Cross of Ash, Cross of Oil

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

February 18, 2026

Ash Wednesday

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

Psalm 103

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Cross of Ash, Cross of Oil

    Today – Ash Wednesday – is one of the most solemn days of the Church Year.

    And it’s also one of the strangest days of the year.

    It’s a particularly strange day for priests who, over and over, make a cross of ashes on forehead after forehead, young and old, sick and healthy, telling everyone to remember that someday they – we – are going to die.

    But, if that’s all that Ash Wednesday is about, then I don’t think it makes much sense to gather here today.

    Most of us probably don’t need to be reminded of our mortality – especially not here, where we have attended funerals for people we have known and loved – especially not here, where we are surrounded by so many who have gone before us, our beloved dead buried in our cemetery, people who lived, loved, lost, rejoiced, wept, hoped.

    Just like us.

    No, today is not just about being reminded about death.

    And in today’s gospel lesson, Jesus warns us against being a religious show-off.

    This is the same gospel lesson we always hear on Ash Wednesday, which is a little funny and ironic because today is the only day we bear a physical sign vouching for our church attendance – it’s like an “I Voted” sticker made of ash.

    But I doubt that anyone is here today to impress the people who will see our smudge of ash.

    Which is a good thing, both because Jesus tells us not to do that and, because nobody “out there” cares that we went to church today.

    But rather than a reminder of mortality or a chance to show off, I hope today’s cross of ash will be a reminder of another cross, the cross of oil that we received at our baptism.

    You know, baptism is like both Good Friday and Easter.

    Just as Jesus died and rose again, our old self dies in the water of baptism and then we are born anew.

    And right after our baptism, we are marked on our foreheads with a cross of oil, sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own, forever.

    Marked as Christ’s own. 

    Forever.

    There’s nothing that we could ever do or not do – there’s nothing that could ever happen to us – there’s nothing that could ever dissolve God’s bond with us, nothing that could ever break God’s bond with us.

    Nothing. 

    Never. 

    Ever.

    Not even death itself.

    So, in a moment, on behalf of the church, I will invite us all to a holy Lent.

    And on this solemn and strange day and during this solemn and strange season, yes, we should remember that this life is precious and finite.

    We are dust and to dust we shall return.

    But let’s also remember the cross of oil that can never be wiped away.

    Let’s remember and celebrate God’s bond of love with us – a bond stronger than death, a bond stronger than anything.

Amen.

Returning to God with All Our Heart

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

March 5, 2025

Ash Wednesday

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

Psalm 103:8-14

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Returning to God with All Our Heart

Let us pray.

God of Life,

May today’s ashes remind us that each day is precious.

May today’s ashes invite us to prayer and sacrifice and good works.

May today’s ashes inspire us to return to you with all our heart.

Amen.

        When I was a young, it seemed that Ash Wednesday was mostly about getting told that someday I was going to die.

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

        To be honest, I’m not sure I believed it.

But now… I’m not so young, and every day the increasing number of gray hairs on my head remind me that time is passing. 

By now, lots of people I’ve loved have died and I’ve presided at many funerals, including during my time here at St. Thomas’.

And every time we enter or leave this church, reminders of mortality are all around us.

But, sure, if any of you happen to still need it, Ash Wednesday is certainly a vivid reminder that we don’t have all the time in the world - that this life is short and precious, and we do not know that day nor the hour.

But Ash Wednesday is more than just a reminder of mortality.

Ash Wednesday is a call from God – a call from God who will not let go of us no matter what, God who will not let go of us even when our bodies are merely dust.

Long ago, God spoke through the Prophet Joel:

“Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning, rend your hearts and not your clothing.”

Ash Wednesday and the holy season of Lent are calls to repent, to return to God with all our heart.

And we return to God with all our heart by asking forgiveness for when we have messed up, setting aside attitudes and habits that we know aren’t good for us, shedding the sins that divide us from God and one another.

        We return to God with all our heart by spending even just a little bit of time in prayer – could be only a few quiet moments, or simply a word or two, like “Help” or “Thank you.”

