Finding the meaning of Ash Wednesday in a darkened movie theater

Jamie, you seem to find conflict in everything around you. Are you certain that the conflict isn't within you? Matt Fox is still a practicing Episcopalian priest, still imposes and accepts ashes, after all he's been through. Many, many of us have gone through the desert, but most of us have found our way. I think it's dangerous to insist on remaining in the desert. Ash Wednesday is a recognition of our human frailty, not an endorsement of the church. There is great wisdom in the time-honored teaching about "ex opere operato" -- our life of grace does not depend on the worthiness of the minister. Please don't deny yourself the richness of our traditions just because you have differences with the official church. My second son was gunned down in a drive-by shooting. I grieve for him every day, but I don't withdraw from society for not protecting our youth. We always need to ask ourselves what our protests accomplish, and if all they do is make us feel righteous, maybe it's time to give them up.

CHIN UP, JAMIE ............... Thanks, Jamie, for that edifying and moving story. You are surely entitled to be weary, given the tremendous and fruitful efforts you have been making in pursuit of Jesus' call for justice for all.

I used to get my ashes in the Shrine of Mother Seton that you passed in lower Manhattan. It is hard to believe a married woman with children got her own shrine. Of course, she owned the house in which the Shrine was built. Next door was the home of Herman Melville, author of the classic , but dark, Moby Dick.

God is busting out all over in Manhattan, including in movie theaters as you well note.

Please be assured that your courageous example is inspiring many, including me.

For recent developments to protect the rights of women and gays from the US bishops' latest misguided crusade, please read today's NCR comment, with relevant cross-links, entiltled, "Bishops' Incompetence", readily accessible by clicking on at:

http://ncronine.org/blogs/distinctly-catholic/some-see-bishops-danger-ov...

"there are no limits on the words, images and symbols that God can use to communicate with us". Thanks for that closing statement because it resonates deeply with my own experiences and has focused me for this Lenten season. Don't stop speaking out for the issues you listed...birth control, gay marriage, women's role in the church, and other sexual and women's issues. There are many of us who agree with you, who can't say it as well as you do and most of us don't have a platform from which to speak. I can well imagine how exhausting it is for you to be the voice for us, all of us both men and women. I try to speak out on these issues to my own friends, neighbors and family and know the toll that it takes. What keeps me going is the memory of my mother's difficult life. Great article !!

You have managed to salvage one part of The Descendants ... The thing is, that's not it... there's more to come. The difference the faith dimension can make in life.

thank you for all you share with us.
i hope that george clooney gets to read your words about the movie.

in our downtown, the episcopals and other clergy had an "ashes to go" they went to the bus terminal and other gathering spaces downtown.

Our rituals even our "religious" ones and most importantly our faith rituals have meaning becuase we give them meaning and yet in the very act of observing and participating in them such meaning can be independent of our intellect and or reason. God is not on an ecclesiastical leash nor is he bound by our understanding or comprehension and if God chooses to use the art of film to bring home the transitory nature of this pilgrimage we call life then embrace such a choice. Never let the institution rob you of your spiritual heritage once delivered to the saints no matter what it says or does. When it comes to bishops and such just remember that Jesus Christ is the Shepherd and clergy are just sheep dogs. After all it was the religious establishment of Jesu day that crucified him and they are still at it but the Tomb is Empty no matter how much they try and fill it!

Hi Jamie. Thank you for your insightful and heartfelt article. After reading it, I felt like we were in the same place, although opposite coasts. I, too, had planned on engaging in the Ash Wednesday rituals, but couldn't get myself there. Between the ever-ongoing pedophilia crimes and their cover-ups and the continual suppression of women - whether it is from leadership roles or basic gender attributes ( or presumed such), I, too, have felt burned by the church. And yet - we are the church - I keep telling myself.

I'll keep hanging in there - and I'll keep raising the issues. I trust you will, too.

Our God does bless you.

To get bone-weary with INSTITUTIONAL Church---just remember--it's a SUB SET 0f THE CHURCH.

To Jamie and those who enjoyed your article (as did I): As so often is the case, the novel of the same name upon which the movie is based, by Kauai Hart Hemmings, has so many nuances that the visual presentation misses, especially the King family's dealing with the coma and eventual death of the wife and mother. And also about the imperfection of human nature and how maintaining love for one another despite our shortcomings helps us face crises with patience and courage and grace. I highly recommend the novel to one and all, whether you see the movie or not.

