“Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.'” (Matthew 16:24)
On Ash Wednesday I participated in a centuries-old Christian ritual, still practiced in my church. We call it “The Imposition of Ashes.” Maybe some of you know the ritual, too.
I was, in fact, an impositioner. I was given a small vial of ashes mixed with oil. As scores of my friends and fellow workers approached the altar, I marked a cross upon their foreheads with the ashy mixture.
I was impressed with the odd picture that followed later in the narthex: swarms of ordinary, white, middle-American Lutherans milling about with a smear of ash on their faces, without the least bit of shame. No one seemed in the least bothered by the smudge. We wore the cross easily.
But it is not so easy elsewhere in the world. Recently I have been reading a book edited by Johan Companjen and titled, “Please Pray For Us” (Bethany: 2000). The book identifies “the fifty-two countries where faith counts most” – that is, the countries in which persecution against Christians is currently the greatest (p.11). It offers an introduction and prayer agenda for each of them.
In one Central Asian country, the average person lives to forty-four and only one child in three reaches the age of five. One person in five has access to safe drinking water. Per capita GDP is us$200. Professing Christians, we are told, may number 4,000 – in a nation of 23,000,000. In this country becoming a Christian, or encouraging others to do so, is an offense punishable by death.
What if the mark of the cross cost us as much as it costs our brothers and sisters in Central Asia? What if it cost us as much as it cost Jesus? I suppose that we would, well, care more. I don’t suppose that we would receive the cross with such nonchalance – and retreat into the narthex for a donut and a laugh over a cup of coffee.
Maybe we should do an “imposition of ashes” at other times during the year – let’s say, at Christmas to remind us that our Savior came to die for us, or on Ascension Day to remind us that our Savior now sends us into the world to live for him. Perhaps the smudge would better capture our attention. Or maybe we should take care to wear the cross and not only the ashes – in our lives, and speech, and practical behavior.
This is what Jesus meant, I think, when he said, “Take up your cross and follow me.” It costs something. It is not rinsed away with a splash of water before bed.
Will we take up this cross? Will we wear it, not only on Ash Wednesday, but in the practical details of our lives?