Gospel: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
As I read this gospel passage in past years, the sections that always stood out to me were the ones in which Jesus tells us what not to do. I don’t know what it says about human nature generally or something inside me specifically that drew my attention to them. Perhaps it’s that we live in a time when we’re often told what we can’t or shouldn’t do. Regardless, they drew my attention.
Do not sound a trumpet before you. Do not look dismal. Do not be like hypocrites.
This year, in this season of my life, something has shifted. I no longer find myself drawn to the middle of the verses and admonitions about what I shouldn’t do. Instead I’ve been pulled back to the beginnings of the verses and the things we should do – the things we should give. These things we give are important, as are those to whom we give them. Alms to those in need, to support and lift them up. Types of fasting, to improve ourselves. Prayers to God, to seek his help and guidance and offer praise.
For many, the season of Lent is a period to wrestle with what to give up. Earlier this month the website Christianity.com posted their 2026 fasting guide, “70 Ideas for What to Give Up for Lent.”[1] They included common things to give up for the next 40 days: meat; candy; alcohol; smoking; caffeine. There was a section on easy things to give up: sleeping late; swearing; overscheduling. There were sections on meaningful things to give up, what kids can give up, and unhealthy things to give up.
Give up this habit; give up that practice. What I found remarkable was that in the many lists in this article listing things to give up, however, there wasn’t a single mention of simply giving.
In a few moments we’ll each receive ashes on our foreheads along with the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” These ashes are more than a visible sign that we’ve been to church today, a little tick on the liturgical list. They, representative of the dust of the earth, symbolize the boundaries of our lives. They are the beginning and the end. They are a sign of the Christ we profess – and they should most certainly be a herald of the Christ-like lives we lead.
They should be a symbol of the Christ-like lives we give.
Demonstrating our faith is about more than saying; it’s about backing up our words with actions. We don’t for instance just read the baptismal covenant so we can check a box a few times a year. When we say we’ll seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves, it means we must do that: demonstrate love and service for all persons.
When we say we’ll strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being, it means we must do that: protect justice, peace, and dignity for every human being.
When we read the words of the prophet Micah to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God, we’re not then supposed to simply sit back and think, “Well isn’t’ that nice; I’m glad I read that.” We’re instead supposed to enact those words and be the ones who actively and visibly seek justice, peace, and a humble walk.
When we read the words of Matthew 25, words of feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, giving water to the thirsty, clothing the naked, and visiting the prisoner, we’re not supposed to then sit back and think, “Let’s watch how others serve Christ by serving the vulnerable.” We’re supposed to be the ones showing others how that’s done, living those words and not just reading them.
When we look at the parable of the Good Samaritan and at the one identified as the neighbor to the outcast who was beaten and left for dead, we’re given a clear directive. Go and do likewise. Show mercy. We’re not just supposed to think, “Well done, Samaritan.” It’s not just a moral to a story; it’s a call to action.
And yes, as Jesus showed us in one of his visits to the temple, sometimes we’re called to act by overturning a few tables.
For the many who are struggling in this world, the many who face poverty, illness, marginalization, or diminishment, the status quo for them truly and heartbreakingly is more of the same. In the silence in which they live, Jesus loudly calls them to more – and he calls us to do more. When we are silent, nothing changes for them. When we don’t act, others may see us as being comfortable with their situation and content that it is their situation. When we do something, however; when we grab hold of the words of Jesus, internalize them, and put them into action; when we look at others and say to them “This doesn’t have to be your situation at all”: then we bring the kingdom promised by God one step closer to reality.
Ashes call us to a time of reflection. Lent calls to a time of introspection. But the crosses we bear on our foreheads this evening and carry into the world are also a call to do more. The dust at the beginning and the dust at the end are the boundaries of our lives; what will we do with our lives between the boundaries?
Amen.
[1] Retrieved from https://www.christianity.com/wiki/holidays/50-things-to-give-up-for-lent.html.