February 13: Ashes to Ashes

Tonight, I will be at the Ash Wednesday service at church.  The praise band is playing, and the ashes and oil are probably being mixed as I type this post.

I may be the only person on the planet who enjoys Ash Wednesday.  Most Christians probably wake up thinking, "God, is it Lent already?"  I love the solemnity of the night, the ritual of lining up and having ashes smudged on my forehead in the shape of a cross.  The Scriptures and prayers.  The invocation of penance and preparation.  If I lived in the Middle Ages, I probably would have worn burlap and ate grasshoppers.  Lightly toasted with butter and sugar and cinnamon.

My faith has always informed other parts of my life.  It's always informed my writing.  I love the cyclical nature of the Church year, moving from the Nativity narrative to the Passion and resurrection.  From birth to death to redemption and salvation.  While Lent is a darker period of waiting, it fills me with a sense of hope, just like Advent.

So, yes, I'm excited for tonight's worship service.  It will be beautiful, full of moments of silence and celebration.

Saint Marty will be in the front pew, making an ash of himself.

I hear they taste just like chicken