GET ASHED BUT WASH IT OFF!

 (A sermon preached at a school assembly on ASH WEDNESDAY 1997)

You lot are here whether you like it or not. I’m here by invitation, with a little arm-twisting from the Chaplain. And the reason we’re all here is

firstly to take a bit of time out for quiet before we face the pressures of another action-packed day;

and secondly because it’s Ash Wednesday.  Literally.

We are going to suffer the mild and bizarre humiliation of having a bit of soggy ash painted on our foreheads to remind us that, however fanciable or important we may think we are, our bodies are really no more than the heap of dust they will rapidly become when we die.

Sounds a bit depressing,doesn’t it?

But actually these two things - quietness in a world of manic busyness and humility instead of self-importance are two absolute essentials in the personal survival kit of anybody who is trying to lead a happy life.

Quietness. I don’t necessarily mean prayer or meditation (transcendental or otherwise). I just mean an ability to switch off,stop worrying,stay still and on your own even if it’s only for 5 or 10 minutes a day.

There are so many pressures to perform, to compete, to achieve, to excel that, if we’re not careful, we think the only hope is to cram every waking minute with physical or mental activity.

But that way we never give ourselves a chance to get things into perspective and we end up wasting energy and achieving nothing worthwhile.

Just look for a moment at the life-style and game plan of Jesus Christ. He didn’t pass exams, win a scholarship, play international football or cricket - he only changed the world in a way that no-one else has ever done. And he didn’t start until he was 30 when he had only 3 more years to live. Then what do you think he did? He spent the first 40 precious days of those three short years on his own in the desert fasting and doing nothing. And if you read the gospel, you will find that, despite his packed programme of preaching, teaching, healing and miracles, he was always slipping off on his own whenever he could to reflect and pray in quietness and stillness.

Now I suppose it’s possible that none of us is going to change the world (although you never know) but what is certain is that,whatever we do with our lives, we won’t get anywhere unless we develop the determined  habit of stepping off the merry-go-round of activities, tasks and competitions every so often to get our breath and recharge our mental batteries.

But that is not enough. We must not only get away from the frenzy of the rat race into stillness.

Humility. We must also get away from the idea that what matters in life is making our own mark at the expense of others. Look again at the lasting influence of Jesus Christ compared with the despised memories of dictators, megalomaniacs and self-publicists.

I suppose it’s asking rather too much but I do just wonder if one or two of you might remember last time I was here at assembly when I talked about the film Reservoir dogs and the way it illustrated the utter futility of a macho world in which no-one has the guts to be the first one to put his gun down.

The soggy ashes on the forehead business - and I know you can’t wait to get on with it - reminds me at first of those English football fans who paint their faces white and red like a St.George’s flag.

But only up to a point. Because there is one crucial difference.

The football fans have put their warpaint on to draw attention to themselves, especially from the rival fans.

We don’t - or shouldn’t - parade around outside with our ashy foreheads

either because we want people to see what pious and repentant little Christians we are

or even because we think the whole thing is a big laugh.

Both attitudes are an equally ugly kind of pride.

No. The point is we submit to being “ashed” as a private act of humility to encourage us on the right approach to life and then we unobtrusively wash it off before it becomes what’s known these days as a “statement”

and we try instead to let our behaviour towards others speak for itself. 

So there you are. Be still and be humble, and you’ll have a good Lent, even if - as I’m sure - you have no little vices wicked enough to give up.