Ash Wednesday

Even now, says the Lord,
return to me with your whole heart,
with fasting, and weeping, and mourning;
Rend your hearts, not your garments,
and return to the Lord, your God.

-Joel 2:12-13

Receiving the ashes from an Episcopal priest in the open-air church on the island of Maui is a far cry from my experience of last year’s Ash Wednesday. I find myself wondering is it time, distance, place, me or all of the above that rings differently? Last year’s celebration was in a more evangelical setting and I found that I was battling my own inner struggles with childhood and early adult notions of fire, brimstone and eternal hell.

This year’s rendering felt more attuned to my heart and state of mind. The here and now was more prescient than an out there view of penitence. My morning focus came from today’s verse (see above) in the Abbey of the Arts Lenten series where I landed on what it means to “rend my heart.”

“Rending” to me focuses on those tiny rips and tears that happen subtlely (and not so subtlely) throughout the day. Do I say a discourteous word to someone or think a prideful thought? While I in no means want to lean toward the do’s and don’ts of a faith by works theology, I am struck by the infinitesimal ways I can offend others and thus my own self (often without a word leaving my mouth or an overt action taking place.)

Today after the morning church service and breakfast, we took a drive to the Iao Valley, which is one of our personal guide’s favorite historical spots on the island. A great battle was fought in this valley and so many died there legend says the river ran red with blood for weeks after the engagement. There is also a lovely park with visual representations of the many immigrant populations of this island. My heart again turned to “rending” and the large tears and carnage that we as human beings inflict upon each other.

It has been another magical day in paradise. My heart has turned toward God again and I ponder what the rest of Lent will hold for me. What will the rending look like? Will there be healing too? Where will blood flow through the rivers of my life? What battles lie ahead?

This morning rending came defined as harsh and harrowing, and while the definition may not have changed, it feels like the turning (& tearing) of my heart continues on the path toward a God who heals and walks alongside through both peaceful times and tumultuous ones. It is a God worth turning toward.

Where is your heart turning this Lenten season? Can you feel the rending? Will you be open to God’s mending? Is paradise yours - here and now?

view inside Holy Innocents Church - Maui © h3images
Iao Valley © h3 images