Day 1: Ash Wednesday

"Create in me a clean heart, O God." 

Psalm 51

The homily at today's Ash Wednesday liturgy at St. John's at Creighton provided very appropriate guidance for my Lenten journey.  The presider, who was from India, referenced a scene from the movie Gandhi in which a Muslim had recently been killed by a Hindu.  In response to the violence, Gandhi had begun a hunger strike.  Not long into his fast, Gandhi was approached by a Hindu leader who requested that Gandhi stop this nonsense and stand shoulder to shoulder with his Hindu brothers and sisters.  Gandhi's response not only called the Hindu leader to repent for the death of the Muslim, but to also take responsibility for the actions of his fellow Hindus. Gandhi challenged him to not only raise the son of the murdered Muslim but to raise him, not as a Hindu, but as the Muslim his murdered father would have wanted him to be.

This call to a sincerity of repentance and action is part of the impetus of my Lenten journey this year.  My own life contains much turmoil, loss, failure and confusion, sometimes the product of my choices and sometimes the product of the choices of others.  And there is certainly enough violence, bloodshed, name calling, in-fighting and exclusivism in our world, often justified along religious grounds.  May this Lent, and everyday, call us each to a deeper respect of those whom we have previously failed to understand.  May this Lent create a clean heart in me; a heart that draws me to a deeper respect of those in my more immediate world whom I often fail to understand.

After receiving ashes today, my four year old son Nicholas was enthralled with the smudgy mess on my forehead.  He whispered, "Dad, why did that lady put ashes on your forehead?"  My response, in part guided by recent family tragedies was, "Ashes remind us that we are from the ground and we will return to the ground.  They remind us that we don't have much time here and that we need to do the best we can with the time we do have."  And that is my hope and prayer for this Lent.  In my Lenten practices may I be open to allowing God to mold me into the person Nicholas thinks I am.

May this Lent be, for you and me, a reflection on our shared humanity.  May Lent call us to honestly reflect on how we have failed our brothers and sisters and, in turn, our God.  And may Lent afford each of us the opportunity for a renewed sense of peace and purpose as disciples of the Risen Lord.