human beings have limitless capacity, and when those capacities have reached their full potential, all will be right with the world.

When I was in seminary, I had a professor who had an interesting definition of sin. He said that sin was distortion. Now this professor’s field was pastoral care, the practical discipline of helping, caring for, and counseling people as they deal with difficulties or transitions in their lives. This professor said that human beings are created with significant and wonderful capacities to do many things. But they are also created with significant limitations. In his words, humans are both “gifted” and “finite.” But sin distorts appropriate knowledge of who we are. Some individuals fall into the distortion of thinking they are worthless and capable of little. But as societies, and especially American society, we tend to fall into the distortion or sin of denying our limits, our finite nature.

And so bankers and financiers can fall prey to their own foolish beliefs that they have the markets figured out and managed to the point that there is no where to go but up. People can lose their life savings because of their faith that certain companies are too big, too well run, too carefully diversified to ever go bust. And politicians of all stripes can cling to the certainty that their ideology can solve all the nation’s ills.

And now we once again enter the season of Lent. As we do, we rehearse an ancient liturgy. As we receive the mark of ashes as we hear once more the words, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” It is a call to remember who we truly are, creatures, creatures with tremendous gifts but with very real limitations. It is a call to remember that God alone is God, and we are not, contrary to what any myth of progress might claim.

God alone is God, and we are God’s creatures. No progress, no advance, no technological achievement, no political program will ever change this, and in a way, both scripture readings for this evening call us to remember this. The gospel reading, a portion of the Sermon on the Mount, warns people about using religion to achieve that they want. In these teachings, Jesus calls us to align our hearts, our lives, with God.

And the reading from Joel is particularly stark in warning people to “return to Yahweh.” Now some may hear these verses in formulaic, mechanical fashion. “Go to church, be moral, and good things will happen.” But I understand these verses to be much more basic, calling us to remember who we are, calling us to return to true relationship with God as creatures –wonderful, gifted, and beloved creatures, but finite, limited creatures – dependent on our Creator, dependent on God’s love, God’s grace, God’s mercy.

“Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”