Brilliant column, Jamie. You're a wonder. I can certainly identify with the way you're feeling. Thank you for putting it so eloquently. Keep up the good fight! I'm happy to share the same pew with you. Peace and every blessing!

Thank you, Jamie, for your steadfast work on behalf of women (which means of course, also of men).

There are times when we personally are out of sync with the liturgical year. That's OK. Jesus promised, "I will be with you to the end of the age," without any mention of the year cycle Christians have since developed.

Thank you, Jamie, for sharing your feelings about the hierarchy and women's issues. I am a catholic and struggling with the fact that my church is judging people unfairly while overlooking their own failures.

Jamie,

Your columns are always so wonderful and well-thought out. I share your problems with the hierarchy of the Church, Here in the Detroit Area, many parishes are being clustered (again) because of the anticipated priest shortage. Yet, every Sunday I look around me and see many people, both married men and women, who would be great deacons and priests if only given a chance. Your column on Ash Wednesday was particularly poignant. Keep up the good work!

Father Mychal Judge, martyr of the Twin Towers, comes to mind with this passage:

"Minutes after I had concluded an afternoon service, two fully suited members of the New York Fire Department followed me across the sanctuary. They begged me for ashes, insisting that they had to get back to the firehouse in case there was a call. How could I argue with that?"

Please see for more the moving account by fellow chaplain at 9/11, the Reverend Father John Dear SJ in his hagiographic work, "You Will Be My Witnesses: Saints, Prophets, and Martyrs" where we read of Friar Mychal's rites of reconciliation with the fire fighters as well.

May such generous, loving sanctity return to our more beetle browed church.

Jamie I share your sentiments. I, too, took a pass on ash wednesday, not being able to bring myself, for many of your stated reasons, to participate. I have served as a minister in our church for over 50 years, and for the first time in my life, I feel theologically alienated from all that was important once. Perhaps the joy of Easter will give us all the hope
that we can rise above these disturbing times.

Ms. Manson: I agree with your column. You captured so well what I have been thinking and feeling for several years now. Like others that have replied all I would say is don't let the clerics get you down.

Thank you Jamie for your honest and thoughtful sharing.
For many,many,years now on "Ash "Wednesday I bless myself on the forehead with some scented oil...
The Gospel read at Mass on that day has Jesus tell us :
" ....Put oil on your head and wash your face..."
after a lifetime of being "ashed" it no longer corresponded where my faith journey had brought me.
Now I anoint the Body of Christ in me, as Jesus' body was anointed before his death and resurrection. ....

Thank you! Jamie I could not have said it better!! I gave up on this church --- I really feel good!!!!

Jamie, the reason you and I and others forget such things is because our lives have their authentic rhythm, their natural tide table, and these things rarely fit the Church liturgical calendar. As I was taught in Catholic elementary school, every day is Christmas, Easter, Lent, etc. And I find this very wise and appropriate for living; I therefore dislike hitching my little car to the big train on the tracks and riding along, because it is not really a very effective way to be holy.

Thank you Jamie for a beautifully written and insightful column. I too have decided not to seek ashes from the Church on Ash Wednesday for a variety of reasons. I no longer am into graveling, even though now we must proclaim: Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.” I don’t understand what is so important about going to Church to receive ashes from “father” or another minister. Why not make your own ashes from burnt palm, or take ashes from the fireplace? Sure, I know that the Church wants us to come together as a community to hear the Word of God at a liturgy, but if one cannot attend, why not “ash” one self? Why not keep a bowl of ashes handy throughout the season if wearing ashes on the forehead is so important? Also, what does it say of our Catholic faith that more folks come to “get” ashes than come to partake of the Eucharist?

Jamie: The absolute "rightness" of your thoughts brought tears to my eyes. I am rebelling, too; in fact, I clamped my lips tightly shut just this morning when instead of intoning "Lord have mercy" which usually reminds me that I need it, I had to sit through "Kyrie eleison", which meant no more to me today than it did when I was six. I think the Church leaders making a lot of these inane changes are actually forgetting the part of the Church sitting in the pews, saying words we do not want to say from the New Roman Missal, and then having to listen to Church "spokesmen tell the country what Catholics as a group are thinking! How do they know?
Back to the ashes, you found their significance in a darkened movie theater. I am finding them in several friends who are enduring debilitating illnesses and facing the possibility that they may not have much earthly future. But neither do any of us, come to think of it. The ashes are a good reminder.

