25
February 2009 St. Athanasius Lutheran Church
Ash
Wednesday Vienna, VA
“A Wounded Saviour for a Wounded
People”
Text: Joel 2:12-19; 2 Corinthians 5:20b - 6:10; Matthew
6:1-6, 16-21
I hate
Ash Wednesday.
I hate
the ashes.
I hate
having them on my forehead and can’t wait to wash them off.
I hate
putting them on you.
I hate
putting them on my wife and children.
I hate
the death they represent.
I hate
thinking that should God keep me here very long, I’m going to bury many of you.
I hate
Ash Wednesday.
Which
is, I think, as it should be.
We
shouldn’t like
sin, or the consequences of sin, or the empty promises of sin, or the
separation caused by sin, or the hurt caused by sin, or the death caused by
sin.
Sin and
death are not our friends.
The
pleasures of sin are small and fleeting - yet its consequence, for us, final.
Death
reduces us to what we were never meant to be.
From
dust we were created; we were not meant to return to it.
God
created us for life; sin robs us of that life.
And it
is an equal opportunity thief.
Babies
die, children die, teens die, young adults die, the middle aged die, the
elderly die.
The rich
die and the poor die. The strong die and the weak die. The smart die and the
foolish die.
Sometimes
death comes suddenly, sometimes it is excruciatingly slow and painful.
But it
is always sad - at least for us.
But our
tears, our hurt, our misery, make satan rejoice.
We
should hate Ash Wednesday, because it is about death; it is about our defeat;
it is about our failure.
But that’s not all Ash
Wednesday is about.
It is
also about the fact that into the midst of our death, our defeat, our sin, our
misery and our failure, came Life again.
A
Saviour - someone who saves.
A
Saviour to be wounded for a wounded people,
that by His wounds we be healed. (1 Peter
2:24)
A
Saviour who wore not a mere smudge of ashes on His forehead, but a crown of
thorns and shame and suffering.
A
Saviour to rob the robber of his bounty, and give us back the life that we
lost.
A Saviour
to pay the price for our sin, to become sin for us that we might become
the righteousness of God. (2
Corinthians 5:21)
A
Saviour to become one with us, that we might be one with Him.
A
Saviour who would overcome in His own body the separation of God and man
caused by sin, and reconcile us to our Father and our Father to us.
A
Saviour to transform death with His own death, that death be not the end for us
- but now the gate to eternal life. (Psalm
118)
A
Saviour promised by God, foreseen by prophets, sung of by angels, touched by
sinners, crucified by a Roman governor, and who now in His resurrection from
the dead lives and reigns to all eternity.
Who
lives and reigns not to condemn the world (John
3:17), but to forgive our sins, give us
life, nourish us with His own body and blood, and make us sons of God.
He is a
Saviour who hates death even more than we do.
And so
who not just tonight, but especially tonight, calls us to return
to Him.
Not just
to turn from our sin - to give up a tasty treat or a guilty pleasure for
a time.
That’s not bad. The words of our Lord we
heard tonight assume we will fast.
When you fast, He says
(Matthew 6:16). Not if.
But that
is only part - and a very small part.
Moreso
tonight is the call not to give up- to turn from - but to return, to
turn to.
“Return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and
merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” (Joel 2:13)
Turn to
Him.
Turn in
repentance, to receive His forgiveness.
Turn in
the midst of dying, to receive His life.
Turn,
for He wants not only your obedience - He wants you.
Outside
these walls, we are taught to deny our sin. It’s not so bad. If it feels good, do it. If it feels good, it
must be good.
Outside
these walls, we are afraid to be weak. We deny our wounds. We put on a good
show.
Outside
these walls, there is much I can get away with.
But your
Father in heaven sees what you do in secret.
The
thought of your minds, the desires of your hearts, that which no one else sees,
He sees.
But He
sees also the wounds. Your wounds.
The
wounds that cut so deeply.
The
wounds that hurt so much.
The
pains, the fears, the doubts, the troubles, the grief.
He sees,
and He knows, and He has mercy.
For you
do not have a Saviour who doesn’t know what you’re going through, but who has been through it all.
A
wounded Saviour for a wounded people, to
bind up our wounds, to heal us, and to restore us.
A
Saviour to whom we cry tonight not with excuses - but simply: Lord, have
mercy.
For
mercy is the very thing He has come to do.
For He
knew that on our own we could not come to Him, return to Him, or find Him; so
He came to us, returned to us, and found us.
And
tonight, especially tonight, He calls out for us to return.
To Him.
That we
not lay up for ourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy
and thieves break in and steal. (Matthew
6:19)
That we
not make up for ourselves a life on earth, and think we’ve got something good going on here.
That we
not deceive ourselves and settle for what we can do.
But that
we receive from Him what we do not have, what no one else can give, and which
is found in no one and no place else - life.
Life
now, and life eternal.
Life
with meaning and purpose.
And so
tonight the smudge of ashes on your forehead is in the shape of the cross.
Because
there was our Saviour wounded for us.
There
was our salvation accomplished.
There
the serpent who overcame by a tree was overcome by a tree.
There,
more than anywhere else, you see the love of God for you in the face of Jesus
Christ.
So hate
those ashes, but don’t hate
the day.
Hate the
ashes, and go home and wash them off, and remember your Baptism which washed
your sins away.
Your
Baptism, when the love of God in the face of Jesus Christ shone on you, and was
poured over you, and gave you life.
Life
again.
Life
from the dead.
Life
eternal.
Which is
what this night is all about.
In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.