From Where I Sit                        Judith Lynch (writing from Melbourne)                            Judith's website

February 25, 2012                      Sitting in the Ashes                Judith's previous articles  

1^st Sunday of Lent – Year B  

There’s a good reason, if maybe an uncomfortable one, for Lent to start with ashes. In virtually every culture there is somewhere a concept of withdrawing to sit in the ashes for some time out, yearning for some deep joy or fulfillment. You remember the story of Cinder-ella. Before she got to dance with the prince she spent quite a time sitting in the ashes.  

This is the theology of Lent – before we can be transformed, we have to sit in the ashes.  We don’t really need to do anything – just sit and recognise what have been the good times, the life-giving events, the experiences or words that now make us cringe, the times when we’ve cried. We will probably realize that despite all our good intentions about praying more and not letting the knocks and bruises of relationships get under our skin, we still prioritize God way down the list of our ordinary time..  

Instead of ashes, the Gospel writers use the image of a desert or wilderness place to talk about this “time out for God”. If we were to withdraw to a wilderness area such as the Victorian Mallee with just a small tent, water and dried food, we would feel very vulnerable. With no radio or TV or people to fill up the silence we might just have to face up to some of life’s questions – big and small.  

That’s what Jesus did when he went into the desert. Every time he withdrew alone to a quiet place it was to take stock, to recognise the temptations he faced, to connect with God, before picking up the ordinary of his life as an itinerant preacher at the head of a small band of disciples.  

It takes courage for us to identify, and then name a person, place or experience that feels like a wilderness. Intimate marital and family relationships can feel as dry and uninteresting as an unwatered garden, painful memories leave their imprint deep in our souls, a lifetime of unappreciated work can leave one burnt out without the time or inclination to reach out to others.  

 Mark talks about Jesus being there with “wild animals”, an apt description for the events and circumstances that hurt and frighten. In the same sentence he says that “angels looked after him”. That was how Jesus prayed – he stayed with the struggle of the wilderness and left strengthened and in peace.  

In the wilderness or the desert there are no places to hide. So when we pray from our personal place of struggle, all we need to do is simply and honestly say how it is and stop telling God how to fix it. If we trust God, then even though our hurts, fears and struggles may still be there, we will not be alone. Inside each of us, maybe buried in ashes or lost in a wilderness, is the deep knowing that we are loved by God, if only we could believe it.