Die. Rise. Repeat.


Daily Stoic

Propers: Ash Wednesday, A.D. 2020 A

Homily:

Lord, we pray for the preacher, for You know his sins are great.

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Memento mori. “Remember death.” Remember that you must die.

Why this night do we smear ashes on our brows and on the brows of our children? It is a biblical image, yes, repenting in sackcloth and ash. It signifies our sorrow for sin; our desire to turn back to God; to turn away from all which would draw us from God, that ancient unholy trinity of the devil, the world, and the flesh. But it is also a memento mori—a reminder that thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust: the very words I have spoken countless times as I’ve scattered soil and sand on the lids of so many coffins.

Lent is a season of death, and therefore also a season of rebirth. The two go hand-in-hand not only in human experience but especially in the Church, in the Christian faith. We are Resurrection people, ever dying, it seems, only to rise again. Life, death, time: this is the background noise of our existence, the ticking of a clock we can never quite drown out, no matter how we distract ourselves with purchases, entertainments, and all-too-fleeting pleasures.

Rich and poor, young and old, all are equal in death. So in light of our mortality—what do you want your life to be?

The oldest Christian holiday is Pascha, the Passover, which we for odd historical reasons call in English Easter. And our tradition has ever been that those wishing to join the Christian Church would enter a period of instruction, preparation, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, all leading up to the Easter Vigil, when the catechumenate would be Baptized into the new life in Christ Jesus, and receive the Spirit, the Body, and the Blood of the Lord on the Day of Resurrection.

Of course Christians already baptized would accompany the catechumenate on their journey, supporting, instructing, and preparing them in the Christian faith. That’s what Lent is. It’s the season when we turn from the devil, the world, and the flesh, back to God, back to new life in Jesus Christ; in short, back to Baptism.

Lent lasts 40 days for the simple reason that people in the ancient world knew very well that it takes about 40 weeks for a pregnant woman to come to term. Thus, the number 40, in the Bible, represents a period of difficulty resulting in new birth. Sundays, however, are considered to be in Lent, but not of Lent, due to the fact that Christ rose on a Sunday—the Lord’s Day—and so Sundays are always held as feasts rather than fasts on the liturgical calendar.

40 days leading to Baptism: 40 days of prayer and preparation, of giving and of forgiving, abstaining from excesses of food or self-indulgence, thus to strengthen the will, humble the heart, and seek out God in service and in silence. And these 40 days culminate in death—for indeed that’s what any rite of initiation really is. It is death and resurrection: the death of who you were before, and the resurrection of who you shall now become.

Baptism is often compared to a bath, to the washing away of sin. But at heart Baptism is really a drowning. We are Baptized into Christ’s death, already died for us, and into Christ’s own eternal life, already begun. The waters close over us as the earth closed over Christ; and we rise up again from the Font as Christ rose again from the tomb—for as surely as He is Risen, we too shall arise to newness of life. And so truly it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us.

How this works is a great Mystery. And we have a word for Mysteries in the Church; we call them Sacraments. A Sacrament is a sign that contains the very thing that it signifies; a physical means of grace; a promise, made solid, made tangible, in word and in water, in bread and in wine. Baptism is a promise you can touch: the promise of new beginnings, of the forgiveness of sins; the promise of entry into the priesthood and the family of God; the promise of Resurrection, of a life that outlives death and of a love that burns up hell.

And because of this—because Baptism is God’s own promise which cannot be broken—we are baptized only once and need never be baptized again. Whenever in life we sin and repent, whenever we find that we have failed and fallen short, we return to the Font of our Baptism, we return to the promise of grace, and as surely as that water is wet we find that we are always already forgiven.

And so we die and we rise every day, until that day when we rise never to die again. Only then will our Baptism come to fruition, with an unbreakable promise fulfilled.

When we enter the waters of death and of life, waters of creation, waters of deluge, the old life within us, the mortal life, the frail life, is drowned. It is crucified with Christ on the Cross. It is buried with Him in the tomb. And a new life enters in, a life not of soul but of Spirit, an immortal life, a deathless life, the very Life of Christ Himself. And this Life, this Light, this Breath of God, is none other than the flames of the Holy Spirit. And so we are baptized not simply with water but with fire, the fire of transformation, the fire of sacred sacrifice.

In Christ, God becomes Man. In Baptism, Man becomes Christ. So yeah, it’s going to take us at least 40 days to get ready to experience that. Welcome to Lent, my friends. Remember that you must die. And after that, well—then the real fun begins.

In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


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