SMU Catholic Weekly Blogs

Why has Ash Wednesday become so important?

Since I have been chaplain, which is about four years now, I have noticed that Ash Wednesday is a big religious day at SMU. This year it falls on Feb. 21.

Sometimes I see students, who are not at Mass every Sunday, but they show up for Ash Wednesday services and they are willing to stand in a long line to get their ashes. I have had students who come late for either our noon liturgy at the Chapel of the Annunciation (at the Neuhoff Catholic Center) or our 5:15 pm liturgy at Perkins Chapel, and --- even though they missed the Mass --- ask me for ashes afterwards. Helping students express their faith in this way has led to one of my own special personal, spiritual experiences at SMU.

The importance of Ash Wednesday in the minds of many Catholics now rivals Christmas and Easter as the holiest and most well-attended liturgies in the church calendar.

Why Ash Wednesday has taken on these dimensions when it is not a holy day of obligation nor a major feast day is an interesting topic of discussion.

One cleric suggested to me that Ash Wednesday is a well-attended liturgy at SMU and elsewhere because it is a particularly “Catholic thing.” However, that seems to belie the fact that other Christian denominations celebrate Ash Wednesday and at SMU the day is marked with the distribution of ashes at non-Catholic services, such as the university ecumenical services, and at Methodist, Lutheran, Episcopalian and even at some non-traditional church services.

Most SMU students by the end of the day on Feb. 21 will have little ash crosses or smudges on their foreheads, it seems to me.

This interest in Ash Wednesday is a good thing. Certainly, we as Christians begin the Lenten season in the right way by getting our ashes and also by fasting --- eating no meat and only one main meal --- on Ash Wednesday. Lent is our penitential period when we prepare ourselves for our holiest day, Easter --- the day we mark to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus the Christ. On the way of the cross, we remember the passion of Jesus.

The name dies cinerum (day of ashes) probably dates from at least the eighth century. On this day all the faithful according to ancient custom are exhorted to approach the altar before the beginning of Mass, and there the priest, deacon or lay minister, dipping his thumb into ashes previously blessed, marks the forehead of each the sign of the cross, saying the words: "Remember that thou art dust and unto dust thou shall return." The ashes used in this ceremony are made by burning the remains of the palms blessed on the Palm Sunday of the previous year.

There can be no doubt that the custom of distributing the ashes to all the faithful arose from a devotional imitation of the practice observed in the case of public penitents. In the books both of the Old and New Testaments of the Bible, the men (Why not women, too?) who repented of their sins bestrewed themselves with ashes and clothed their bodies with sackcloth.

We don’t do the sackcloth thing here at SMU (Does anyone know what sackcloth is?). However, we do take ashes as a sign of our humanity and our repentance for the sins that we have committed as humans.

So Ash Wednesday has become as real visible sign of our religious feelings and yearnings. If you have ashes publicly on your head, it is hard to deny that you are Christian. It is a little act of brave faith in the modern world, I think.

I, as your chaplain, admire your faith and will remain available on Ash Wednesday until the last student has his or her ashes.

My Les Misérables

For some reason, when I was an undergraduate I did not read Victor Hugo’s classic novel (1862), Les Misérables, in any of my numerous courses in literature, and to this date I haven’t read it. That is a shortcoming that I have to correct.

On the plus side, I have been generally aware that the musical based upon the novel was a smashing Broadway hit for 16 years until closing in 2003.  The three most popular musicals of all time are, in order, The Phantom of the Opera, Cats and Les Misérables. After an absence of three years, Les Misérables is back on Broadway for a six month run.

Guilty feelings probably drove me to finally see it recently. For a brief summary, it is set in mid-19th century of French society and examines the nature of good, evil and justice. Jean Valjean, the main character, is an ex-convict (convicted of stealing food for his family) and is known in prison only as number “24601.” Upon his release after 18 years of confinement, Valjean becomes homeless until rescued by the benevolent Bishop Myriel. However, Valjean steals silverware from the bishop and is caught by Inspector Javert.

Bishop Myriel rescues Valjean for the second time, telling the inspector that he gave the silverware to Valjean. In fact, the bishop gives him more and pleads only that Valjean become an honest man.

Valjean goes off to build a distinguished career under an assumed name. Inspector Javert is convinced that Valjean is a criminal at heart, pursues him for 16 years. What happens next, I won’t tell here.

However, I suggest if you don’t read the novel or see the musical you will miss an insight on an important human condition. Telling you this is, you see, part of my own redemption.

Some books and musicals become classics because they tell a story for all time. That is true about the Bible, or most books of it (some are more insightful than others I would honestly have to say).

As I felt guilty about not having read Victor Hugo’s novel, I also had similar feelings about the Bible until forcing myself to read it (by taking courses). I could not imagine myself living my entire life and never having read the Bible or most of it, the most popular books ever.

Sometimes a little guilt can be good for you, particularly if it comes as part of understanding that being an educated person requires being well-read in the best literature ever written.

What is the significance of Advent?

It is not too early to think about Advent --- the time on our liturgical calendar when the color vestments are violet and we symbolically know that Christmas is not far away.

Advent is a Latin expression "ad-venio" that means "to come to." Advent comes this year on Dec. 3. The Advent season is only 21 days. According to church practice since 1907, Advent is a period beginning with the Sunday nearest to the feast of St. Andrew the Apostle (Nov. 30) and embracing four Sundays. The first Sunday may be as early as Nov. 27, and then Advent has twenty-eight days, or as late as Dec. 3, giving the season only 21 days.

With Advent a new ecclesiastical year begins in the Western churches. During this time the faithful are urged to prepare themselves worthily to celebrate the anniversary of the Lord's coming into the world as the incarnate God of love, thus to make their souls fitting abodes for the Redeemer coming in Holy Communion and through grace, and thereby to make themselves ready for His final coming as judge, at death and at the end of the world.

It cannot be determined with any degree of certainty when the celebration of Advent was first introduced into the church. The preparation for the feast of the Nativity of Our Lord (Christmas) was not held before the feast itself existed, and researchers find no evidence before the end of the fourth century, when, according to Duchesne [Christian Worship (London, 1904), 260], Christmas was celebrated throughout the whole church, by some on Dec. 25, by others on Jan. 6.

We read in the Acts of a synod held at Saragossa in 380, whose fourth canon prescribes that from the Dec. 17 to the feast of the Epiphany (Jan. 6) no one should be permitted to absent himself from church. We have two homilies of St. Maximus, Bishop of Turin (415-466), entitled "In Adventu Domini," but he makes no reference to a special time.

By the fifth century a "preparation" period was set aside for Christmas. By the sixth century "Advent" was widely celebrated in Spain. By the eighth century, "Advent" was celebrated by most Christians as a period of fast and abstinence. By the Middle Ages, Advent becomes more or less the liturgical celebration that we have today.

Dupe The Deacon is written by Chaplin Deacon Bronson. Email questions to ccm@smu.edu

How Is Jesus Relevant To Our Lives?

Oh. The answer is a dissertation and I have so little space. It is not usually good to start out with the negatives, but I need to quickly identify the conditions in which we find Jesus is not relevant.

That is, if we see him only as a historical figure 2,000 years ago. If we think that humanity today is somehow fundamentally different from humanity in ancient Palestine. And, if the "I" in us believes it is in complete control. It seems to me that we have the same basic needs today to understand our existence, how it relates with others and all creation, and what sets us apart as a people who have a destiny as opposed to a fate.

Fate is what happens to us, good and bad, that comes along in the journey of life. Destiny is how we order our lives so that no matter what happens to us we end up, as St. Paul says, "Having run the good race and come to the finish line." 

What Jesus did in gathering his disciples was to form a group that pondered what are the important things in life and how a people could attain them by working together. It is not any different today when a group in Catholic campus ministry gets together and asks questions: What does it means to have faith, what is faith comprised of and how do we identify the needs of our present time among all the people?

We teach in baptism classes that we do not reach the end of life’s race singularly. St. Paul did not reach it singularly. All his letters point to working in community. He came to the finish line with the brothers and sisters of the early church. Others took up the baton after him.

Jesus is relevant today when we emulate the pattern of discipleship and servant leadership, identify conditions today that impact humanity adversely and try to do something about them. In this effort we should seek truth (knowledge) and justice.

We should care for the needs of others, show compassion for the poor and suffering, realize that the "I" in us is more concerned about itself and, consequently needs a little reminding that everyone is in the journey of life together. If we participate in our faith community, we can see the potential destiny of all humans to reach a divine relationship with Jesus. That makes Jesus very relevant.

"When should we take a seat if we come late?"

Now I hope no one is planning on coming late. Mass starts at 5 p.m. occasionally, there is a good reason for coming late. When you come late you should find a seat as quickly as you can. Don’t be afraid to go to rows near the front. There are, of course, less distracting times to take a seat: before the Scripture readings, just as we all stand for the Gospel reading, before the Homily, and anytime thereafter. Just quietly take a seat. The important thing is not to gang up in the entrance to the chapel or line up along the walls when there are plenty of spaces in the pews.

Some people have the strange idea that they “own” a particular spot in the pews where they most often sit. And, if it is taken, they grudgingly hang the wall. There is no such thing as ownership of a seat these days. There once was a time long ago when families bought “family pews” and would sit in them every Sunday. It was a money-raising scheme that really wasn’t theologically sound.

Some remembrance of that hangs mysteriously in the minds of older Catholics. However, for modern university students some old ideas should pass completely away. One is the idea that Catholics do not sit in the front pews. Why do you suppose back pews fill up first in Catholic churches? In the Bible Belt, Protestant Churches tend to fill up front in most cases. I invite sociology majors to study that habit and give me some insights as to the reasons why. Or, is it just a myth?