“But the thing that David had done displeased
the Lord, and the Lord sent Nathan to David. . . Nathan said to David, ‘You are
the man!’” –2 Samuel 12: 1, 7
After
David was convicted of his sin, he penned what is one of the most beautiful and
heartfelt Psalms ever written, Psalm 51.
“Have mercy on me, O God,” he said, “For I know my transgressions, and
my sin is ever before me. Indeed, I was
born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. Do not cast me away from your presence, O
God, and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Deliver me, O God of my salvation; wash me and I shall be whiter than
snow, create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a whole new spirit within me.”
David,
the King of Israel, recognized that with all his riches, with all his wealth,
with all his victories in battle, with all his talent, with all his piety, he
had nothing, nothing, that could make up for his sins. There was no sacrifice great enough. If there was, he said, he would do it! But he knew, as he said in the psalm, “You
have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, O God, you
would not be pleased. The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you
do not despise.”
And
so that is why we observe Ash Wednesday.
To let our hearts break before God, that God might mend them with his
grace. To acknowledge that we may be
crushed by sin, but God makes our very bones rejoice. To see that though we dwell in shadow and ash,
we have hope in the grace of God to wash us and make us clean.
Over
a year ago now, the world was riveted by the plight of 33 Chilean miners who
were buried half a mile beneath the earth.
For sixty-nine days, they lingered in the darkness, surrounded by ash
and shadow. While they were buried, the
wife of one of the miners gave birth to a child. He sent word up to his wife: Name her Esperanza, he said, for Esperanza,
in Spanish, means HOPE.
Hope
that there was light beyond darkness, freedom after captivity, fresh air after
thirst, that out of a place of death, Life might still emerge. That is our hope on Ash Wednesday, a hope
founded in the life-giving act of our Lord:
the hope that though we are in the darkness of sin, with the taste of
tears and ashes in our mouths, that this is not the end. That God does not leave us in the pit, God
does not leave us in the earth, God does not leave us in the deep darkness of
our sin, but resurrects us, raises us to life with the raising of Christ
himself.
The
ashes we receive are the ashes of our sin, but they are marked upon us in the
shape of the cross, to remind us that sin is not the end, because of the
sacrifice of our Lord. So as we enter
the season of Lent, may Ash Wednesday bring us hope, for though our conviction
places us in dust and ashes, God does not leave us there, but lifts us to the
light of his love through the power of Christ our Lord.
©
Dawn M. Mayes 2012
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