Return To Me (Ash Wednesday)

 Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

March 6, 2019

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. Life is hard – we are constantly bombarded by the challenges of this world. Every day we are being asked to make decisions that can leave us feeling really good or totally inadequate. And then the unpredictable happens – we get sick, or someone we love dies, or we end up in an accident – and we feel fragile and small, and so human. And when we are able to look beyond our own lives, we see systemic injustice – and we are overwhelmed. How do we live faithfully in this world?

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. We hide parts of ourselves, we guard our hearts, we pretend to be able to function normally so that we can get through the day. And many of us get so good at this that at times we can’t even tell the difference between our true selves and the person the world sees. But when we stop to think about it we know. Deep down we know when we are being our authentic selves and when we are acting. And when we are honest with ourselves, we long to be our authentic selves – the way God sees us. But being fully human really is unspeakably difficult.

The thing is, being our authentic selves often leaves us feeling so very vulnerable. I’d much rather hide the hurt and act like everything is okay – like I can handle it. I prefer to plaster a smile on my face and pretend I’ve got it all under control, rather than face up to just how inadequate I feel. But every time we deny our authentic selves we also denying Jesus Christ. Every time we act like we’ve got it all together, we are saying that we do not need God. And the truth is that we need God each and every hour of each and every day.

For example: We are going along like we’ve got everything under control and then something happens and our worlds are turned upside down. And so often our response is to do our best to pretend that everything is okay. Our culture teaches us to do this. You can do it. Be strong! You’ve got what it takes.

But sometimes we simply can’t – the devastation is more than we can bear. For the prophet Joel is was a plague of locusts that literally destroyed everything, leaving God’s people utterly destitute. Even the animals were starving. It really must have felt like the end of the world. Our “crisis moment” may not be as dire, but it is still very real. Often we are left wondering which way to turn.  If we are honest with ourselves we are scared. And God speaks into our terror: “Return to me with all your heart.”

I have read this passage hundreds of times and every time I’ve read it I have heard it as a call to repentance. Do the right thing. Turn away from your sin and turn to God. Confess your wrongdoings so that you can follow the right path. And this is a fitting theme as we start Lent. God calls us to give up bad habits and take on good ones. We hear Joel’s words – return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning – and I think of the word contrition. Regret and sorrow for past wrongdoings. But the locust infestation was not the result of sin. It was a natural disaster, like an earthquake or a hurricane.

This made me wonder if maybe I had been reading this wrong. And it turns out that the Hebrew word used here isn’t “repent.” It really is return – come back. And when we hear it this way we hear a completely different message. It is more like God is saying, I’m still here. I’m still waiting. I still love you. And I want you to come back to me – I want you to come home. Think of the Father waiting for the Prodigal Son to return home. We are hearing the deepest yearnings of God’s heart. “Return to me!” Come and open up your hearts to me. Rend your hearts and not your clothing – quit acting. Quit hiding yourself from me. Tear open your heart and trust me. Give me your authentic self with all your imperfections and I will enrich your life in ways you cannot possibly imagine. You can trust me. I will love you no matter what. I promise.

God loves you. God calls you. God longs for you – for the authentic you in all its brokenness. “Return to me with all your heart.” Hear what Joel says: “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.”

For me, recognizing that God isn’t pointing to my sin, but rather to the fact that life happens and we get lost, changes everything. As we start our 40 day journey to the cross we are simply acknowledging that being fully human is unspeakably difficult. And it is difficult both because we have made mistakes and because life gets in the way. The market crashes. Our expenses exceed our income. The dog gets sick. Your pastor gets vertigo. And we get lost.

And yet, here we are. Yet. What a funny word. Paul uses it repeatedly in the letter to the church in Corinth: “We are treated as imposters, yet we are true; as unknown, yet we are well known; as dying, yet we are alive; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, on this day we are reminded that God is in the grace business. Right when we feel the most inadequate, the most overwhelmed, God loves us unconditionally. Right when we think we have absolutely nothing to give, God affirms that we have everything we need. Right when we think the world is going to end, God’s abundant grace renews us and brings us joy. Right when we think we are utterly alone, God welcomes us home.

And as ashes are put on our foreheads, reminding us that we are dust, God is leading us to that day when the tomb will be empty and death will no longer have dominion over us. So today we are in death, yet we are promised life!

Being fully human is unspeakably difficult. But with God all things are possible. With God all things are possible.

Here we are, at the beginning of our journey to the cross. Another Lent begins. And God is inviting us, “Return to me with all your heart.” God calls us. God yearns for us. And returning to God becomes both urgent and necessary.

More than that, hearing and responding to that call takes all of us. We cannot do this alone. We cannot find our authentic selves without the help of others.  We need each other. We need good Christian friends on this journey to give us the courage to be fully human. We need examples, so that we know we are not alone. We need the gift of community as we seek to be our most authentic self, true to God and to one another.

But this doesn’t happen over night. That is why God has given us forty days. As we embark on this Lenten journey, each Sunday will have blessings that God has left us, like a trail of breadcrumbs, that lead us into wholehearted, resurrected lives. Fed and nourished in this way, we can endure any calamity, and yet we anticipate new life. The Heart of all hearts will not leave us in a land that has been made desolate by locusts. Each Sunday there will be a signpost that marks another step toward home, toward Life, toward the rising that takes place once we are brave enough to rend our hearts, tearing them open and giving them fully to God.