Ash Wednesday

It all comes down to this then: Whether it is in a place that has been begged, borrowed, or bought we are all going to eventually lie down and experience the long silence.

Ash Wednesday is upon us, that once a year moment of reflection when the Christian Church begs us to remember that we will all eventually die. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust” as the graveside mantra reminds us.

I find comfort in the experience of immersing my thumb in the ashes of last year’s palm branches and swiping a chiasmus on the foreheads of the faithful. Each year they line up with looks of expectation and penitence co-mingled as the sacred smudge is administered. Some, afterwards, exhibit signs of the burdens of life being lifted; a slight straightening of the shoulders, a decrease in the number of furrows etched in their brows.

These are the high holy moments of worship when a tangible experience of touch becomes sacrosanct. Our dying is acknowledged and the possibilities for life remembered.