Friday, March 7, 2014

Dust thou art...

Our Youth Choir rehearsed on the afternoon of Ash Wednesday. On a whim, I had them get out the BCP and locate the Ash Wednesday service. Volunteers among the children read aloud the first two pages of it, down to the imposition of ashes, and we talked about it.

After the Lessons, the service has what I call a "Dearly Beloved" statement (the first words of the Marriage service, which begin an explanation of why we have gathered. Many Anglican services include such a statement, and Ash Wednesday is one). In this case it is "Dear people of God..." but the intent is the same: it is an explanation of why we observe Lent, and why we begin with this liturgy:
I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word. (BCP p. 265)

My whim arose from a sense that children do not attend this service. I asked: only one of the choristers had ever been to an Ash Wednesday service. And when we had it later on, there were no children that I saw. There were several college-age young adults, but no one younger. And there was a parent who always brings her infant child to church, who may well have been there with her.

One of the results of this was apparent as we talked in the rehearsal: they were appalled at the concept that "you are dust, and to dust you will return" -- that is, that we are all going to die. My impression is that no one had ever suggested the idea to them. One of the girls in particular was very upset. "I don't want to think about death. It is horrible."

Yes, it is.

And our culture does not want to think of it. And that brings me to my point:

These children, all of them from active church families, do not usually attend anything beyond Sunday Eucharist, Christian Formation class, and our once-a-year choral evensong. With a few exceptions, they are not at the Great Vigil of Easter, nor the services on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, nor Ash Wednesday.

Yes, Wednesday is a school night. If the children come to choir in the afternoon and then the liturgy shortly after, it will be maybe 8:30 by the time they get home, with homework still on the agenda. Many of them also have other activities: dance class, volleyball practice, show choir to name three.

I am not a parent, so I cannot fully understand. But it seems to me that it would send a message for a parent to say: "Ash Wednesday is more important than homework." Or if she said to the coach, "My daughter is not going to be at practice tonight. She has a special church service she must attend."

That would be incredibly counter-cultural.

Perhaps the issue is that our parents, deep down, consider their child's progress in school and their socialization and development in after-school activities more important than their spiritual growth.

And that is a challenge for us all.

But it is hard, precisely because Ash Wednesday is countercultural. These choir parents are amazing people, the best group of parents I have ever worked with. Our director of Christian Formation, herself a choir parent, has tried to address this problem. For several years, she sponsored a dinner between choir rehearsal and the Ash Wednesday liturgy to encourage families to stay. Many did -- for the dinner, but not for the service.

Perhaps there is something to this that I do not understand at all.

----
Partly because of the girl who rightly appreciated the enormity of the statement "You are dust and to dust you shall return," I did talk about the rest of the story: Yes, we will die. But Jesus died too. He overcame death, and because of him, we will live forever.

From the prayer consecrating the ashes (BCP p. 265):
... that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

[Edit: see the next posting in this blog for some second thoughts]

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