The denial of death is all around us. When people die, they are often alone, sequestered in hospitals away from the sad eyes of friends and family. If someone happens to die at home, the corpse is quickly sent away from the grieving relatives. In polite society, one doesn’t talk much about death. We ourselves don’t want to think about our own mortality, and we do many things to pretend that it’s not approaching. We dye our greying hair; we cover our age spots with makeup; we get cosmetic surgery to preserve the image of youth. Rarely do we seriously think about our own death. As a minister, I’m amazed at how unusual it is for someone to make plans for his or her own memorial service, or even to leave notes for the family. These are things we’d rather not have to bother with.

For many people, Ash Wednesday is far too sombre a day to be “celebrated” – and yet, it is one of my favourite times of the Christian year. You may not know that this holy-day has been honoured by Christians for around 1000 years, to mark the beginning of Lent (six weeks of preparation for Easter). Prior to this, ashes were sprinkled over the bodies of those persistent in sin, echoing the repentance of Job “in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6). Later, instead of sprinkling over the whole body, ashes were marked in the shape of a cross… a hint of the Good News yet to come.

This Wednesday 1^st March (a great way to celebrate my birthday!), we will hold a service in the evening (7:45pm), during which, John and I will mark those present with this sign of the cross, and say: “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Gen 3:19). At this time, we stare death in the face, and acknowledge our mortality.

What I value most about Ash Wednesday worship services is the chance for us all to openly acknowledge our frailty and sinfulness. In a world that often expects us to be perfect and youthful, Ash Wednesday gives us an opportunity to freely confess our imperfections. We can let down our pretences and be truly honest with each other about who we are. We all bear the mark of sin. We all stand guilty before a holy God. We all are mortal (not superhuman) and will someday experience bodily death. Thus, we all need a Saviour – one who will die for all people, and will rise again.

And so it is for Christians on Ash Wednesday. We can face death. We can admit our own mortality. We can talk openly about the limits of this life. Why? Because we know that through Christ we have entered into life eternal, the fullness of life that will not end when our bodies give out. We acknowledge together that death is an end, not the end.

The emotional result of Ash Wednesday observance isn’t depression or gloom, but gratitude and new energy for living. When we realize how desperately we need God, and how God is faithful far beyond our desperation, we can’t help but offering our lives to God in fresh gratitude. And when we recognize that life doesn’t go on forever, then we find new passion to delight in the gifts of each and every day, and to take none of them for granted.