I think this beautifully and very movingly written.

so, like, leaving the movies, did you go back to the Seton shrine, you know, for ashes, or what?

I love Chipotle sauce, but on vegan dishes, only, being as I am, you know, vegan.

What am I supposed to abstain from, on Ash Wednesday, and give up, for Lent.

Already gave up coffee and dairy and chocolate and the rest . . .

Give up chipotle stir fried mushrooms?
got to draw a line somewhere, like this writer says . . .

Jamie This is the first reply I have ever submitted-thank you for your profound honesty. You spoke what so many (men and women) are feeling with their hearts. You reminded me that we find our faith in the ordinariness of our lives. We so need women like you, do not ever forget that.

Ashes, the Search for What They Mean

As Eucharistic minister I have been involved over the years in the
distribution of ashes on Ash Wednesdays. Many people love the wearing
of ashes, it is very important to them. People not involved in Church
at all will show up for Ashes, this has special significance to them.
I have often wondered what this is all about. There must be a deeper
meaning for some people that I am not getting.

Lent for me has always been the Church’s annual retreat. The word
“lent” itself means “spring”. Ash is dirty, earthy and a good
fertilizer. But there is still more here for people than being signed
with Ash as a way to reflect on our lives in light of our last days.
Is it that people instinctively know that Ash is of the earth, and is
one of the most fertile substances on the planet? Ash from my
fireplace increases the pace of our growth of the plants in my yard.
However, does the ritual of being sealed with Ash have a deeper,
symbolic meaning? Is it the receiving of nutrients to increase the
pace of growth for one’s interior life?

Are people who come to Church for ashes, coming to be nurtured so they can grow spiritually? Are they vibrating as creatures to the ancient rhythms or the earth in spring? Do they know somehow that this is time to enrich the soil for new growth to occur within them? Is ash more about new life for some people than a reflection on death? Is this why they come to Church for
ashes? Perhaps ashes are more about our deepest longings to be reborn;
rather than, our need to repent for being human.

What a wonderful commentary! I found this very profound!
Truly beautiful!!!!

I also struggle with Ash Wednesday. The church is crowded in a way usually reserved for Christmas and Easter Sunday. I don't _get it_. After all, Ash Wednesday is fairly empty if you don't make it begin something and end with Easter.

But leave it to the symbols embraced by the church to accidentally? purposefully? serendipitously? pull us back in. Like the experience with the movie.

Jamie, I'm feeling ravaged by the church right now. And I'm not alone. But it's a lonely experience. Isolating. Isolated within the church as someone who speaks up. Isolated without because people really don't understand why you stay.

The fact that you, Jamie, and others stay means a lot to those of us within that are marginalized. It gives me hope. Makes me feel less alone. Makes me feel some optimism about the future.

Maybe this is a little like 40 days in the desert. Alone with thoughts and doubts and convictions. But I know, because I've done it; I've sat in the sand and sifted through the sand grains of the contraception issue and many others and I keep coming back to a similar stance.

It's not easy to be the minority voice.

And it's not easy to be among (and as I say it, may God forgive me) the Ash Wednesday groupies. But the real Lent is in the desert.

You never know who you might meet there.

Lent is not an easy time for any of us. It is never easy to look one's mortality in the face, as one does when one receives ashes. It is never easy to confront one's sinfulness as one does during Lent. Yet it is absolutely necessary for our salvation.

There is such a thing as sin. Sin is real. Sin is me making the decision to prefer myself to Christ. It is the choice to do what I want to do, rather than what Christ wants me to do. It is the intentional turning away from the true, the good, and the beautiful, and turning toward the false, the evil, the ugly.

In our human minds, we seek desperately to justify our sinfulness. We point to the issue of contraception and say, "it's not about the beauty of sexual love between a man and a woman as an icon of the love of Christ for each of us". Instead we say "its about the Church 'betraying the rights of women'; blocking women from making decisions about their bodies".

Or we say, "why should I listen to a bunch of old men in dresses who protect abusive priests?", forgetting, as we do so, that even the Apostles denied and betrayed Jesus, yet He told us to listen to them; forgetting that Our Lord told His disciples to listen to the scribes and Pharisees, since they had "taken their seat upon the chair of Moses", even while He condemned them for their behavior -- He told His disciples to listen to what they say, but do not do as they do.

