Wednesday, February 18 @ 10:00 AM
St. Augustine Cathedral
My dear sisters and brothers, when I was a younger man, I very much enjoyed traveling. I would take out my luggage, put in what I thought I needed, and off I went. If I missed something, I would simply buy it wherever I was going.
As I have grown older, I find travel to be more of an ordeal. Now I carefully plan everything I might need and pack it thoughtfully. I think of what I need, what I might need, and even what others traveling with me may need. Inevitably, my bags are full to the brim. And wherever I go, I buy things for relatives and friends, so I come back with more than I left with. An ordeal—a burden. That is traveling in this world.
But you and I have come here tonight because Jesus invites us to take Him by the hand and begin another kind of journey—a journey that will ask us to walk through a desert and up a mountain, to accompany Him in the forty days of fasting in the desert, and then to climb the mountain of Easter. When we reach its pinnacle, we will see not only a Cross, but an empty tomb and the glimpse of light that lasts forever.
Unlike the journeys we take in this world, where we pack and pack and pack, this journey—beginning tonight—asks us to unpack. To unpack, let it go, and get rid of it, so that we can learn to walk and even run with Jesus.
For you see, my friends, much of what we cling to in life we do not need. They are distractions. They are obstacles—or worse. Jesus is telling us: let it go.
Let us begin with our sins—your sins and mine. Our venial sins, and God forbid, our mortal sins. That which you and I have done to offend God and offend our neighbor. They are like stones wrapped around us. They weigh us down so heavily that we can hardly move or take the next step. Jesus has come to shed His blood to break those chains and set us free—if only we would ask for His forgiveness.
Then there are the things in our lives that we believe we really need: our opinions, our agendas, our desires—particularly those desires that lead us to immediate gratification, forgetting that the journey is to Heaven. Jesus tells us: unpack it. Get rid of it.
Then there are the things we think others may need from us—the things we want to give them because we believe it will help them. But often what we are doing is simply giving them what we want, what we desire from them. Jesus says: let it go. Let them be free.
As you and I learn to unpack—to shed the stuff and let it go—what will we have when we reach the end of the desert?
We will discover what it means to truly live life as God intended us to live it: with freedom, joy, and delight. We will have the hand of Jesus—and we will discover that He is all we truly need.
By doing that, we will be able to run up the mountain and discover that this life, with all its blessings, leads to something we cannot even begin to imagine: the glory of a life, a love, a joy, and a peace that will never end. That is what Easter promises you and me—if only we learn to walk the journey as Jesus asks.
My friends, in about two minutes I will come here and bless these ashes. And if you come to me, or to any of the deacons, or to Dominic, our seminarian, we will say to you: “Repent, and believe in the Gospel.” Or we will say: “Remember that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.”
Those ashes are the result of the palms that were blessed last year—palms that were burned into dust. And those ashes represent everything in this life that keeps us from Jesus, from running with Him in joy. All of that stuff becomes ashes.
Do not be afraid of them. Embrace them. Wear them as a reminder of what Lent asks of us.
Together, let us begin this journey and see what Christ will do for you and for me.