About 350 miles west of Morocco and about 550 miles southwest of
Lisbon, there lies a verdant island, lush with greenery and life.
Scientists now recognize the island as having been formed by an ancient
volcanic explosion. The island was discovered in the year 1418 by one
Captain Joao Zarco, sailing under orders from Prince Henry the
Navigator. He found it virtually impenetrable, so thick was the forest
and growth.
Because the forest was so dense, Captain Zarco named
the island for the Portuguese word for "wood." That word is "madeira."
Then, Captain Zarco set about clearing the land. It was hard work.
Deciding that the only way to clear the entire island was to use fire,
he and his men burned the whole island.
The island of Madeira
burned for seven years. When the fire was out, the entire place was
covered with a fine wood ash. That ash dissolved into the volcanic
ground, combined with the clay and calcium already there, and an
incredibly rich soil resulted, even more fertile than the previous
soil. In fact, this became the same sort of soil which was conducive to
fine wine.
So, people began to grow grapes in the soil! Thus was the beginning
of a fine wine named Madeira. By 1495, it was being produced. It
became, in Europe, the after-dinner drink of choice. George Washington
is said to have drunk a pint a day. Thomas Jefferson toasted the
Declaration of Independence with madeira.
Madeira -- a fine wine, born of burnt ashes in the soil.
On
Ash Wednesday, Christians put ashes on our foreheads. In doing so, we
are following one of the oldest of Christian customs. At one time, not
everyone in the Christian congregation placed ashes on their head, but
only those who were acknowledging and confessing egregious sins. They
made public their confession with these ashes. But in the Middle Ages,
it became the practice for every Christian to submit to the ashes. The
season of Lent became a time of public penitence for the entire church.
Today,
the ashes mean these things, but many more. The ashes are a reminder of
our origin from the earth. "Remember," we say, "that you are dust, and
to dust you shall return." We are not the self-assured, comfortable,
live-forever people that we try so often to look like. We are going to
die, all of us; we know that. Ashes are a sign of that ultimate reality.
The
ashes are also, of course, a sign of sin. We are tainted, stained, by
our constant falsehoods and wrong actions. We are a people who know
better, but who make wrong choices. It was not someone else who made us
do it. It was not the fault of Satan. We were not possessed by demons.
It was not the fault of our parents. It was not the fault of society.
It was not our peer group or the culture around us.
It was us.
We are responsible. We have sinned by our own fault in thought, word,
and deed; by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.
But
today, I propose another meaning for these ashes. Out of these ashes,
these signs of our mortal nature, comes something else. Once we
recognize our own responsibility for wrongdoing, once we acknowledge
our mortal and dusty nature, the ashes also become a sign of fertility.
If
we are truly repentant, and truly cleansed, and open to the reality of
God around us, then we are also fertile, ready to give growth to
greatness.
Out of seven years worth of ashes on the island of
Madeira came one of the finest wines of that time. There is no way the
wine could have been produced without the burning, without the ashes.
In fact, it was the burning that cleared the ground in the first place.
Ash
Wednesday and Lent are, likewise, the burning and clearing of our
Christian lives. We enter a time for confession, for penitence, for
realization of our earthly nature. But this is also a fertile day, a
time for self-examination and self-preparation. Today is getting us
ready for something.
Just as ground is prepared in the Spring
for luscious growth, today the ground of our lives, the soil of our
souls, is being prepared. Maybe through our confession and mortal
acknowledgement, we are emptied, opened, made ready for something. We
will mark our lives with ashes, but they are ashes of fertility and
rich preparation.
In fact, we are preparing our souls for the
presence of God. The dense forest of our complicated lives is too
thick. It is time to burn it away and make ready the fields for new
growth.
Our God awaits our openness, our fertile ground. God
comes into our lives with forgiveness, with deep love - and with the
smooth glory of a fine wine. Yes, Christians receive that wine, too, on
Ash Wednesday. Christians walk to the altar twice. We receive both
ashes and wine, the fine wine of Christ. We receive the sign of our
mortal nature, but we also receive the sign of fertile and abundant
life.
Sam Candler
24 February 2009
Sam Candler is Dean of the Cathedral of St. Philip in Atlanta, Georgia. Contact him at scandler@stphilipscathedral.org.
