Reclaiming Ash Wednesday for Christ

Ash Wednesday in the Parenting Pressure Cooker

Strict practitioners would not have approved of my methods, but on one long ago mid-winter Wednesday, I smeared ashes on the foreheads of my two preschoolers and myself. An offering of the hardwood that had heated our home the day before, these ashes were not “ceremonially correct” in any way. At the time, I did not know that traditional Ash Wednesday ashes come from the remains of Palm Sunday palms. I did not even know about the forty days of Lent to follow.

However, I did know about sin—my own and my children’s. We were in “time out” season with one of our sons. At our wits’ end, we had exhausted Dr. Dobson, Elisabeth Elliot, and every parenting resource available in the 90’s. “Why is it so hard to be good?” our little Dobson-buster would ask, and his younger brother’s eyes would fill with tears whenever they were caught in collaborative naughtiness.

In this parenting pressure cooker, maternal apologies had become a daily occurrence. I was hoping to model repentance—while at the same time atoning for sharp words and a short fuse. “I was wrong; please forgive me,” were the words through which my sons were learning that their mother had not outgrown the struggle against sin. Ash Wednesday gives Christians an opportunity to grow in our understanding of where to take that struggle.

Reclaiming Lent for Christ

Historically, our earliest Protestant ancestors revolted against the idea of Lenten practices, and with good reason. In the pre-Reformation mind, penitence, ashes, and self-denial had become ends in themselves. Gradually, however, a biblical understanding of lament has re-entered Christian orthodoxy, anchored in an embrace of our fallen-ness.

Ashes on the forehead rightly represent our need to “repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5–6), and our identity as “a people of unclean lips [who] dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5). Jesus pronounced a blessing upon those who recognize their poverty of spirit and mourn the effects of sin on their life and in the world (Matthew 5:3–4).

Grounded in gospel truth that prompts genuine penitence without crippling guilt and deep conviction without devastating shame, Ash Wednesday invites the believer to a renewed awe of our great salvation. While there is no merit in the wearing of ashes, a season of mourning leading up to Easter may actually enhance our celebration of Resurrection Sunday.

While there is no merit in the wearing of ashes, a season of mourning leading up to Easter may actually enhance our celebration of Resurrection Sunday.

A Wednesday to Teach

In my challenging season of parenting, Ash Wednesday became a visual aid, a teaching tool to reassure my young sons that our sin does not signal the end of God’s love for us. In our home, hymns around the breakfast table always matched the season, and one year, we learned all four verses of a “cross hymn” in the weeks leading up to Easter. Rich hymns of the faith offer deep gospel truth that requires explanation (but not dilution) for little singers:

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
All the vain things that charm me most
I sacrifice them to His blood.

The vain-ness of the “vain things” Isaac Watts wrote about becomes abundantly clear when we remember that nothing lasts forever. “Remember that you are dust” is the lyric of Ash Wednesday. God made us from dust, and our bodies do not live forever. This is a dying world we inhabit: everything from goldfish to grandfathers eventually stops living. And we mourn the loss.

Ash Wednesday is a day to grow in our understanding of where to take our struggle with sin.

Without becoming morbid or frightening, we can prepare our children for the inevitability of death by putting it in the context of the gospel. Thomas á Kempis prescribed a regular pondering of and preparation for death as a route to happiness. Author Gary Thomas suggests that we present-day believers ought to join á Kempis in allowing the reality of death to act “like a filter, helping us to hold on to the essential and let go of the trivial.”

For believers, the “essential” is the eternal, and the eternal comes to us through the cross. The paradox of death leading to rebirth only appears to be a contradiction. All of Christ’s gifts are given to us through death — his death. And it will only be through a different death — our death — that we will finally receive the fullness of life that Jesus died to impart.

A Wednesday to Remember

My sons and I stood before a mirror together, the three of us with our smudged foreheads. We talked about our struggle to obey God and our sadness over sin — the sin that causes mayhem in our home, hurt feelings between brothers, and, worst of all, separation from a God who loves us.

When a little boy is struggling with disobedience, even as a preschooler, he already feels the grit and grind of life on a fallen planet. He may not be able to comprehend sin’s cosmic scale: “For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope. . .” (Romans 8:20). But he is already well-acquainted with the collective groaning, and can love the truth about the hope of our future deliverance from the struggle: “. . . that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Romans 8:21).

Reading selected, age-appropriate portions of the crucifixion story from Luke 22 and thinking about Jesus’s willingness to endure the weight of all the sins of the entire world on his body provides a focus for the wearing of our ashes as a symbol of our grief — mourning that we have sinned and caused division from God and sadness over the suffering Jesus endured when he died in our place.

A Wednesday to Rejoice

If good behavior is all I have to bring to Jesus, he cannot help me. The warm welcome of the gospel on a frigid day in early spring takes into account a little boy’s hopelessness in the face of temptation. Our sin does not signal the end of our relationship with God. It’s a beginning, for it turns out that weakness is a powerful claim upon divine mercy.

Our sin does not signal the end of our relationship with God. It’s a beginning, for it turns out that weakness is a powerful claim upon divine mercy.

