Ash Wednesday

We have heard two readings in preparation for the Lenten journey on which we embark today, and I would like to underline a common theme:
 
Pope Benedict XVI spoke of Jesus time in the desert as a Lenten journey:
 
“This long time of silence and fasting was for him a complete abandonment to the Father and to his plan of love…. It was not an act of pride, a titanic enterprise, but a decision of humility, consistent with the Incarnation and the Baptism in the Jordan, in the same line of obedience to the merciful love of the Father, who ‘So loved the world that he gave his only Son’ (Jn 3:16).”
 
Thomas Merton spoke of the centrality of God’s mercy in this season:
 
“In laying upon us the light cross of ashes, the Church desires to take off our shoulders all other heavy burdens – the crushing load of worry and obsessive guilt, the dead weight of our own self-love.  We should not take upon ourselves a ‘burden’ of penance and stagger into Lent as if we were Atlas, carrying the whole world on his shoulders….The God of Ash Wednesday is like a calm sea of mercy.”
 
Lent is not a time for sadness or heroic self-castigation.  It is rather a time of holy mourning and a cry for mercy and salvation for ourselves and for all.  It is a journey through the desert, with Christ, to the Father.  It is a journey framed and defined by love:
“You are my beloved Son.”
“Truly, this man was God’s Son.”
 
Why do we fast?  We fast because we are hungry, hungry for God.
Why do we fast?  We fast because the world is hungry in body and in spirit.
Why do we fast?  We fast because God in Christ chose to go hungry so as to draw near to us.
 
As today’s gospel lays out, Lent is a time for practicing corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  The corporal works of mercy give physical nourishment and material aid to those who are in need.  The spiritual works of mercy give spiritual nourishment and support to those who are in need.  Without wishing to undermine the other-centeredness of this gospel precept, I would like to suggest that we consider what it means to perform corporal and spiritual works of mercy toward ourselves.  For example:
 
When I eat enough to support my body in its daily needs, I perform a corporal work of mercy toward myself.  I ready myself for the task of daily living in service to God and to the community.
When I choose to fast from indulging my preferences and whims, I perform a spiritual work of mercy toward myself.  I nourish my spiritual desire and allow good zeal to grow and flourish in my life.
 
I think it’s clear from this that these works of mercy do not end with me; they expand toward others as well.  On the other hand:
If I fast excessively and weaken myself, I may be unable to carry out my daily duties and I may become irritable, so I become a burden those around me.
If I neglect fasting and self-denial, I undermine my spiritual health and the good zeal which seeks to lay down one’s life for others, and this adversely affects those around me.
 
So let us approach this Lenten journey with joy and spiritual longing, with intensity of purpose and a willingness to give of ourselves for one another and for the needs of the world, with the intention of walking with Christ to the Father.