Ash Wednesday

So, it’s Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. A day of fast and abstinence. A day when all good Catholics go to mass and get ashes smeared on their heads and become visibly recognizable for what we are: first, the explicit thing - mortal sinners - “remember you are dust and to dust you shall return” - but more obviously for the world at large, it identifies us as Catholic. Ash Wednesday is the only day of the year where it is readily apparent to everyone that sees me that I am a Catholic.

I went to Catholic schools from first grade through college graduation, so for most of my life having the black mark on my head did not make me stand out in any particular way: nearly everyone I encountered on a daily basis showed up on this particular day with a blurry sign of the cross rubbed onto their foreheads. In fact, not having the ashes made people stand out: poor Kara G., the one non-Catholic in my grade school class used to stay home from school on Ash Wednesday (and Halloween, but that’s because her parents considered it a day of devil worship) because she didn’t want to be the only one in class who looked different. Of course, in those same years we used to compare the size and darkness of our marks, as if the larger, darker ones made us more holy (full disclosure: I still try and find a mirror as soon as possible to check out what it looks like). At Notre Dame, there was a little of the same mentality – in the campus ministry circle, anyway, people definitely noticed if you didn’t have the ashes on your head. “Don’t forget it’s Ash Wednesday!” the girls would cheerfully call out, if you weren’t already marked. Freshman year I waited until dorm mass at night to get the ashes, and after a dozen friends pointed out what day it was to me throughout the day I decided that for the next 3 years I would go to a morning mass. Side note: Ash Wednesday was also memorable at ND because every year (and every Friday during Lent), the cafeteria refused to serve meat; leading to virtually the same editorial/ letter to the editor being published in The Observer, about whether this was exclusive to all the non-Catholics on campus. My friend PS used to set up a grill outside the d-hall and offer grilled brats and hotdogs to anyone who wanted them. He explained himself by saying, “Hey, at least this way people are actively choosing not to eat meat, instead of just having it thrust upon them.” Notre Dame: good times.

It wasn’t until I graduated that I realized that in the “real” world, walking around all day long with a black smudge on your head was somewhat unusual. I was working in Chicago (if temping at various crappy office jobs is really work) and for the first time in my life having the ashes on my forehead actually made me feel like I stood out – people on the L did a double take, the strangers I worked with that week seemed confused about why the surly temp had dirt on his head – but no one asked and I didn’t volunteer. It was somehow empowering to stand out in that way; I felt the slightest bit like an old testament prophet: a witness to the world (which is silly, because how can you be a witness if people don’t know what you’re witnessing about?). But at that point, I was just one year out of ND and it was still easy to feel totally connected to my faith and my religious convictions.

Well, this morning I got the sign of the cross marked on my head and I’ve spent that day marked for what I am: a Catholic in a secular world. And instead of feeling self-righteously proud (well, I might still feel a little of that), I’ve been wondering why I still identify myself so strongly as Catholic when I find myself frustrated by so many of the things that the Church does. And that it is what I will fast and pray about this lent: my own Catholic identity. Because I identify myself as a husband and a father and a Catholic. The presence of my wife and my son make the first two identities easy to understand, but the last of them takes some puzzling over. In some ways I identify myself against the things that the secular world values (no TV for the kid!) – that’s why wearing the ashes is still a powerful symbol for me – but if I am honest I must confess that I subscribe to mostly secular humanistic values while questioning many things that the Church teaches. But I am still Catholic. Hopefully over the next forty plus days I will have an epiphany of why this is true. If I do, I will let you all know.

In the meantime, happy Ash Wednesday; and as my grade school religious ed. teacher, Sr. Mary Mark, would bark, “No meat and no eating between meals!”