We claim that our consciences have primacy over Church teachings. Yet we forget that before this is true, we have the obligation to prayerfully and seriously consider the Church's teaching, discuss it with our priest, our nun, our spiritual director, etc. And we forget that, though the Church says that after all this has been done, if we cannot conform ourselves to the Church's teaching in good conscience, then we are free to follow our conscience, but that we will be called to account by our Lord at our particular judgments.

We claim that others are guilty of more serious sins than we are, that we are not that bad. We claim that our sins don't really harm anyone else. We claim that we are not sinners, or that sin does not exist, or that it is not possible to sin.

Yet, all these are excuses, and Lent is the time we turn away from our sin, we set aside our excuses, we acknowledge our sin, our utter and complete dependence on God, and our absolute need for the sacraments that are found in His Holy Church. Let us each, myself included, turn away from our sin and our excuses, and let us repent and be faithful to the Gospel.

thank you, jamie, it brought back memories of when i was in training as a
hospital chaplain at at large non-catholic hospital...on ash wed the
catholic chaplain asked me to assist with ashes....what a memory, they
came and they came...the poor, the mentally ill, the well, the nurses, the
docs, the old, the young, the babes in arms, etc....all, each touched in
their own soul's relationship with Mystery;...it also reminded me of the
article i just read(also in NCR on this day) about Barbara Johnson being
deprived of Our Lord at Communion during her mother's funeral mass at St. John Neumann's in Gaithersburg, MD....what a sad bit of behavior by a priest...did our Lord reject those who came to
Him?....it reminded me of misuse of power, so told by a jesuit priest who
said, "ah, you lock Jesus in the tabernacle and put the key in your
pocket?"...how can you lock Him up when someone comes to Him with a sad
heart and is turned away by someone who thinks he is more powerful in
judging another than God???? .. for give that priest, he knew not
what he did.....i would like your reflection on that sad story...dncrowley

Thank You for the article. It says what many of us feel. I awhile ago decided I was a catholic inspire of the bishops .

Jamie, I am very glad that the movie's ending touched you. But even that family's moment of grace would have been denied them by the Church. The Church says an urn of ashes needs to be put in a grave or crypt. The Bishops say that the scattering of ashes fails to respect or honor the remains. I think the family in the movie would disagree. After all, what do the words you heard when you received the ashes mean? Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return. Isn't dust blown in the wind?

Jamie, All I can add to another beautiful column is AMEN. You have a way of articulating what is also in my heart. Thank you, too, for reminding me again of Matthew Fox's Original Blessing. I also had the privilege of meeting you in person when you were in the Twin Cities (MN) speaking at a Call to Action seminar. I eagerly await your columns.

I love your authenticity, Jamie. Our lives are a movie. How beautiful that you found grace in a Times Square theater!

Jamie, your columns are always so thoughtful, hopeful, and inspiring. Same for the comments of people who respond on the NCR articles---even those with whom I disagree.

May God bless each and evey one of us and our families as we journey through this life on earth while we do justice, have mercy, and walk humbly with our God.

Dan Pickett

My husband
stood at our daughter, Caroline's,
niche,
and after interring
our darling's ashes,
declared,
"All right everyone,
Caroline says Let's party!"
Risen She Is.
Amen.

Caroline Marie Clare Michalski
June 22, 1986 - September 27, 2011

+

Thank you for being real, Jamie.

May I dare say, Jamie, you didn't forego the ashes. In some respects, perhaps you have integrated and incorporated the ashes of the years, bearing them on your soul. Obviously, you were haunted enough from some deep burning bush within to be keenly aware (and perhaps even more than if you had received them on your forehead) that something stirred you because of what you didn't do. Yes, they are a symbol not just of our finite lives but also of the fires we have endured, the fires of frustration, anger, hurt, loss and that ongoing awareness of death in so many events in our lives. As I started a fire in the woodstove this morning to fend off the cold, I stirred the ashes to find a few remnant embers of the night. I placed the kindling--those thin pieces that create a fast, hot flame much like all those hot button issues that are too often so shallow--on top of the embers and waited. Soon, the embers fueled by the blowing wind of an open door reignited what was laid upon them, and soon the fire grew steadily enough that larger pieces of wood would burn with soothing heat. The room would warm up and once again be that sanctuary where my life had purpose. Whether we wear them, stir them, or rail against them the ashes are deeply ingrained human and universal reminders of what has burned and maybe still burning in our hearts: the desire for the passionate, crucified and resurrected One, and our singular response to the summons he ignites within us.

