Imposition

Well, I did it again. In the ancient language it is called "the imposition" of ashes. The faithful, or those who are trying to be, line up and come down to the altar to be "imposed."

It is an interesting word. "I hate to be such an imposition but...." "I know to show up like this is an imposition but..." To impose means to intrude or to lay on somebody what they would rather you not lay on.

So what is this imposition of ashes stuff? Does anyone really want to hear, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return?" No wonder it is called imposition.

But every year this "interruption" happens in order to get our attention. I mean if reminding someone that they are made of the same stuff we kick up under our feet each day does not get your attention then we really are numb.

The truth is if you are at all like me I do not much want God to impose much of anything on me. I have my agenda and my schedule. Not to worry, I'll work God in...when there's time...and space...and well money. But see that is the problem. We work God in...in between.

So each year those ancient words from Joel are read, "Sound the alarm, declare a fast, rip out your hearts and quit tearing up garments like so much religious ritual that you keep doing." It seems that God wants to be up front not in between or worked in. So we hear another old word, "Repent, and believe the Gospel."

Repent means to turn around. This year I used the image of those "spikes" that rise up from the pavement in some parking garages or lots where rental cars are dispersed. If you go the right way over them they fold down nicely and you drive on. If, however, you attempt to sneak out the entrance without "paying" those spikes stay firmly in place and puncture your tires. Go the wrong way and you "will" pay.

Repent means to stop, look, and listen to see if we are going the wrong way. For most of us to stop, look, and listen is an "imposition" but it looks like we need it.

So ashes are imposed on our foreheads so that we can "see" that mark of the cross. A little girl in our church asked her mother to guess what the little girl's favorite letter of the alphabet was. Mom started the guessing with "s" because that was the first letter of her daughter's name. "No mom, its 't'". "Why 't', asked her mystified mother? "'t' stands for church, mom. That is the place where I know that God loves me and the place I hear about Jesus." "But where do you get 't' in church honey?" "You know it's up there on the table...a big "T."

So this child of God sees what we grown-ups fail to see. That is why we need an imposition. We need our lives interrupted so that we can kneel and have a "big T" put on our foreheads to remind us that we are very special dust.

Each year I write a poem for Ash Wednesday. Here's this years "imposition."

A Dusty Pause

Say it no more
that I am dust
For I have knowledge
that I am more
not less

Accumulated are my
trophies of living well
And your words attempt
to burn away
my earnings

Is not life more than
food and bank accounts
But then that is fair
sounding poetry
for I know better

I am known by my titles
and my possessions
They grant me the identity
that I wear
like a coat

But you tell me it and
me are still dust
Waiting to discover
that in the end
there's no escape

So mark me with the
ashes and the cross
And I shall pause and
remember the
finality of love

Sound whatever alarm
will cease my wandering
For it all ends in dust
and only your breath
remains-
A promise of new life
for the dust

Bless you
jody