For those of us who call ourselves Catholic, today is Ash Wednesday—a fast day.
Why? Today begins the season of Lent. Lent is the time of the year when we remember the events that led to Jesus dying on the cross for our sins—all of our sins.
It’s a popular notion today that some have that they have committed no sins. This shows a blatant lack of self-knowledge. We should just ask the people we are closest to when the last time we caused hurt feelings or some other offense. The list is a long one.
This morning at Mass, the priest was not suggesting some of the penances, or things we should ‘give up for Lent,’ like the ever popular giving up chocolate. He asked us to keep in mind the violence that sin causes. Violence? Really? This makes one think of bloodshed, bruising or other physical damage.
But think about the bloodshed that Jesus endured. Imagine the bruising. The physical damage of nails driven into his hands and feet, a spear in his side.
In her diary, St. Faustina had many encounters with Jesus. During one of those encounters Jesus took her with Him through the events of the trial, torture and finally crucifixion. During the scourging, Jesus made her to understand what He was suffering in His mind and heart as his flesh was being tortured. The scourging with the whip had metal balls which would bruise and pieces of bone which would tear away bits of flesh. Those wounds, that bloodshed was specifically endured for the sins of our flesh, “sins of impurity.” These sins rip away at another person’s innocence, purity, dignity and soul. As if that didn’t cause enough damage, those sins also wound the soul of the one committing those sins.
Then, Jesus endured the crowing with thorns. Here He is—not just any king. The King above all kings. He keeps his eyes downcast, receiving the crown of thorns, enduring being slapped, punched and spat in the face. Every indignity and insult, the mocking of his just kingship, Jesus took with humility. Why? For the sins of the mind, the sins of our own pride. For the times when we think we know better. Elevating our way above His right, true and just way. Taking matters into our own hands when He calls us to do things His way. Leaning on our own understanding when we think that His way doesn’t make sense.
Finally, Jesus carried His cross. He showed St. Faustina that we each have our own crosses to carry. We can carry ours in one of three ways. We can persevere and be nailed to our cross like Jesus, or we can hold them firmly in our hands, or we can drag our crosses behind us in discontentment. Jesus then told St. Faustina that those who resemble Him in pain and contempt will resemble Him in glory. Those who resemble Him less, will resemble him less in glory. Do I want to show up at the pearly gates dragging my cross behind me, with a sour look on my face?
So today is a fast day. When the priest puts ashes on our foreheads in the sign of a cross, he says, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” It reminds us that God is God, and we are not. In our humanity we are weak. Without Him feeding us, we are dust. If He would cease to think about us for one split second, we would cease to exist. Our lives are so utterly completely in His hands, but how often do we think of that? Are we grateful for the suffering He endured to save us from the consequences of our sins? Maybe this Lent, that would be something to think about.
