Like The Hypocrites At The Corner

There’s a confusing irony about the Gospel we read on Ash Wednesday. Before we receive ashes as a reminder of our mortality and penitence, we hear Jesus warning against practicing our piety before others. What could be more public than having an ashen cross on your forehead?

This year, I came across an article suggesting it might be appropriate to wash them off before going on with the rest of your day–something that never crossed my mind as appropriate, let alone advisable.

Like The Hypocrites At The Corner

Here’s what Jesus says, in chapter 6 of Matthew:

Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.

So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting  may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

I’ve heard priests address the irony by explaining that Jesus is focusing on the attitude of “the hypocrites”–and preach the passage as an admonishment against acting “holier than thou.” I’ve also heard priests address the hypocrisy underling the reference to “hypocrites”–and preach the passage as emphasizing the importance of how you act when you don’t think anyone is watching.

I’ve never heard a priest suggest washing off the ashes before heading back into the world, and I wouldn’t want to do that. I don’t mind explaining that “It’s Ash Wednesday.” and “No, I’m not Catholic. Episcopalians do it too.” I’m glad when someone is reminded that it’s Ash Wednesday, and makes plans to go to a service later in the day. More importantly, the moments I catch my reflection in the mirror and am again reminded that I am but dust and to dust will return are meaningful to me, and bring my attention back to the solemn reflections of the day.

I also like hearing how others are observing Lent, and think it’s helpful to share ideas and support each other. One friend is taking on the challenge of not using plastic. I learned later that it’s a common thing to take on this year, but it was from her Facebook page that I got the idea to bring utensils to work instead of using the plastic spoons and forks I use and toss every day.

Even among Christians, observing Ash Wednesday and Lent can be an individual and personal matter–mostly between us and our Father in secret–but sharing our practices and explaining what they mean to us can encourage others with similar intentions, and foster understanding with others who have different beliefs.

If you observe Ash Wednesday, do you wash off the ashes?