The English language is ever-evolving, with new words constantly entering the Oxford English Dictionary. For example, during Covid, the expression ‘binge watching’ came into being. With lockdown in place there was little for many to do save to sit on sofas to watch endless box sets on the television. Another addition is ‘selfie’, a self-portrait photograph or short video taken at arm’s length with a smartphone or digital camera.

Lent is an opportunity to take a self-portrait of ourselves and consider the result carefully. What do we see? Are we comfortable in our own skin? Are we aware of fault? Can we trust ourselves to come to an honest conclusion, or in modern slang, ‘to mark our own homework’? Of course, family or friends can be asked to give an opinion. A few would doubtless be only too happy to tell us bluntly where we are lacking, but most will fear to give offence.

The only means of knowing what others think of us would be to imagine reading our own obituary. What might the writer say? Obituary writers feel more at liberty to tell the unvarnished truth once the subject is no longer alive. This has one an obvious drawback. Should we ever have the opportunity to read our own obituary, we will no longer be in a position to learn of or remedy our shortcomings.

There are always exceptions, notably in the case of Alfred Nobel. Born in Stockholm he later embarked on many business ventures, most notably owning a major manufacturer of cannons and other armaments. Nobel’s most famous invention was dynamite, an explosive he patented in 1867. Later, a shed at his factory used for preparation of dynamite exploded, killing five people, including Nobel’s younger brother Emil. A French newspaper mistakenly confused Alfred for his younger brother and published Alfred’s obituary, which called him a “merchant of death” for inventing dynamite. The article so disconcerted Nobel that he changed his will to give a substantial legacy to found the Nobel Prizes including the peace prize.

Nobel was given a rare opportunity to remedy his faults. Lent is our opportunity to do likewise, to acknowledge our sins, seek forgiveness, and turn back to God.

Part of the homily delivered by Rev Canon Richard Grosse at our Ash Wednesday service today. The readings were Isaiah 58.1–12, Psalm 51.1–18 (BCP) and Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21.

Original photo by Manpreet Rattu on Unsplash, cropped to change its aspect ratio.

The Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia, born in 1901, was the youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas the second, the last sovereign of Imperial Russia.

When Anastasia was thirteen, she was given a ‘Brownie’ box camera, first invented some ten years previously. As a precocious teenager, she stood herself in front of a mirror and clicked the camera in her hands. Having had the photo developed she sent it to a friend. In an accompanying letter she wrote. “I took this picture of myself looking at the mirror. It was very hard because my hands were trembling.” What Anastasia had produced was the first self-portrait of herself. It may have been the last, as tragically she was murdered with her family in July 1918, during the course of the Russian Revolution.

Advances in technology have meant that making a self-portrait has never been easier. During the 1970s, the instant Polaroid camera became available, but this has now been superseded by mobile phone cameras. Now, along with the ‘Brownie’ box camera, the term ‘self-portrait’ is also obsolete. The word ‘selfie’, meaning taking an image of oneself by means of a mobile phone, has now entered the dictionary.

Today marks the beginning of Lent. Lent is an opportunity to take a selfie and then to examine it critically. What might we see? Imagine like Anastasia, sending that portrait to a friend. What might that friend honestly say about us?

In addition, Ash Wednesday is a time to address the elephant in the room. We are confronted with advertisements of cures and remedies claiming to take years off our life and to make us feel younger. But as the hymn says, “Time like an ever-rolling stream bears all its sons away”. The word “death” is tiptoed around. In such situations, many individuals prefer to use the terms “passed on” or “taken from us”. In short, we fail to accept that time on earth is only finite. Ash Wednesday brings us up short. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Our self-portrait before us, along with knowledge of a day of judgement, our shortcomings and our mortality, might prompt us to penitence. An outward sign of penitence that we are offering today is an ‘Imposition of the Ashes’ [the mark of the cross applied to the forehead, using a paste of olive oil and the ashes prepared by burning palm crosses from the previous year], either self-imposed or applied by someone else after receipt of the sacraments.

Grant us Lord the wisdom and grace to use aright the time that is left to us here on earth. Lead us to repent of our sins, the evil we have done and the good we have not done and strengthen us to follow the way that leads to the fullness of eternal life.

Amen.

Photo by Alexei Maridashvili on Unsplash

In the service that Lyn Smalridge carefully crafted for Methodist Morning Worship on the fourth Sunday in Advent, he incorporated three reflections, the last of which we’ve printed below, but we encourage you to read the whole story, available at this link:

In the twelfth century, Bernard of Clairvaux, who was the founder of the Cistercian order of monks, said Christ comes to us in three different ways: firstly, in Bethlehem at Christmas; secondly, at the end of the age; thirdly, in the lives of believers every single day.

So, in these weeks leading up to Christmas, we reflect on the Advent of the past – the Incarnation – and on the Advent of the future – when Christ returns in glory – but we also need to be aware of the Advent now! Here! In the present!

At some point this Christmas in our house we will probably watch again for the umpteenth time the film Love Actually. And you will remember how Billy Mack an aging rock star, brilliantly played by Bill Nighy, tries to make a comeback by recording a version of the old Troggs song Love is all around: “I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes, Love that’s all around me and so the feeling grows” Except that, in Billy Mack’s version, he sings “Christmas is all around”.

But, in a very real sense, love is all around. Because Christ is all around, in every moment; because, as Father Richard Rohr says, “We cannot not be in the presence. The presence is infinite, always, everywhere and forever.”

The problem is that we are not present to the presence! We are somewhere else – living in the past, or worrying about the future – and missing Jesus in the here and now.

The end of this Advent season can be full of pressures: “Will that Amazon delivery come in time?”; “Did I remember to order the turkey?”; “I got a card from … but haven’t sent one back!” In all the busyness, tinsel and lights, we can miss out on Advent now!

So, for now, let’s pause and take a moment to experience the Eternal Advent, the Advent of now and always; take a moment to be still and be present to the Presence. God is incarnate in every moment, not just at Christmas. Emmanuel – God with us – Jesus – truly is all around. Love is all around!

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash.