Bread, Wine, Water, Ashes: Symbols

Nearly a week later, and I don't know that I've really put a lot of additional thought into up until now, aside from the thoughts I'd already had. First, something can never be "just a symbol." A symbol is "something visible that by association or convention represents something else that is invisible" (here). When I lived in South Carolina I was discussing baptism with someone who identified as Thoroughly Reformed and she said, "It's just a symbol!" By virtue of its being a symbol, it has something attached to it, whether it's profession of faith or cleansing from all sin and being sealed by the Holy Spirit forever. Christianity is full of tangible symbols, things that represent things to us. These symbols aren't limited by their actual matter or the different things they symbolize.

Bread and wine are symbols, at least for Episcopalians for us. They symbolize a lot of things though. They're the body and blood of Christ. They're elements of a meal that we share together. They're gifts from the community, the community offering itself to God through its resources. They're signs of God's provision for us. Since we relate to God in them, it's important to me (and other) that they be real. Real bread that tastes and looks and feels like bread. Real wine, preferably good wine, that smells like wine and tastes like wine and doesn't make you gag afterward. If you're not in a wine tradition, real, good, grape juice, not stuff that's watered down. It's hard to envision the Eucharist as a feast if you're operating on meager provisions (although it certainly is by merely being God's gift to us, but we need to convey that through symbols we've been given).

These are symbols of grace, and need to be abundant, not cheap or skimpy. That's why I give people large pieces of bread and give them the option to do more than lick the rim of a chalice. God's grace to us is abundant, and there is enough for everyone, and enough for them to not have tiny portions. And that needs to be take into account when planning provisions for worship. It's hard to taste and see that the Lord is good if you can't taste the bread. And yes, you might have to actually chew what you're handed, but that's a sensory experience, God's grace being something that we can experience through a symbol. Wafers might be tidier and more easily managed, but is God tidy or grace easily managed?

Water is a symbol, as discussed briefly above. Most of the time it's a symbol of baptism and forgiveness of sin, sometimes it's mixed with wine, and the comingled liquids symbolize Christ's divinity and humanity. I think water, therefore needs to be abundant, too. I don't like candy-dish fonts, but they can be redeemed somewhat if they're full of water, not just a tiny bit down in the bottom. Fonts are both practical and symbolic; they are the entry to the church and are often there. The font in the Chapel of the Good Shepherd is a great big stone font. Inside it is a ceramic bowl to keep from damaging the stonework. Lately, however, the bowl had had barely water in it. It hasn't been empty, but it hasn't been brimming in abundance. I think that these symbols mean something. A tiny amount of water (especially when you have usually 20+ people remembering their baptism at 3-4 services a day) doesn't go far, or look like it goes far. Abundance of grace...and symbols thereof.

Those are very familiar symbols that we encounter very, very regularly. We have lots of other symbols, but since I was passing them out yesterday, ashes as a symbol come to mind, and this might be a rant, but I don't think so. I don't want an ash smudge, and I don't give an ash smudge. At St. Paul's I used the ball of my thumb after a few people because the symbol was bigger and clearer. Ashes are symbols of our mortality, and as we start Lent they are symbols of our sinfulness. They're to remind us in humility that we are in constant need of (conscious) reconversion, which we focus on during Lent. I made crosses big, bold, and clear. A smudge on the forehead makes it look like you bumped your head at the Olympics (a la English video clip of VP Biden's ash smudge) or that you're just dirty. A dark cross is clearly a marker of Ash Wednesday.

I think symbols need to be clear and acknowledged. If a symbol is downplayed, its weight may not be fully realized. Ashes as a symbol are about mortality and sinfulness, and they are a kind of greeting sometimes. Seeing them on one's own forehead isn't the only way they get seen. Every time I saw someone on the subway or elsewhere last Wednesday, I was reminded that I had ashes on my head and called to mind, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return." And I didn't always call that to mind if I wasn't sure if someone had ashes on their head or their hair was doing something funny.

So, in summary

Yes:

No:

Faith, Foreheads, Father

I got ashes three times yesterday. Once in Union Square, and twice at St. Paul's Chapel. For an hour yesterday I imposed ashes in Union Square with St. Lydia's, so I got ashes before hand. It was neat and very, very cold. We had Sacred Harp singers singing songs about death, which drew people to just watch and listen, and then there were people who got ashes. High point of my time there was when a woman came up for ashes, but asked me about them (I think) in Spanish. She crossed herself and drew on her forehead with her fingers after I didn't understand her. Then I got it and gave her ashes. I was really praying for Pentecost moments the rest of the hour if they were needed. If you click the link to Emily's Blog you can see some of our other high point people who received ashes.

During the time we were outside, though I think we all answered some kind of questions about faith. I was standing there with my little stone pot of ashes and olive oil (Emily and I are not of the same mind about the viscosity of ashes) and there was a couple across from me. I heard the woman say, "Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again," and then I looked her in the eyes as my ears perked up. Then I heard her say, "You should probably ask him," to the man. He came over and the three of us had a discussion of Ash Wednesday and Lent. I should've sent them to get one of the rockin' bookmarks that Rachel made, but I didn't think about it. Neither of them got ashes but they got information. Another couple talked to the girl beside me. The man asked her (while pointing to me), "What is his faith." She replied, "That's a profound question, really." He wanted to know my denomination, but she really wanted him to expound on that. She didn't know what my denomination was and told him that. Then they talked about how some Protestants do observe Lent, starting with ashes on Ash Wednesday. Part of that discussion was his telling her she looked Catholic because of her ashes. Then there was an amusing exchange between the man and wife about life, age, and timeshares.

After that we got coffee and I came back to the Close for a few minutes to rest before putting my cassock on and heading down to St. Paul's Chapel from 5:00-6:00. All I can say about that is wow. One of the things that struck me was the diversity of foreheads that people have! While I'd been imposing ashes at Union Square, I didn't impose as many times. I got to notice the different consistencies of skin, and the different sizes. Very short, very high, narrowish, wide, dry, oily, and all in between. Different people had such different reactions to the ashes, too. Some came up smiling (I tried to have an inviting smile; one that was welcoming without breaking the somber mood of the day), some just came up with a blank, intentional look. As I imposed some people looked at me, some looked down, some looked up. I made eye contact with everyone before imposing ashes. Most of the people replied with "Thank you" and sometimes there was an "amen."

Thinking back on it now is more profound than yesterday. Just thinking about all the people - at both locations - who wanted to start observing a holy Lent somehow or another, regardless of whether they were Catholic, United Methodist, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, college student who grew up getting ashes and might not be in church much, but connected with God yesterday in keeping a tradition of their faith. The diversity of all of them - the construction worker whose scent of concrete made me think about my dad getting home from work when I was wee and he was working construction - to the man and his daughter who came in and said, "It's our first time" before I imposed the ashes. And there were so many ways of "amen" that I heard. It's nice to be reminded visually that God's people exist in all different shapes and colors, and that liturgical traditions manifest themselves in all different kinds of people.

And for those people, the ashes weren't the only symbol. (I'll be blogging on symbols tomorrow or later today.) During orientation small group Br. Blaine said that while we're currently in the discernment for ordination process, people in hospitals at CPE ordain you. By that he meant that people would call you Father or Minister or Pastor or something to that effect...and that in the moment attending to their spiritual needs is more important than having a lengthy dialogue about how you're a seminarian. Yesterday I was a lay person in a cassock, but I was imposing ashes. Four or five people called me father yesterday and it caught me off guard. This is something I'm going to have to stew on for awhile, but it's already giving me thoughts about priests being a symbol to people, whatever that symbol is. Yesterday it had something to do with getting ashes. Who knows what that was, but yeah. Look for more on symbols soon.