Unholy Sh+t: You Are Butt Dust

Special Lenten Edition!

I was eighteen years old when I learned about Ash Wednesday. I was serving at a restaurant when a lady walked in with this massive smudge on her head. She said she was meeting someone for a lunch date, so I warned her, “Ma'am, you’ve got a thing on your head.” She tilted her face and looked at me like I was being mean. I just kept making a circular motion on my face indicating where she had the spot. She said, “are you mocking me?” I had grown up my entire life in the Protestant Church, and there weren’t many Catholics roaming around Nashville. I had no idea what Ash Wednesday was. But that is the day I had a whole catechism class sitting in an HR meeting with my manager.

Now that I’m older, I’ve let my younger self off the hook a bit. That priest did a shoddy job.

Unholy Sh+t: An Irreverent Bible Study

Ash Wednesday 

Today’s reading: Matthew 6:1-18

Most of us are (now) familiar with the tradition of Lent. Even if you aren’t a Christian, the Lenten traditions have permeated culture around the world. Probably one of the more popular traditions is Mardi Gras because nothing gets you ready to say, “He is risen!” like titties and beer. Now, to be fair, you’ve gotta have something to be contrite about come Lent, and that is pretty much the birth of the whole Mardi Gras tradition: get your sinning and gluttony in ASAP before we move into the self-loathing and guilt bit.

That’s Catholic 101.

After the feasting comes the iconic scene: the congregation gathers in the church on Ash Wednesday, the mood is solemn, everyone is super sorry about what they can remember of Fat Tuesday, and then we get ashes smeared on our foreheads, so everyone knows we are entering the season of fasting and then the priest gets up to read the gospel, “When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites. They neglect their appearance, so that they may appear to others to be fasting. Truly, I say to you; they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting.”

What in the actual sh+t is this?

You mean to tell me that the gospel reading on ASH FREAKIN’ WEDNESDAY says not to do the exact thing we are all doing, and millions of people pile into churches every single year, hear this verse, and get ashed up anyway? You bet they do! And you know why? *elbows Tevye* 🎶tradition!🎶

See, the thing about Ash Wednesday is it’s actually full of some beautiful traditions that have become so compulsory that they’ve lost their meaning almost entirely. For example, did you know the ashes are made from the burned palm branches from last year's Palm Sunday? It’s true. The priest holds onto a frond and saves it all year long so it’s good and dry, and then sets it on fire a year later, grinds it down, and then mixes it with a bit of oil so that the ashes will stick. It’s supposed to represent the circular nature of life and such. That’s beautiful, right? 

Plus, there is the whole “ashes to ashes” bit that reminds us we are all mortal and will soon die, and life is meaningless, and you best just have fun while you are at it! Wrong! You’ve got to give something up for Lent, too. And it’s got to be something you really enjoy, like chocolate, social media, or master debating on the internet.

So now you are covered in ash, experiencing cognitive dissonance from the gospel reading, hungover from the night before, and you can’t even have chocolate. And they wonder why the Crusades happened. You’ve got a bunch of hangry and hungover Catholics just mad at the world and being gaslit from the pulpit. Do you want to start useless wars? Because that’s how you start useless wars. *looks off-screen* oh? They did want to start useless wars, well, uh, good job then, I guess?

But tradition does have value, even if it is totally contradictory. Sometimes, I suppose, it’s nice to just have the consistency. 

However, this is why I like the less known and less popular Lenten tradition within the Eastern Orthodox Church a bit more than its western counterpart. In the Orthodox Church, the season of Lent does not begin with ashes or solemnity or picking your favorite luxury to toss aside: it starts with an apology. 

During what’s known as the Forgiveness Vespers on the Sunday before Lent (because Lent begins on a Monday in the East), everyone walks around the room saying some variation of, “please forgive me, a sinner.” And I do mean everyone does it: the bishop, the priests, the deacons, the laity. If you have a big grievance with someone, you are supposed to resolve it before this service. This is a big deal! Everyone is just walking around doing their best to make amends and ask forgiveness. Not just for personal offenses but the things they have done, the things they’ve left undone, and the things they should have done. 

Yes, fasting is still part of the tradition (during Lent, the diet is nearly vegan: no meat, oil, cheeses, etc.) You don’t have to think about something to give up; it’s already written into the program guide. Instead, what you are thinking about is what you’ve gained together as a community: forgiveness. 

And not just forgiven by some obscure deity but from your neighbors, friends, and family. Because the western Lenten traditions are rooted in mourning, but the Eastern tradition is born out of the concept of the Jubilee: that everyone is deserved a fresh start from debt.

So I ask of each of you, please forgive me for those things I have done, those things I have left undone, and those things I should have done. And may you have a blessed Lent.