Ash Wednesday is so much a state of mind/soul and not so much about the ritual. What you had to say resonated because this year I also had no interest in ashes. I spent Ash Wednesdy at New York-Prebyteryian where my wife had day surgery for melanoma behind her ear. (The doc said it looked fine - he believes he's got it all but she won't get the path results until next Thursday). I had absolutely no interest in attending a service but instead put some ashes in an envelope (I minister in my parish - I wasn't trespassing) and brought them home where my wife and I gave them to each other. I really didn't even want them for myself. The events of the day were enough to remind me of my mortality and I was too full of love and gratitude for my wife to waste my time worrying about my sinfulness.
I also didn't bother fasting or abstaining - and didn't feel guilty about it (I could hear Jesus say - "So I've picked wheat on the Sabbath; I've healed on the Sabbath - so what?").
Yet, I think it was the most memorable and most meaningful Ash Wednesday I've ever had. Sacramentals are all around us - we just need to be open to them.

I was deeply moved by this article! Jamie, your understanding of ashes as a symbol of our finiteness is right on target, and a genuine expression of Holy wisdom. The wisdom of accepting our finitness is the condition of our transformation. Because, realizing that we are not only finite (star) dust on the way out but also creative local sparks in motion... for the sake of the whole and for a better world.

Jaimey, I too was discouraged on Ash Wednesday and did not attend. I loved your narrative of the battalion appearing from behind the two firefighters. And their conviction that you,indeed, were their annointed go-to NYC Catholic. What a great New York story.

What pleased me at the end of Ash Wednesday was to see photos of the Episcopal clergy at the train stations administering ashes to morning commuters--a great instance of Christian ministers going to where the people are. I know we prefer people come to Church. Yet I loved the image of the sacred mindfulness and reverence breaking into the commuter rush and briefly resting/stopping those driven souls. My daughter lives in NYC. She always says, "New Yorkers are very pragmatic people. You don't want to get in their way or slow them down." And yet the trench-coated stopped and received.

I remain amazed and appalled by the bishops' treatment of Catholic and other women as minors. At times like these I recall Thomas Reese's observation some years ago that a Catholic Church which alienates its women has no future.

But also, at times like this, I remember the brilliant, wise women who have ministered to me over the years. I remember being invited, as a first-grader, to the convent in parochial school when my mother was having a baby. Sr. Pierre offered me green beans at the sisters' table and sat down with me. I was in total awe to be received at the sisters' table. Green beans have been sacramental to me ever since.

That image reminds me to retreat to the counsel and feminine speech of wise, devout women like Clarissa Pinkola Estes who live out a commitment to nurture and encouragement, gently, with enormous respect for both men and women. And my Catholic Lamaze teacher and the Catholic women who helped found La Leche League International and did more to return women to a life-giving, person-centered experience as parents who bonded with their children than any bishop anywhere. And the several awesome women who mentored me in social activism. And the Methodist women bishops who some years ago formed a small, subgroup of women bishops as "The Pause." Matronly and spiritually hefty they were, with a sense of humor. This from Bishop Judy Craig.

These days I recall the counsel of a Mormon feminist 25 years ago, Sonia Johnson, regarding Churchmen: "You can't do this for them. They will have to look inside and do their own changing." But I still do hand out copies of David Noble's book, A World Without Women. Why, I don't know. Oppressive, excluding behavior isn't rational. Rational historical or theological argument doesn't seem to impact it. Often the offending behavior is rooted in the oppressor's wounds.

Yet somehow the promise of the reign of God holds out hope for the liberation of both victims and oppressors. As they say in co-counseling, "Everybody has to get out from underneath this 'stuff', together and alive." They are secular, but I think they are closet mystics. Grace sustains us in the self-giving of artists, activists and actors, mother ocean, pilgrim journeys and visitations of wisdom. I pray tonight especially for your guidance and nurturance in the Spirit.

Bless you and your ministry!

Every time I read NCR, I'm reminded of a story my history professor at Ms. Manson's alma mater used to tell. It was after the official end of the War Between the States, and as the North began to establish its authority over the South, northern soldiers would continue to run across pockets of resistance months after the war’s end. It wasn’t that news traveled slowly in the 19th century; rather, there were soldiers who refused to surrender to actuality. And this is where we find the musty Catholic dissident, holed up in the proverbial darkened theater. The rebellion, which began in the 60s, ended there. The Catholic Church never changed, and it never will. The revolutionary will intermittently reengage only to be tapped on the shoulder by reality in a darkened movie theater on Ash Wednesday.