GOOD FAITH FOR THE COMMON GOOD

Good Faith and the Co= mmon Good

Occasional Offeri= ngs from Sam Candler on issues of faith, church, and the world.<= /p>

= ASHES AND WINE

Abo= ut 350 miles west of Morocco = and about 550 miles southwest of L= isbon, there lies a verdant island, lush with greenery and life. Scientists now recognize the island as having been formed by an ancient volcanic explosion. The island was discovered in the year 1418 by one Captain Joao Zarco, saili= ng under orders from Prince Henry the Navigator. He found it virtually impenetrable, so thick was the forest and growth.

Bec= ause the forest was so dense, Captain Zarco named the island for the Portuguese word= for "wood." That word is "madeira." Then, Captain Zarco set about clearing the land. It was hard work. Deciding that the only way to cl= ear the entire island was to use fire, he and his men burned the whole island.<= o:p>

The= island of Madeira burned for seven years. Wh= en the fire was out, the entire place was covered with a fine wood ash. That ash dissolved into the volcanic ground, combined with the clay and calcium alre= ady there, and an incredibly rich soil resulted, even more fertile than the previous soil. In fact, this became the same sort of soil which was conduci= ve to fine wine.

So,= people began to grow grapes in the soil! Thus was the beginning of a fine wine nam= ed Madeira. By 1495, it was being produced. It became,= in Europe, the after-dinner drink of choice. George Washington is said to have drunk a pint a day. Thomas Jefferson toasted the Declaration of Independence with madeira.

Madeira -- a fine wine, born of burnt ashes in the soil.

On = Ash Wednesday, Christians put ashes on our foreheads. In doing so, we are follo= wing one of the oldest of Christian customs. At one time, not everyone in the Christian congregation placed ashes on their head, but only those who were acknowledging and confessing egregious sins. They made public their confess= ion with these ashes. But in the Middle Ages, it became the practice for every Christian to submit to the ashes. The season of Lent became a time of public penitence for the entire church.

Tod= ay, the ashes mean these things, but many more. The ashes are a reminder of our ori= gin from the earth. “Remember,” we say, “that you are dust, a= nd to dust you shall return.” We are not the self-assured, comfortable, live-forever people that we try so often to look like. We are going to die,= all of us; we know that. Ashes are a sign of that ultimate reality.<= /span>

The= ashes are also, of course, a sign of sin. We are tainted, stained, by our constant falsehoods and wrong actions. We are a people who know better, but who make wrong choices. It was not someone else who made us do it. It was not the fa= ult of Satan. We were not possessed by demons. It was not the fault of our pare= nts. It was not the fault of society. It was not our peer group or the culture around us.

It = was us. We are responsible. We have sinned by our own fault in thought, word, and d= eed; by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.

But= today, I propose another meaning for these ashes. Out of these ashes, these signs = of our mortal nature, comes something else. Once we recognize our own responsibility for wrongdoing, once we acknowledge our mortal and dusty nat= ure, the ashes also become a sign of fertility.

If = we are truly repentant, and truly cleansed, and open to the reality of God around = us, then we are also fertile, ready to give growth to greatness.

Out= of seven years worth of ashes on the island of Madeira came one= of the finest wines of that time. There is no way the wine could have been produced without the burning, without the ashes. In fact, it was the burning that cleared the ground in the first place.

Ash Wednesday and Lent are, likewise, the burning and clearing of our Christian lives. We enter a time for confession, for penitence, for realization of our earthly nature. But this is also a fertile day, a time for self-examination= and self-preparation. Today is getting us ready for something.

Jus= t as ground is prepared in the Spring for luscious growth, today the ground of o= ur lives, the soil of our souls, is being prepared. Maybe through our confessi= on and mortal acknowledgement, we are emptied, opened, made ready for somethin= g. We will mark our lives with ashes, but they are ashes of fertility and rich preparation.

In = fact, we are preparing our souls for the presence of God. The dense forest of our complicated lives is too thick. It is time to burn it away and make ready t= he fields for new growth.

Our= God awaits our openness, our fertile ground. God comes into our lives with forg= iveness, with deep love – and with the smooth glory of a fine wine. Yes, Christians receive that wine, too, on Ash Wednesday. Christians walk to the altar twice. We receive both ashes and wine, the fine wine of Christ. We receive the sign of our mortal nature, but we also receive the sign of fert= ile and abundant life.

24 = February 2009

This= article has also appeared online at www.e= piscopalcafe.com. Check it out.

Sam = Candler is Dean of the Cathedral of St. Philip in Atlanta, Georgia. Contact him at scandler@stphilipscathedra= l.org.
To read other reflections on Good Faith and the Common Good >>&g= t; .

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