Sacks

There once was a man who found a simple job. He was hired to go into the barn, pick up a sack of grain, and carry it into town. He was only required to carry one sack of grain a day, and, after his first day on the job, he said, “this is the simplest job I’ve ever had!”While making his way into town, he greeted neighbors and thought about all the blessings of his life.

After a few weeks on the job, however, he began to think of ways to do things differently. His first idea was to not only carry the one sack assigned for the day, but also carry the sack for tomorrow. That way, he reasoned, he could get ahead or maybe even take the next day off.

It worked a few times, but the weight distracted from those he passed along the way, and blessings were the furthest things from his mind. Still, it's worth it, he reasoned, until he hurt his back. He needed not only the next day to recover, but also the day after that. When he returned, he was behind. To catch up, he needed to carry the sack of yesterday, along with the one for today, never mind the one for tomorrow.

Under the weight of too many sacks, he realized he had made a simple job complicated, difficult, and painful. Eventually, the man returned to the simple task of carrying the day’s sack only.

Ashes

“Why are you here,” asked the minister, as she began her Ash Wednesday homily. “Is it for the ashes?”

It was one of those set-up questions where she was going to challenge conventional thinking. Of course we came for the ashes. Having ashes placed on our foreheads, with the words “Thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return,” is the way we inaugurate Lent, the season when we reflect and realign our lives. Some, also give up chocolate.

As expected, she went on to point out that God really doesn’t care about such practices. Outward and visible signs get old for God. God’s more concerned with what's going on inside. In fact, in certain denominations, the scripture assigned to the Ash Wednesday service is all about not making a show of your religion. Even as a child, I was confused by the mixed messages.

Sitting there last night, though, I still knew the answer was “yes.” I did come for the ashes, but not the ones administered on my forehead. I came because of the ashes I’ve created. Whether through the fires of unkind thoughts or comments, self-centered behavior, or an overwhelming need to feel good-enough, I've left piles of ashes all over the place. We all have.

Lent is a time to admit what we have done or left undone, to look anew at the ways we have not lived the lives God hoped we might, and then turn our sight toward the end of the season where grace abounds. But last night, it was all about the ashes. They’re why I came.

Connecting the Dots

My sister and I used to play Connect-the-Dots, a game where you draw lines between dots arranged in a grid, the winner being the one who completes the most squares. A step above the numbered dots on a restaurant’s children’s menu where, if you follow the order, it creates an image of a spaceship or dinosaur. At fifty-seven, I thought such games were a thing of the past, but recently I realized how often I still connect the dots. We all do, and maybe it’s time to stop.

·      Your boss asks to meet later in the afternoon, which causes you to imagine what he or she wants to talk about. Maybe you’ve done something wrong, or someone has complained. Walking away from the conversation, where you were praised for something you did well, you can only shake our head in disbelief about where you let your mind go. Dots are endless.

·      Seeing a couple engaged in a heated conversation at a nearby table, you think their marriage is in trouble, that one of them has done something unforgivable, that this is the beginning of the end, only to find they’re discussing the recent election. Dots are misleading.

·      Hearing someone has lost his or her job, you wonder what they did wrong and imagine scenarios - ranging from insubordination to embezzlement, alcoholism to harassment - which could justify the firing, only to learn the company was bought by another and the staffing changes were due to redundancies. Dots are a waste of time.

·      You awaken with a piercing headache and wonder all morning if there’s something significant wrong. Working through a long list of illnesses which could cause such pain, you eventually remember drinking little or no water the day before and realize you’re dehydrated. Dots are distracting.

·      Your spouse is uncharacteristically silent in the morning, or a friend looks at you funny or not at all, and you spend the rest of the day wondering what you’ve done wrong, only to find that they slept poorly or were distracted by something having nothing to do with us. Dots lead us astray.

Connecting the dots can explain or make sense of a world that’s often bewildering. Connecting the dots can help explain the confusing behavior of others. In our desperation for sense and understanding, however, we connect dots that have no business being connected. Perhaps we need to let the dots stand on their own and trust the world doesn’t need our help drawing lines.