Sermon 2/17/2021 “Lenten Confessions”
Preacher: Jo J. Belser
Location: Church of the Resurrection at VTS in Alexandria, VA
Text: Matthew 6:1-6,16-21
Day: Ash Wednesday, All Years, during a pandemic
Listen up, Church of the Resurrection: I have a confession to make, an Ash Wednesday confession to make. And what better time is there to confess than on Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent, the season of self-examination and new beginnings?
The rubrics (the rules) about hearing someone’s Confessions say, “Confessions may be heard anytime and anywhere,” although a Confession by sermon is rare. So, will you hear my confession today?
Someone must, because Confession requires the presence of another: God always and one or more humans optionally—optimally—depending on the nature and severity of what one is confessing. God alone can and does forgive, but we humans often need another person to assure us of forgiveness because we just can’t comprehend, sometimes, how God could love us so much he could forgive the really, truly, terribly bad things we have done.
So, will YOU hear MY confession this day?
Here we are, together (or not) on another Ash Wednesday. But this is an Ash Day like no other we have experienced. Last year on Ash Wednesday—on February 26—the pandemic hadn’t reached us. Oh, the pandemic was among us; we just didn’t recognize the pandemic for another two weeks after Ash Wednesday last year. But NOW, we are hunkered down at home, most of us, staying safe (we hope) from a pandemic that has infected 108 million people so far around the world and killed 2.38 million people—almost 10,000 cases in our small city and over 100 deaths right here in Alexandria. This year, Death Day known as Ash Wednesday comes after a Year of Death.
Have you noticed how I am avoiding making my confession? Simply put, I’m afraid to confess. Until I realize that the consequences of NOT confessing, the consequences of NOT getting right with God, are worse than what I fear about baring my soul before you. If I DON’T CONFESS, I hold on to this mess I am keeping inside, where the mess would play havoc inside, would grow in the dark, and would begin to turn me away from God.
So, here goes: I just don’t LIKE the Ash Wednesday liturgy prescribed for us by our church. It’s long. It’s ponderous. It’s mired in death, and the only good thing about it for me is when it’s over I feel like I’ve escaped death, if only for a little while (or next Ash Wednesday, whichever comes sooner). The liturgy is designed to do that, to rub our noses in our mortality; I just don’t like it, especially in this year of death. I want to live to LIVE, not to avoid death.
My second confession about Ash Wednesday is like my first: I’ve noticed that most of you don’t like Ash Wednesday either, if your lack of attendance is any guide. I worry that my own dislike of this liturgy is somehow impeding your participation in it.
Oh, in my defense I’ve TRIED. I’ve taken what I believe to be the essence of this day, the core aspects of it, and raising those up in a short form I have called “Personal Ashes” and most of you have joined me in that or our “Alternative Ashes” or our “Premature Ashes” or our “Ashes to Go” or … in other forms of alternative liturgies for this day.
And what, do you recall, are the core aspects of Ash Wednesday?
- An invitation to participate in a holy season dedicated to self-reflection, repentance, and almsgiving.
- A reminder that we will each die one day; we know not when.
- Assurance of the health of living in right-relationship with God and each other.
- Acknowledgment that courage is required to repent.
- Comfort in undertaking these difficult tasks in community with others who are so engaged.
Here is the last part of my Ash Wednesday confession. I thought I might have a chance this year to overcome my dislike of the full-blown Ash Wednesday liturgy. I had a plan. We would do the whole liturgy today, together, as we are doing. And—I thought—because you have been mostly shut in for a whole year, you would be more likely to join me this day, if for no other reason than the novelty of getting to impose ashes on your own forehead, drawn to the fellowship that being together offers. Plus, the music is glorious, able to transport us out of even a pandemic.
I’ve noticed, by the way, that this confession sounds more like a justification than a confession. This will give me something to work on as I undertake my own Lenten tasks this year. So, let me Confess properly:
I confess to Almighty God, to his Church, and to you, that I have sinned by my own fault in thought, word, and deed, in things done and left undone; especially in my attitude toward the Ash Wednesday liturgy. For these and all other sins which I cannot now remember, I am truly sorry. I pray God to have mercy on me. I firmly intend amendment of life (and I hereby make a lifelong commitment to the full Ash Wednesday liturgy), and I humbly beg forgiveness of God and his Church, and ask you for counsel, direction, and assurance of forgiveness.
The prescribed answer for this prayer is this:
Our Lord Jesus Christ, who offered himself to be sacrificed for us to the Father, forgives our sins by the grace of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
—–
You may have noticed that, during this sermon, I have essentially modeled a Confession using the rite of The Reconciliation of a Penitent. I don’t truly despise the Ash Wednesday liturgy—it isn’t my favorite observance, but I need it each year just like I occasionally need medicine. And, if you are unfamiliar with the rite of Reconciliation, which is available to you any time by appointment, you can check it out on pages 447-452 in our Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. The content of your Confession and even that you availed yourself of this rite, would be held privately between us forever.
In whatever way you observe Lent this year, though, I invite you to make it a holy one, full of self-examination and new beginnings. We do not have to remain the way we are now forever; life-giving change is available to all.
I speak from experience, and in the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen!