Learning to hate sin at a young age, to war against it, and to receive God’s forgiveness is a celebratory milestone. There is a reason to rejoice because of Christ’s obedience to all that God commanded. Then, his love in paying the penalty for our failure to obey gives us a reason for hope, even against the backdrop of my own parenting fiascos and my sons’ serial naughtiness.

God knows well the stuff we are made of. “He remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:14). As a loving heavenly Father, he longs to supply every need for righteous living — in fact it is only his righteousness that will suffice. This orientation provides a solid foundation for a lifelong relationship built on the assurance that God’s purposes will not be thwarted by my sin. He delights to meet me and my children in the ashes.

Grace to you,

Observe Ash Wednesday with your children! When a child is struggling with obedience he feels the grit of life on a fallen planet. He may not be able to comprehend sin’s cosmic scale but is well-acquainted with the groaning, and can love truth about the hope of future deliverance.

On the Third Thursday of every month, I send biblical encouragement and newsy insights to newsletter subscribers. You can sign up using the handy (and only slightly annoying) pop-up form or simply click here to subscribe.

And as always, you can also subscribe to Living Our Days blog to get regular content delivered to your inbox twice a week. Just enter your e-mail address in the field at the top of this page. If you’re encouraged by what you read here, be sure to spread the word!

This article first appeared on the Desiring God website.

What I’m Reading Now

<

Just Finished

What’s Next?

I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees. If you should decide to purchase any of the books I’ve shared, simply click on the image, and you’ll be taken directly to Amazon. If you decide to buy, I’ll make a small commission at no extra cost to you.

Photo by Ahna Ziegler on Unsplash

34 thoughts on “Ash Wednesday in the Parenting Pressure Cooker”

  1. I love how you were able, through the ashes, to witness to your sons that all of us sin and fall short of the glory of God, Michele. I wish I’d thought of that when my kids were young, although we did attend a church where Ash Wednesday was observed, and I do recall telling them what it meant.
    Wishing you a blessed Lent!

    Like

  2. Michele, such a beautiful post. Whether we observe Ash Wednesday or not, may our hearts and minds turn to thinking about our sinful estate and the depth of God’s forgiveness, grace, and mercy on our lives.

    Like

  3. What a beautiful Ash Wednesday reflection! Good for you for using the powerful visual of an ash cross painted on your foreheads to teach your boys about sin and forgiveness. God’s grace covers all of your preschooler’s sins. I hope you extend some of that grace to yourself, Michele. God understands even the frustration and weariness of young moms! 🙂

    Like

  4. Michele, this was beautiful. I love reading how intentional you were and have continued to be in guiding your sons toward a deeper understanding of God’s love. I’m so thankful that our sinfulness does not cause Him to stop loving us. Repentance is such an important part of our relationship with Him, and you showed that to your sons so poignantly.

    Like

    1. I felt in those days as if my learning curve was nearly vertical. I was finding my way forward in my own faith while (gasp) trusting for grace to lead those little boys toward something that was real and precious. By grace…

      Like

  5. I too had the bad habit of using sharp words and having a short temper when my girls were young. I tried to grow with them and find ways that spoke to their hearts without crushing their spirits. So thankful for a husband who fully engaged himself with helping raise our family; he balanced my temper with his steadiness.
    I am also thankful for the fact that “our sinfulness does not cause him to stop loving us.” Glory be!
    He is risen indeed!

    Like

  6. Great post, Michelle! I appreciated how clearly you presented your points under a Wednesday to Teach, and your very convincing reasons to keep this very old custom that most of us Protestants have ignored. I loved that you quoted Isaac Watt’s hymn and Thomas a Kempis! I’ve taught Christian history for a long time and am so glad when all that God has done before and those who faithfully followed Him with the knowledge they were given, are not ignored!

    Like

  7. Michele, I always enjoy your frankness in the realm of parenting. It is a hard journey. Ash Wednesday is a beautiful day and I love how you shared it with your boys, when they were young. We all grow along the way and, hopefully, become the better for it. Thank you for linking up.

    Like

  8. Oh Michele: “This is a dying world we inhabit: everything from goldfish to grandfathers eventually stops living. And we mourn the loss.” Doing so with our children–watching us and participating themselves–is such a powerful part of family life. I don’t come from a tradition that observes Ash Wednesday either, but the practices for imparting truth that you share make so much sense. Especially the part about us as moms being willing to apologize and ask for forgiveness. A memory I have of my mom doing this is a very significant part of my story. It’s an experience that I will probably never share publically, but will hopefully never forget.

    Like

  9. We can definitely learn a lesson in taking joy from holding onto the essentials, but then having the strength to let go of things that trouble us, rather than trying to battle against them to no end. Thank you for joining us for #mischiefandmemories

    Like

  10. I think the origins of Ash Wednesday have been lost in most parts of modern society so it is refreshing to see its relevance and meaning. Thanks for linking up with #MischiefAndMemories.

    Like

  11. Sorry this is so late! Thank you for sharing at #OverTheMoon. Pinned and shared. Have a lovely week. I hope to see you at next week’s party too! Please stay safe and healthy. Come party with us at Over The Moon! Catapult your content Over The Moon! @marilyn_lesniak @EclecticRedBarn

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.