Ash Wednesday
March 5, 2025
Read: Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
The Danger of a Faithful Lent
Before you step onto this Lenten journey—on this holy day of Ash Wednesday—I must ask you to pause. Consider carefully whether this is something you truly want to undertake. The Lectionary texts for today are filled with stark warnings from the Lord.
“Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD?” —Isaiah 58:5
“Beware of practicing your righteousness before others in order to be seen by them, for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.” —Matthew 6:1
Beware. That is Jesus’ word for a day like Ash Wednesday. There is a danger here, perhaps more than ever for the modern Christian. It is easy to bear the ashen cross on your forehead and feel the fleeting satisfaction of public devotion—maybe even post a picture, enjoying the rush of likes and affirmations. But is that the fast God desires? Is that the Lenten season God calls us to?
Lent has always been a journey with consequences. To step into this season with sincerity is to enter a wilderness, one where the Spirit leads and transformation awaits—but not without struggle. In Inferno, the first part of The Divine Comedy, Dante describes a terrifying threshold: the gates of hell, inscribed with the words:
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”
It is a warning that beyond this point, everything changes. And in its own way, Lent should bear a similar caution:
“Proceed with intention, all ye who enter here.”
Because if you take this season seriously—if you take up the fast that God desires—you may not leave Lent the same person who entered it.
So, what is the fast that God expects? Isaiah makes it clear:
“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them and not to hide yourself from your own kin?” —Isaiah 58:6-7
God asks nothing of us that God does not already live, breathe, and practice. The fast God chooses for you this Lent is the fast God embodies—compassion, justice, holiness, the breaking in of God’s kingdom where the world’s broken systems reign.
Beware of practicing Lent, my friends, because in doing so, you will be practicing being like the God you worship. And if you take that seriously, prepare to see things change. You might witness the bonds of injustice breaking. You might see the hungry fed, the naked clothed, your enemies forgiven. You may think it outrageous that such things could happen simply because you choose to fast, but our God delights in outrageous, unexpected miracles.
A sea split open with nothing but a staff and a word. Thousands fed from a humble offering of fish and bread. Lepers healed, not by medicine, but by a touch of compassion.
The danger of a faithful Lent is that you might witness miracles.
But for all its warnings, Lent is not a journey into darkness. It is a journey toward resurrection.
If the gates of hell read “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,” then perhaps the gates of heaven bear another sign:
“Receive hope, all ye who enter here.”
So again, I ask: Is this journey one you are ready to take?
The Reverend Rhett Butler ’13 is Dean of the Chapel at Huntingdon College and an Elder in the Alabama-West Florida Annual Conference.
