Ash Wednesday Laughter

I grew up a good Southern Baptist girl who was taught that she was allergic to anything even remotely Catholic. Like the kid who grows up never having a dog because Mom and Dad didn’t like pets and said that all dogs would give you hives – I never had any inkling about how beautiful and meditative Lent was.



After discovering Ash Wednesday in the United Methodist Church I confess that I am a Lent junkie. One of my infatuations in ministry is doing interesting, creative worship and we go all out on Ash Wednesday. Over the years we’ve painted altar cloths, burned things, played in the sand and made a huge cross out of several hundred pounds of slate tiles from an old church roof!

At our little church we do things in our own ways, in the ways that seem right and good to us. One of the things we do is incorporate a lot of things from other Christian traditions. Over the years, Lent has become a very important season for us.

Being a little “cross denominational” isn’t without its hazards however. We don’t really know how to do anything “by the book.”

I’m sure that there are pretty strict Catholic instructions about burning the previous year’s palm fronds to make the ashes used to mark ourselves. At least there might be suggestions for making the experience a little more successful.

What do we know? We’re non-denominational! We don’t even burn palm fronds! I gave everyone a small piece of paper and encouraged them to write down those things in their lives that are keeping them from being the people God designed them to be. After writing, they brought them to the altar, crumpled them up and threw them into a bowl to be burned and released back to God.

It was a wonderful evening. Very meaningful and I felt so connected to my little faith community. It was just one of those nights, you know? Andrew and Ali took the bowl outside and burned our “sins.” They brought it back and we mixed up the ashes with water to cool them.

I invited everyone to come forward and receive the mark of the ashes – reminding us of our mortality, God’s amazing capacity for second chances, and our capacity for bringing forth new life.

Then something very funny happened.

The people of Open Door Community Church are full of life. They will only be serious for so long, before someone does something silly or goofy. Last night was no different. And, it was me.

I invited everyone to come forward for the imposition of the ashes. Apparently, there wasn’t enough water mixed in with the ashes of our sins.

Ali was the first one in line. I dipped my right thumb into the ash pyx, looked into her eyes and urged her to receive God’s forgiveness and new life. Moving my thumb to her forehead I touched her lightly in the sign of the cross.

Only, I had WAY too many ashes on my thumb. And they were dry. They tumbled down her forehead and slid down her nose. At the end of her nose they took off in flight and make a small black cloud on her breath.

For one second I looked at her in horror. Then, I couldn’t help it. . .I started to laugh. Loudly. I couldn’t stop. She looked confused. I told her what I had done and she started to laugh too. The laughter started to make it’s way down the line of folks who were waiting. Most people not really sure what all the fuss was about, but laughing along anyway!



I suppose there are a lot of churches in which that kind of accident would be unacceptable. There are a lot of churches that wouldn’t put up with a pastor who laughed – out loud! – during the Ash Wednesday service.

Thankfully, I don’t serve any of those churches. I serve a church that is a community of friends who understand that hard times and mistakes are powerful teachers. I serve a community of interesting, smart people who don’t demand conformity in every doctrine, but want a shared commitment to Christ.

I serve a church in which I feel trusted and loved – even when everything doesn't go as planned. I serve a church in which I feel safe to laugh. Even safe enough to laugh at the first person in line on Ash Wednesday who has enough ashes to last for years!

It’s good to be home.