Coffin Ship Memorial, Ireland.
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What if it’s not all about me? What if my death is not the only thing to contemplate? Surely this is the day to take up the invitation to meditate upon one’s own mortality. But does not that very invitation lead to wider thoughts? If I am but dust then is not the dust to which I shall return the very same that all mortal beings cling to, are made of, and to which all in their turn revert?
God promises immortality. Probably not the kind we are waiting for. Unless we are very grand or very humble, we probably have some idea of what we hope eternity holds for us. But we do not know. Nor can we grasp it.
Like Lincoln on the battlefield, consecrating - or rather, acknowledging the consecration - of that sacred ground at Gettysburg, our own words seem of little significance, if placed beside the suffering, sacrifice, futility, and annihilation awaiting all flesh.
This Monday morning I looked at images, and contemplated words, offered by my friend Suzanne Guthrie, as appropriate for an Ash Wednesday meditation. There was one she left out.
It was the image of a coffin ship memorial at the foot of the mountain called Croagh Patrick, in western Ireland. No fault of hers. But as I begin to wonder if there is not more to it than me, that is, more to death and life, that image that comes to me from memory more than the internet, comes forward. As with many horrors, there is more to it than can be grasped. And that includes the mortal hope of those on board such a ship that they will survive and reach the new world and a new life. That new world, and that new life, that survivors indeed shared with their descendants. People like me.
When we inventory our antecedents we think sometimes of those who lived. The replete gentleman who could afford accommodation above steerage on his way across the Atlantic. The slaveholder’s son who was shot not fatally at Shiloh. The revolutionary boy, a hale and hearty lad, who did not freeze to death at Valley Forge. The prisoner who did not starve, forgotten.
Yet all of these could be among our ancestors as they are part of the human family, just as much as those who died on coffin ships or slave ships or desert marches across the southwest.
Morbid. I know. Because there is also gratitude to be remembered among the dead. We remember some of them, perhaps wrongly: memory is fickle and hope is inventive. And we ourselves must each join the parade, of those who have fallen, forgotten or remembered, honored or not.
Some traditions name a newborn child after someone who has recently died, that their name will live on. This can be an intention to the point of an expected duty. Not to be squandered. We may hope to be among those remembered by others; family, friends, readers of a donor plaque.
But we are remembered, already, where it counts. In the ineffable place in the heart of the universe, in the timeless mind of God. Already if not yet we are present in the heart of God.
That is what Jesus means. Today you will be with me in paradise. You already are.
Time has no meaning there; there is neither sorrow nor weeping. And when we go to join them, we will, as the poet says, find ourselves welcome in a city we never knew. But it knew us.
It is the kingdom of God.
***
http://edgeofenclosure.org/ashwednesday.html
From Sundays and Seasons:
Prayer of the Day
Almighty and ever-living God, you hate nothing you have made, and you forgive the sins of all who are penitent. Create in us new and honest hearts, so that, truly repenting of our sins, we may receive from you, the God of all mercy, full pardon and forgiveness through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
Amen.
Prayer of the Day (Alternate)
Gracious God, out of your love and mercy you breathed into dust the breath of life, creating us to serve you and our neighbors. Call forth our prayers and acts of kindness, and strengthen us to face our mortality with confidence in the mercy of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
Amen.
The First Day of Lent commonly called Ash Wednesday (BCP 1662)
The Collect
Almighty and everlasting God, who hatest nothing that thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins of all them that are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we worthily lamenting our sins, and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of thee, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
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