You can read the original text here.

Reflecting on last week’s Ash Wednesday Masses it
is possible to observe an unusual and puzzling sight. On this day, almost every
priest looks out into a congregation that is barely recognizable. To be sure
there are many familiar faces of those who regularly attend. But almost half
(!) or more of the congregation is populated by faces unknown. Have tour busses
unloaded their riders from distant lands? Is this the holiday season where many
are here visiting family? No, this is Ash Wednesday, a most peculiar day. Even
days before, the phones start ringing and rather urgent voices on the other end
ask, “When will ashes be given?” One might almost think that ashes were
necessary for salvation. Sadly, to none of the Sacraments is such urgency
attached, even among the more faithful. Baptisms, confessions, marriages and
Mass itself are often delayed, or even wholly omitted. But come Ash Wednesday
there is an urgent and laser-like focus exhibited by large numbers of otherwise
disinterested Catholics, it seems like many are majoring in the minors.
We may lament this, but what
can we learn from this? Somehow, even if unwittingly, the Church has
powerfully connected with a large segment of otherwise non-practicing Catholics
as well as the unchurched. Ashes are awesome! Really? It’s pretty humbling
isn’t it? The usual Catholic attempts to seem positive and “relevant” such as
trendy music and positive “welcoming” themes are often found wanting. But then,
these ashes, which break all the “rules” and theories of modern evangelization
powerfully connect with the very folks we are trying to reach. Maybe we have
things to learn!
Consider that the message of
Ash Wednesday and the imposing of ashes is not one of our more joyous and
positive messages. The fundamental message of this sacramental is, “You are
going to die.” Sure we use a little poetry to say it: “Remember you are dust
and unto dust you shall return.” But, its fundamental message is still the
same: “You are going to die.” Even if one uses the alternate formula, “Repent
and believe the Gospel”, repent is not one of our more cheerful or “welcoming”
messages. People are not piling into Church to hear John 3:16 (God so loved the
world…) and take some valuable or lasting token like a holy card or religious
medal. They are lining up to have dirty ashes smeared on their forehead and to
hear that they are going to die and need to repent before it’s too late. The
Prophet Joel and St. Paul issue urgent warnings that we should weep and fast on
account of our sins, that we must repent and be reconciled to God.
This is hardly what most modern evangelizers tout
as the way to reach souls. But souls line up for it every year. Granted, many
are not convicted enough to come again until next year, but the point is that
the one time they DO come is on a day that breaks almost every precept of
the “welcoming community” message at the
heart of modern Church out-reach.
Why is this and what can we
learn? In answering this I do not have vast polling data on which to rely.
I have only anecdotal data from years of talking to Ash Wednesday Catholics and
from hearing what others have discovered in their conversations. So, take what
you like from my thoughts and leave the rest. Here then are a few thoughts.
Belonging seems to be deeper
than membership or practice.
Many have left the formal practice of the faith and active membership.
Some have angry differences with the Church, other have simply drifted or are
indifferent. But, when it comes time to answer a survey question of their
religious identity, they still check “Catholic.” Ash Wednesday somehow taps
into this belonging and identity. It is a day, through the wearing of ashes or
the participation in a well known rite that many of these Catholics say, “I
still belong….These are my roots…I may not be a “good” Catholic, but Catholic I
am.” In some sense, one might leave the Church but the Church never really
leaves them; something is still there nudging them not to forget. To a lesser degree
Palm Sunday serves a similar purpose and that little piece of palm leaf
displayed in the home, usually on or near the crucifix gives voice to Mother
Church’s tug on our heart. Though it, some Catholics say, “Through I am
distant, I still belong.” In places like Mexico and the U.S., some Hispanics
have gone to the Evangelical denominations, but the image of Our Lady of
Guadalupe is still prominent in their homes. It is as if to say, “You can take
the Man out of the Church, but you can’t take the Church out of the Man.”
Yes, belonging has deep roots, and somehow, people ritually express a
kind of “forget me not” to the Church. Clearly we want to offer them more, but
at least there is still some connection, some homing beacon that reminds us and
them that they “still belong.”
A serious and sober message
carries weight.
Though the message associated with the imposition of ashes is not a
cheerful one, it does carry weight; it is something to take seriously and
something which commands respect. Hence the Church is attractive when she
preaches and teaches in a way that is substantial and respectable. Most people
know that not everything is right in their lives and the message of Ash
Wednesday resonates with this instinct. Most people, in seeking a doctor, want
one who takes disease seriously and is willing to have an honest conversation
about what must be done. Even if they are not ready or willing to follow all of
his or her advice, they ultimately want the truth and will not respect a doctor
who is not serious or engages in mere flattery. To a significant degree we have
lost a sense of this in the Church.
As noted above, there has been a tendency
in the past fifty years to “lighten up.” Great emphasis is put on “positive
themes” such as God’s mercy and goodness, but little emphasis on repentance,
which is the key that unlocks that mercy. There is almost a pathological
avoidance of controversial moral teachings or more “negative” themes such as
death, judgment, heaven and hell. No one should ever be upset and the fear of
consequences should not be elicited. Parishes should be welcoming and
non-judgmental, homilies encouraging and uplifting, sacrifices and reparation
for sin and the demands of discipleship are soft-pedaled. And of course, “God
is Love,” but that “love” is more often presented as a soft kindness, rather a
strong love that seeks to set things right and bring us to the healing of
holiness. Affirmation too often eclipses transformation. As for the liturgy, it
is often not often celebrated in a way that says something profound and healing
is taking place here. And while some think this is the necessary approach today
to win converts, our churches have been steadily emptying through this period
of “Catholic Lite.”
Further, such a pastoral strategy does not elicit
the respect and reverence necessary if the Church is going to preach the Gospel
with authority. And though many modern
liturgists fear that negative themes will repulse modern man, Ash Wednesday
calls such fears into question. So too Palm Sunday whose theme is the Passion.
The Palm Sunday Gospel is long and intense; the suffering due to our sins is
made quite clear. Yet attendance is also very good, in some places, even better
than Easter or Christmas.
So here are some things to
learn in terms of Evangelization. These observations are not intended in an
absolute sense. Balance is needed where the bad news of sin, death and our need
to repent are blended with the good news of mercy, healing and salvation. There
is an old saying, “If you don’t know the bad news, the good news is no news.”
Collectively we have been too averse to presenting the bad news. But as Ash
Wednesday and Palm Sunday show, many of the unchurched are willing to hear it
and fundamentally know it is true. The bad news also highlights how wonderful
the good news is.
It is also clear that, whatever
respect Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday command, it is not enough. Only
rarely do attendees at an Ash Wednesday Mass experience the conversion that
helps the Church seal the deal. Looking to the future we do well to ponder how
we might make use of evangelical moments such as Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, as
well as funerals, weddings and baptisms. Many unchurched are encountered in
such moments and simply preaching light-heartedly may need to be balanced with
sober calls for repentance and a decision to walk with the Lord in the Church
and in the Sacred Liturgy.
Warnings have their place and
as Ash Wednesday shows, such messages are not as unappealing as many in the
Church think. If we want Ash Wednesday Catholics to become All Sunday
Catholics, maybe we can learn to build on what brings them in the first place
and be less anxious to echo the opening words of Jesus’ public ministry,
“Repent and Believe the Gospel!”