Those will work just fine.

We return to God with all our heart by striving to live with patience, kindness, mercy, understanding, and, most of all, love. 

We return to God with all our heart by being here, even when we don’t feel like it, even when life gets busy and stressful, especially then.

Today we are called to return to God with all our heart.

And, with God’s help, if we answer this call, then in just a few weeks what a joyful Easter we will have, what a celebration of new life we will have, right here, with Mary Magdalene and all of Jesus’ friends.

        But first, it’s Lent.

And especially during Lent, 

        God calls us

        to return.

        To return with all our heart.

Amen. 

Abounding In Steadfast Love

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

February 14, 2024

Ash Wednesday

Joel 2:L1-2, 12-17

Psalm 103

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Abounding In Steadfast Love

So the calendar has been playing some tricks on us lately.

You may remember that just a month and a half ago the Fourth Sunday of Advent was also Christmas Eve, a liturgical mash-up that required some flexibility and a quick turnaround here in church.  

And now today, Ash Wednesday, the start of the holy season of Lent… is also Valentine’s Day.

Of course, this calendar collision hasn’t required us to change our plans here in church but it has unleashed some online church humor.

Maybe you’ve seen some of the memes that have been floating around the Internet:

My favorite is the one that shows one of those little candy hearts that usually have sweet messages like “Be Mine” or “I luv U,” but this one says “Remember U R Dust.”

And then at the bottom of the meme there’s this little reminder: “You can’t spell Valentine without Lent.”

Which, you know, is actually true.

I’m usually not a fan of church humor but these have been fun, and, who knows, maybe they’ve helped to remind some people about Ash Wednesday.

And, you know, today’s calendar mash-up does remind us of a great truth.

None of what we are doing here today makes any sense without love.

I’m guessing that you don’t need me to tell you that we are going to die some day.

But we do need to remember and celebrate God’s love for us.

In today’s opening prayer, I said that God hates nothing that God has made.

That’s accurate, as far as it goes, but the truth is way better than that.

As the Prophet Joel wrote long ago, God is “abounding in steadfast love.”

God is abounding in steadfast love – that’s why God came among us in and through Jesus.

Unfortunately, we often reject God’s love.

We turn away from God’s love when we’re not loving - when we judge other people – when we refuse to share what we think is ours – when we are less than faithful in prayer and worship – when we treat people as things to use for our benefit or pleasure - when we think there is such a thing as “us” and “them” when with God it’s always just “us.”

It’s hard to face our sins.

It’s frightening to look at our mortality.

But God is abounding in steadfast love, so we are never rejected and abandoned, no matter what we do or don’t do.

God is abounding in steadfast love, always inviting us, urging us, to turn around, to come back, to live and love as we were always meant to live and love.

May we all have a holy and love-filled Lent, trusting in, and returning to, the God who abounds in steadfast love.

Amen. 

"Heart Work"

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

February 22, 2023

Ash Wednesday

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

Psalm 103

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

“Heart Work”

I think it’s safe to say that Ash Wednesday is one of the more peculiar days on the Christian calendar.

Each year, on the first day of Lent, we interrupt our usual midweek routines to gather together.

Each year, we hear Jesus warn us against showing our piety in public…and then we have ash smudged on our foreheads…where everyone can see it.

And we get reminded that someday we are going to die.

By now, I know many of you well enough to know that you are not here because you want to show off how religious you are – that’s not how you operate, not at all.

And, besides, these days no one cares, anyway.

And I doubt that many of us need a reminder that someday we will die.

One of the gifts of St. Thomas’ is that each time we come here we can’t help but see the graves of people who were once like us.

They, too, had fears and hopes, setbacks and triumphs.

They, too, loved and were loved. 

And, in most cases, just like us, they gathered right here, bathing these old walls in prayer, receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, placing their trust in the God would not let go of them, no matter what.

So, today is certainly not about showing off and it’s not even so much about getting a reminder of our deaths.

No, today and all the Lenten days ahead, are really about our hearts.

