ASH WEDNESDAY

I will always associate Ash Wednesday with the Latin expression “Memento Homo.” In the days before Vatican Two, all the Catholic Church rituals were conducted in Latin so we heard the Lenten admonition in a language that very few understood: Memento homo quia pulvis es et in pulverem reverteris – Remember, man, that dust thou art and into dust you will return!

The Ash Wednesday ceremony deals with the most basic human reality – we are all mortal; we are only around for a short time. This is not particularly a Christian insight because dealing with the inevitability of death, finding some sustaining perspective on human mortality, is part of the challenge of every culture and religion.

Throughout history, moralists and preachers have correctly seen death as the great leveler. James Shirley, an English writer who lived at the end of the sixteenth century, wrote a very powerful poem entitled Death the Leveler, which I learned by heart in high school. It starts: The glories of our blood and state/ Are shadows not substantial things;/ There is no armour against fate;/ Death lays his icy hands on kings./ Sceptre and crown/Must tumble down,/And in the dust be equal made/ With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Modern Western culture is overwhelmingly materialistic. Money and the power that goes with it often lead to a state of near-denial of mortality. Happiness is tied to possessions, to the new car or boat, to the new home or homes that bring status and importance. There is surely a materialistic fallacy here because human contentment does not correlate with the amount of possessions we hold.

This is the big letdown of the modern acquisitive culture which often confuses our basic needs with our many “wants.” The Catholic ritual for Ash Wednesday reminds us of what, in a different context, a friend from Tyrone loved to call “the cold hard facts of life.” We are invited to see life from the perspective of eternity, to put aside the pomp and posturing, to drop our pretensions, to recognize the many masks we wear and to deal with the core issues of our humanity.

Penance is part of the Christian Lenten regimen. So, in my youth, a common question was “what are you giving up for Lent?” When I meet older Irish people who do not take sugar in their tea, I know that this has nothing to do with any anti-carb craze, but with a Lenten resolution from another era.

I gave up cigarettes once for Lent. I recall waiting patiently for Easter Sunday morning when I could again enjoy a drag from a Sweet Afton. I missed the “fags” so much for those forty days, that I never again attempted that Lenten penance, and, when I finally did quit, my decision was driven entirely by health considerations.

Giving-up the cigarettes or the booze for six weeks is a healthy practice that stresses the importance of self-control and builds character. However, in our present economic crisis, asking people who have lost their jobs and, maybe their homes to do without some luxury or other is a bit out-of-touch. So many people - and, especially, families, - are living on the edge that giving-up anything else is not on their agenda.

Many ethicists and preachers suggest that we should eschew the negative approach of doing without; instead, they say, the stress, during Lent, should be on performing charitable works. For instance, thousands of children die from starvation every day, a disgraceful and damning comment on our 21st century culture. The important challenge, from this perspective, surely is to work with and support such charities as CONCERN, GOAL or HOPe in their efforts to alleviate the terrible situation for children in Third-world countries.

I am reminded of the last lines in Shirley’s poem which stress this positive approach: Only the actions of the just/ Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust.