“Ash Wednesday on the Go” photo in Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
On Ash Wednesday this year, working with St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, we offered our third “Ashes on the Go” event, spending the day in a parking lot at Pleasant Ridge shopping center, where we shared conversations, ashes, and prayer with nearly 100 people. I wrote about my experience the first year we did this and I continue to enjoy our public outreach.
The local media also finds this project of interest each year, and we’ve received a good bit of attention with it. This year, two television stations and the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette found it worthy of their time.
I like it when San Damiano’s name is in the news, even though experiences with the media can certainly vary. As Oscar Wilde pointed out, “there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.” Exposure in Central Arkansas helps us to get the word out about this wonderful community of faith, so I am grateful to those who gave us some attention.
However, I do feel compelled to point out two places in the coverage by one of the television stations this year that missed the mark. In one case, they were simply wrong; in the other, I understand the perspective but disagree with it.
First, the plain error. In THV11’s story, “Ash Wednesday becoming trendy?”, I was referred to as the person “who started ‘Ashes to Go’ in Little Rock.” I was not. I have no idea where the idea came from that I was — it was not something we even talked about on Wednesday, that I recall.
I don’t know that our 2012 event was the first in the city, but if it was, Lisa Hlass of St. Michael’s gets the credit for what we did. It was Lisa who told us about the “Ashes to Go” movement, which began in the St. Louis in 2007. She, in turn, gives thanks to The Rev. Mary Vano of St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church for our involvement.
My second issue with Channel 11’s story was the attempt to spin our outreach as “trendy”, referring to it in the same breath as “fad fasts” (What are those? The story never explored that idea.) and trying to create a tension between Ashes to Go and “traditional” approaches to Lent.
I can understand why some people view doing public ministry in the shopping centers as novel — it doesn’t seem to happen much anymore. But I want to suggest that the idea of doing ministry outside of a church building is so old that many people have forgotten it. Going to where the people are is as old a Christian tradition as, well, Jesus.
It is ironic that people who for the past few Sundays have been hearing the Sermon on the Mount would think it “trendy” that we spent a day in the street …
As Jesus began to attract followers, he preached not only in the synagogues but also on the hillsides. He sent his disciples from town to town and house to house, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. It is ironic that people who for the past few Sundays have been hearing (or preaching about!) the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) would think it “trendy” that we spent a day in the street, declaring a hundred times “that it is only by [God’s] gracious gift that we are given everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Savior.”
No doubt some found it novel when, in 1208, St. Francis of Assisi cast off his staff, shoes, and leather belt, and began to go about barefoot in a simple tunic with a cord around his waist, preaching “peace and good” to the people in the streets. It wasn’t trendy at all, however. Francis got the idea from the Gospel, as well, when he heard Matthew 10:7-19 read on the Feast of St. Mathias at Mass.
The real novelty, historically, came when people began to think of buildings, rather than people, as “the church”. In the earliest years of the Christian movement, we understood ecclesia (the New Testament word translated “church”) neither as a building nor as some distant and complex hierarchy, but as the assembly. Wherever the assembly happened — where two or three gathered in the name of Jesus (cf. Matthew 18:20) — there was the church. And as often as not, when Jesus (and later, St. Francis), would send his followers out two by two, preaching good news, the people didn’t go to church. The church went to the people.
Unfortunately, after a while, the Jesus movement began to be trendy. Once it became a more acceptable, fashionable thing to be known as Christian (once a derisive term), folks who had been gathering in simple, private houses began to long for buildings. They adopted the Roman basilica as a model and “church” began to be the place where they met, as well as the assembly, which they were. Their numbers grew, so their organizational infrastructure did, as well, and people eventually began to think of “the church” as “the hierarchy”, something separate from the people (much as many think of “the government” as something distinct from the citizenry).
This was the real “trendiness” that moved the church away from its roots and, consequently, away from those on the margins of life, the people in the streets, who were always to be the objects of the church’s care. Our desire to look like the fashionable culture around us led us farther from our mission.
Let me also suggest that it is not “trendy”, not fashionable, not de rigueur to spend a day outdoors in 30° weather, sharing one’s faith. Nor is the Franciscan habit which I wore a particularly popular fashion in Little Rock in 2014. I have no doubt that there were interesting comments made by the passersby. But I was not out there to be trendy, nor were the other clergy and volunteers. We were there to bear witness to the great joy we know through Jesus Christ. We were there to provide an opportunity to fellow Christians who could not be with their usual assembly that day. We were there to be the church in the midst of the people and share good news with whoever would hear it.
Please don’t misunderstand. I enjoy the “traditional” Lenten observances as much as anyone does. I said Mass at 7:00 AM and attended at 6:30 PM on Ash Wednesday — hearing the traditional readings, observing the silences, confessing my sins, and receiving the Body and Blood of Christ. But to set Ashes to Go in tension with that experience is to miss the point.
In several conversations with people in the parking lot, I observed that it is better to be “at church” for the full Mass, when it’s possible. Many Catholics regretted that they couldn’t attend the liturgy at their parish that day. But because we were there, they had an opportunity to gather with the church — to be part of the assembly — albeit a small assembly outside a closed Johnny Carino’s restaurant. They received their ashes, that simple sign of their mortality and penitence, and prayed with joy as they entered Lent.
One hundred people, praying in a parking lot. Okay. I give. If that’s trendy, it’s a trendiness I can get behind. But I believe it’s truly something so old, it’s new again.