In today’s collect, our opening prayer, we asked God to “create and make in us new and contrite hearts.”

That’s what today - and the forty days ahead - are all about.

Ash Wednesday and Lent are about asking God to open our hearts – allowing God to work in and through our hearts.

Our Lenten “heart work” begins with the ashes, which, more than a death notice are really a reminder of our total dependence on God.

Our Lenten “heart work” continues by setting aside, even just a little, whatever might be getting in the way of God and us – too much drinking or too much busyness or too much cable news or too much internet, or just too much. 

Our Lenten “heart work” might mean trying to heal a broken relationship or finally asking forgiveness for something wrong we have done.

Our Lenten “heart work” is making even just a little bit of time for God and us, maybe getting up a few minutes early to say a prayer or to jot down thoughts in a journal or just to look out the window and breathe.

Our Lenten “heart work” might include giving a little more than usual, or coming here more regularly than usual, or maybe getting involved in some good work we’ve been feeling called to do.

But, all we really have to do is take our “heart work” seriously, and God will take it from there – opening our hearts – making in us new and contrite hearts – and then working in and through our beautiful new hearts.

What could be better than that?

I wish you all a holy and heart-felt Lent.

Amen.

Ashes of Grace

St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD

March 2, 2022

Ash Wednesday

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

Psalm 103:8-14

2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Ashes of Grace 

I guess about ten years ago now, lots of Episcopal churches began a new Ash Wednesday tradition: “Ashes to Go” 

Because lots of people can’t or won’t come to our Ash Wednesday services, we decided to bring Ash Wednesday to the people.

So, since then, all across the church, including I’m told here at St. Thomas’, clergy and lay people have fanned out to train stations and bus stops, with signs announcing that ashes were available. 

And because these days nothing really happens unless it’s posted on social media, there are always lots of Facebook photos of clergy and lay people ready to impose ashes on commuters and other passersby, ready to say those familiar words:

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

At first, “Ashes to Go” did stir up a bit of controversy, with some arguing that it was a bad idea to separate the ashes from everything else we say and do in church on this day.

They suggested that just smudging ashes on foreheads and telling people that they were going to die did not make much sense, and was not particularly pastoral or even kind. 

I understand those objections, and I even agree, somewhat.

But, since I like to try stuff, back in my former church in Jersey City, we did indeed offer “Ashes to Go.”

During both the morning and evening rush hours, a hearty little band of us would set up shop at a busy bus stop a few blocks from church.

I have to tell you, it was usually so cold and windy.

And as we stood there, offering ashes and a prayer card, people reacted in different ways.

Some people refused to make eye contact with us and others rolled their eyes at us.

Many people paid us no mind at all.  

But, lots of people did stop and come up to us.

Some just out of curiosity, while others were grateful that they had this opportunity at the start or end of a busy day.

Sometimes they remembered us from previous years, like the two women who spotted us from across the street and ran across five or six busy lanes of traffic, just to get their ashes.

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

Some people would hear those words and receive the ashes on their forehead and they would tear up and whisper words of gratitude, or “God bless you.”

Sometimes people would give a broad smile and be on their way.

To my surprise, even without everything that we say and do in church on this day, for these people it was a holy moment to be reminded that someday they would be dust. 

Somehow, the ashes were ashes of grace.

How is this possible?

Well, you know, I’ve already officiated at many committals in our cemetery. And in most cases the deceased loved one has been cremated. And every single time, family members have held those cremains with so much love and tenderness.

Of course, right?

And, if that’s how we care for the ashes of those we love, how much more will God care for our dust?

That’s the grace of Ash Wednesday.

That’s the grace that the people at the busy bus stop somehow received and recognized.

And that’s the grace that I hope we will receive and recognize here today, and all throughout Lent, as we journey with Jesus to the cross and finally to the empty tomb.

As the Prophet Joel wrote long ago, God is gracious and merciful, always calling us back.

And so these ashes of grace are a reminder that God will never forget us, God will never let go of us, even when it looks like all hope is lost, even when all that seems to remain is dust.

Amen.