Ash Wednesday
“Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.
So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:1-6/16-21).
In the days leading up to Lent I have taken up the practice of silent prayer, again, in the mornings reaching the depths only read about, seeing thoughts roll by like ships on the surface of the water that one was just treading. Here, we can see just how much we were tangled up in the ropes, anchors, and barnacles of these ships that roll right along without us interfering with them. Those thoughts that only a moment ago had so much weight and texture passing my conscious awareness like a breeze. In this state I can recognize them for what they are, and as much as it pains me, I can see just how much they control me, how my engagement with them, the constant loops of fantasy and memory, blending together in a perfect tonic of inflamed passion.
They control me.
I can see how I cling to these repetitive, obsessive thoughts like they were life preservers in the waters that I am treading instead of submerging myself into; why would I seek the rhythm of the heart when I can be bounced from wave to wave and resent (enjoy) every second of it? I can see how I am led by my passions, my anger, and how easy it is for me to create my own hell. I can also see how much I relish that.
How to break the surface tension and let go? How does one descend into the deeps of the self? It is odd that we either embrace the depths of our soul or we end up drowning to keep our stories together, keep our resentments… Ultimately, we end up drowning because of our pride.
Pride manifests in different ways in different people: mine is through Anger. I know it is killing me and I know Pride is its root cause, but what can any of us do about our Pride?
I need help overcoming this Pride, the worst of the worst of the passions; Pride makes angels fall and gives rise to the demonic, to the devil, to hell itself. How, though?
Lord, God, help me overcome this lack of humility. I want to give up Pride for Lent and then for my whole life after; I can feel how disconnected I am from others, on the basis of some sense of morality or frustration with the human condition, with human weakness. Unable to look at my own, I condescend to others and take violent pity against those who fall into iniquity, who fall into temptation, who fall at all. All the while I cannot see that I am the first who has fallen, like the devil himself, writhing on the ground and wailing about equity and how others ought to act.
It is funny, that in those moments we either see ourselves like in a mirror, how childish we are being and from there have the choice to pick ourselves up, with God’s help, and keep going or double down in the dirt, returning to the dust and being overtaken by it.
That passion of Pride, sinking its roots deep inside, like a noxious tree soaking up the nutrients from the surrounding vegetation and foliage. I am not a person. I am less than a person. I am like the beats of the field. I am like a pack of wild dogs and like a devil, not even as high as a man. I am a worm. I am deplorable. I am disgusting. I am puffed up with pride, suffocated by the thorns growing around the lilies of my soul. I need a doctor who comes in the Name of the Lord.
God, please send me some help!
I am the problem. I am hurt and infected by the world and that pain buries itself into the subconscious and from there, repressed as it is, takes firm hold over me. I am not a dove, but a serpent, neither gentles nor wise, but a false amalgamation of self. I do everything for me, even prostrations I do out of vanity. The way I worship; the way I fast. Truly, I am a Pharisee.
I consume and consume and consume then I have the gall to stick my nose up at others for doing the same. I hate who I am in others. I hate who I am in you. And maybe I hate the God forgives you just the same as He forgives me.
Why, God, do I have to be like this?
I say I do not want to be like this, but then I act this way and find pleasure in acting this way. I know it is not good; I know it is killing me, but I do it anyway. I do it because, maybe, I want to die. Maybe it is because I am dust and dust begets more dust, only knowing how to beget dust. Dust cannot create life, cannot do good.
Any good that I have done is truly by the grace of God. Truly, I can do no good by myself. Truly, I am no good.
If I was on the Cross with Christ, I certainly would be just like the rest of the crowd calling for Him to prove Himself to us and save Himself and me.
I wonder how different it would be if I, along with the crowd, only just witnessed His death… Took it in, fully. How different could we be if I let His Crucifixion affect me?
If we let His crucifixion infect us?
How different would the world look if we let the Cross, the very Tree of Life, take root in our hearts instead of Pride? That tree we all know as the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
The Gospel account shows us Christ, Who has taken Israel into Himself, and redeems the world. Every act, every moment of His life redeems us.
Even His very death grants us Life.
It pains me being so weak that, without hesitation, I bend the knee to Satan in the desert for the reward of half-smiles from half-friends who half-care on a good day. This is the promise of the world, by the way; the promise of the world that is the devil’s to offer is being looked at by people who don’t care, anyway, and for only a limited time before they are on to something else. The devil promises death by promising life with his fingers crossed. Our natural condition of dust promises death, but Christ is the only one Who promises that He “the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6). No one else has promised that or claims to.
What the devil offers is enticing, because Pride cannot bear the reality of God; Pride is actively seeking death, leading us into the desert to give in to temptations and die of thirst. Christ though, promises that “The water that [He] will give will become in [us] a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (John 4:14).
Life is sought through Christ and, paradoxically, it means laying our life down for His sake: resisting temptation, suffering our inclination toward the passions, but still resisting. Resisting engagement with the tapes in our mind, the fantasies, the memories, and dancing with resentment. Resist. Resist. Resist.
“Only struggle a little more. Carry your cross without complaining. Don’t think you are anything special. Don’t justify your sins and weaknesses but see yourself as you really are. And, especially, love one another” (Fr. Seraphim Rose).
Oh God, how You know I like to complain.
But… But…
Just carry your cross a little further without a fuss.
This Ash Wednesday is a reminder to myself that I choose to be Christian, which means that I choose to carry my cross, which means that I choose to focus my attention on Christ and Christ alone.
Christ did not justify His cross nor should we. The way in which we help others carry their cross is to carry ours like our Lord. Even unto death.
I would love it if I could shed myself of Pride for Lent and then forever after, but I believe that while we are here, far from our heavenly home, neither Life nor death is guaranteed, but as we recognize with Christ on the Cross there is one guarantee: that we are going to be tempted until our dying breath, we will be tempted to show our strength, our intelligence, our beauty: our Pride.
We will be tempted to revel in our own glory until we stand before the judgement seat of Christ. That is a guarantee.
Let us not forget that any strength, any intelligence, any beauty that we hold is a gift from God. Any time we have here is a gift, every moment, every second.
We are completely dependent on God, so let’s not think we are anything special.
“So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain. For he says,
‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you,
and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’
See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation! We are putting no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labours, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; in honour and dishonour, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Corinthians 5:20-6:10).
I pray that God grants us the quiet confidence and longsuffering patience to endure this Lenten Spring and the sufferings of this present age. May we choose to be ambassadors, everyday we make the choice of dying to ourselves because of our hope in the Life of the world to come; may we love our neighbor and hate sin, hate our passions, and hate the devils that tempt us.
May we carry our cross into the quiet desert long enough for the devil to reveal himself, that we might see with new eyes how we’ve been tempted by fantasy, memory, and pride all this time. May we, with renewed clarity, see ourselves for who we really are and meet temptation by clinging desperately to our cross, to die to ourselves and our passions.
We are not so special. Being full of Pride is not original. Flying off the handle in a fit of rage and resentment is not out of the ordinary. But, seeing yourself for who you really are is a miracle that is akin to raising the dead, so let us be raised with Christ Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
Remember that we are dust and to dust we shall return. And through Christ, this dust has hope, and in hope we have reason to exclaim the words of the Apostle, Thomas, “let us all go, that we may die with Him” (John 11:16) as we journey into the silent land of Lent.
“Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made, and you forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”
Si comprehendis, non est Deus
Witness, NM 