Matthew 6:1-6, 16-19
Ash Wednesday
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-19
“Excuse Me, but There’s a Black Cross on Your Forehead”
In the Gospel text for Ash Wednesday, Jesus warns us not to be like hypocrites
when it comes to our acts of faith. We identify a hypocrite as someone who says
one thing, but does another. In Jesus time, the word had a slightly different
meaning—a hypocrite was a performer on the stage—someone who was playing a part,
or pretending to be something he was not.
Pretending to be someone we are not works
well for the comedy and the tragedy of the theatre. It does not work well,
however, as we seek to live our lives. And it is a particular problem when as
people of faith, we pretend to be something we are not.
In today’s gospel, Jesus deals at length
with this problem. Jesus is concerned when so-called hypocrites take
disciplines intended to deepen our walk with God, things such as prayer, almsgiving and fasting, and use
them to promote ourselves as spiritually superior.
There are two separate tragedies occur
when we do this. First, we empty ourselves of genuine character and take on the
role of spiritual pretenders. Whether we are trying to impress the crowd or
earn some position in the community, the result is the same. The practice of
pretending to be something we are not empties us of any real character. We
exist only as pretenders--play actors--or, to use Jesus’ word, hypocrites.
The other tragedy has to do with the
disciplines themselves. The practices of prayer, almsgiving and fasting are all
legitimate and effective ways for cultivating depth in our lives as believers.
Using them to advance our own standing empties the disciplines of their power
to transform us and the world in which we live.
This
is readily understandable with the practice of almsgiving. The effect of
hypocrisy on almsgiving is far greater than with the other two disciplines
combined. That’s because the fate of two souls is at stake.
The first soul at stake, of course, is the
one doing the giving. The scene Jesus describes could have taken place in the
temple where vessels were set up to receive offerings for the poor or out in
the street in direct contact with beggars. In both cases, Jesus warns that when
we call attention to ourselves in the act of giving to others, whatever good
may have come from the act is lost. The only benefit to be derived from such a
self-serving act is whatever momentary applause the watching crowd might offer.
An act of almsgiving in which the main
purpose is to draw attention to the self can only be described as heartless. But
when the poverty and misery of other people is brought into the service of a
selfish ego, we see how damaging this kind of self-serving giving can be.
This is where we encounter the second
soul. The person who is used to make the giver feel good about themselves can
only feel exactly that way--used. They may take whatever alms are offered;
their lives are too desperate not to. But the damage done to their sense of
humanity and dignity is shameful. No wonder Jesus decried such practices and
taught his disciples to respect the dignity of those they might help. He might just
as well have said: “Don’t even let your left hand know who the right hand has helped.”
The
same is true of prayer. The same craving for attention that might lead a
person to make a show of almsgiving can also turn prayer into a spectacle.
Jesus describes a scene in which a hypocrite stands on a busy street corner at
the hour of prayer and intones his petitions for all to hear. The irony,
according to Jesus, is that everyone hears, except God.
Our culture struggles mightily with this
misunderstanding of prayer. Public prayer is valued by many as a way to “show”
our faith. While this is not exactly the same motivation Jesus is concerned
about, the result is the same. If our prayers are directed toward those around
us, rather than to God, they are no longer prayers.
To avoid this, Jesus urges us to take our
prayers to a secluded place and there pray to God. Without the distracting
presence of the crowd it becomes easier for us to focus our attention on the
one to whom our prayers should be directed. With the temptation for
self-advancement removed, we are able to humble ourselves in God’s presence.
Shut away in a private place we can pursue the silence in which God is often
found. That, after all, is the real purpose of prayer--to establish a
connection with God.
The third discipline Jesus calls upon to
make his point is fasting. Jesus was aware of those who staged regular fasts, and so altered
their appearance as to make sure everyone knew they were fasting. The idea here
is to establish spiritual credentials by demonstrating how much we are willing
to suffer for God--even self-inflicted suffering. Consider this as you proudly
tell others what you are “giving up” for Lent.
Jesus does not deny the validity of the
fast as a spiritual discipline, but he does question the way it was practiced
in his day. Jesus told his disciples that when they fast, nobody should even
know they are doing it. The self-denial of the fast should be dedicated to God
and focused on deepening our walk with God, not earning the admiration of our
neighbors.
So what about that big black cross on your forehead?
After
all, what have we done but adorned ourselves with a visible symbol of our
faith? Isn’t there a danger that our ashen foreheads will become self-serving?
Aren’t we, with our marks of the cross, showing off our faith? How can we
maintain the tradition of Ash Wednesday without becoming guilty of the
attitudes about which Jesus warned?
The answer to those questions lie in the
answer to this question: Why are we
wearing the mark of the cross on our foreheads?
Though we may try to keep our right hand
from knowing what our left hand is doing, it isn’t always possible to maintain
that kind of secrecy. It is possible, however, to always be concerned for the
dignity of those we try to help. We can love them and make sure they are never
a means to an end.
And even if we go to our prayer closet
before we pray, the very act of separating ourselves from the world can become
a signal that we have gone to pray. We can’t be sure that no one will know what
we are doing. But we can be sure that our focus is on God, and it is to God
that we talk when we pray.
Obviously, we cannot hide our ashen cross
- it is designed to be seen. But on what kind of life is this black cross
displayed? If we are in the habit of calling attention to our spiritual selves,
it will be seen as just another way to prove our self- righteousness.
But if our lives are marked by simplicity, compassion and caring, the cross on our foreheads will be a gentle reminder to those who know us that we are dedicated to the cause of the one who died on a cross.
For after all, that black cross on our
forehead is not about us at all, but entirely about Jesus, whose life and death
was for others. AMEN