Sermon Illustrations for Ash Wednesday (2021)
Illustration
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
A man was praying with his minister about his struggle with sin. He prayed a prayer the pastor had heard many times before. “Lord, take the cobwebs out of my life.” Just as he said this the pastor interrupted, “Kill the spider, Lord.”
Repentance is more than just regret that you got caught or that things went poorly. God’s thoughts about repentance and his people are clearly seen in the words of Joel. “Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing.” Repentance is about a genuine, inward turning to the Lord and leaving behind the ways of sin. C.S. Lewis once wrote, “We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.”
God’s people, in the time of Joel, were called to repent. God’s people are called today to repent as well. Will we leave behind the life of sin? Will we turn from the wide road that seems right a man to take the narrow one?
Bill T.
* * *
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
The prophet Joel is an amazing poet, and in the first two verses he accomplishes an amazing dispsy-doodle, which not only describes a current event of his day, but also symbolizes with stark images the eschatological turnabout which is the prophet’s real intent.
His poem begins at daybreak. Following the dark of night, day normally dawns bright and brings with it hope. A new day has begun when work can be done in the fields. The first hour of the day is called the golden hour by advertisers because it is so beautiful and reveals deep detail in the landscape, that it is an ideal time for filming.
There is no film crew when Joel speaks, but had there been the footage would have been dramatic. Instead of bright, revealing sunlight, there would have been a shift in the music to something dark and brooding because this dawn brings with it darkness, gloom, clouds and fog. Instead of light spreading over the mountains, darkness reveals something frightening -- clouds of locusts covering the surface of the land, destroying crops, destroying life, destroying hope. There was no warning — and no fighting it. The devastation was complete and whatever hope there had been evaporated.
The people would have suffered greatly following this catastrophic event: famine, starvation, diseases, death. Now Joel speaks to the day of the Lord. Everyone says they pine for the day of the Lord. How wonderful it will be. What a great day! If only the day of the Lord would arrive, setting things right, putting evildoers in their place, and elevating us who have been faithful into the spotlight.
Except, Joel says, what if our actions haven’t matched our words? What if we said we loved humanity, and instead, during the recent pandemic, our actions spoke only of self-preservation and selfish hoarding. What if we said we loved the Lord, and yet ignored supporting God’s church in hard times? What if we chose lies that suited us when it came to what we wanted to do, instead of truths that challenged us to greater efforts?
Suddenly the day of the Lord doesn’t sound so wonderful, at least for us backsliders. Joel was telling the people that the day of the Lord will come unexpectedly like a plague of locusts, and many people who thought of themselves as insiders will find themselves out in the cold. That’s why this is a great scripture for Ash Wednesday. As we begin this season of Lent, with its call for honest reflection, repentance, and renewal, let us call to mind the words of John Donne (1572-1631.), a man whose youthful extravagances would finally give way to sober reflection and repentance, as epitomized in one of his greatest poems, Holy Sonnet 7:
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go,
All whom the flood did, and fire shall, o'erthrow,
All whom war, death, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance, hath slain, and you whose eyes,
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space;
For, if above all these, my sins abound,
'Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace,
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,
Teach me how to repent; for that's as good
As if thou hadst seal'd my pardon with thy blood.
Frank R.
* * *
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
Commenting on 5:21, Martin Luther claims that in bearing our sin Christ became the greatest of all sinners:
And all the proponents saw this, that Christ was to become the greatest thief, murderer, robber, desecrator, blasphemer, etc. there has ever been anywhere in the world. (Luther’s Works, Vol26, p.277.)
He did after all bear the sins of the whole world.
Modern Catholic theologian Thomas Merton says about this day that “Ash Wednesday is full of joy... The source of all sorrow is the illusion that of ourselves we are anything but dust.” Why is it joyful to know this? Luther tells us in another way:
All our sins are forgotten: He takes no note of the sins of the past nor those of the present. In short, we are in a realm of mercy, where are only forgiveness and reconciliation. The heavens are now open. (Complete Sermons, Vol.4/1, p.136.)
Mark E.
* * *
2 Corinthians 5:20--6:10
How difficult is it for you to follow the precepts of your faith? Where do you stumble, deny, become apathetic or lose heart? Paul’s call to us is to remember to live into our faith no matter the circumstances in our lives. He speaks of the things that happened to him and the faithful of the first century….”in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger…” Those may not be our experiences. But the pandemic and the physical separation from our communities of faith can cause us to feel less connected to neighbor and God, less enlivened in our faith. It need not be that way, but sometimes it is. As an extrovert, I crave the energy of the physical presence of fellow worshippers. Virtual worship is not the same. Yet, as Paul reminds us, we still have access to God through, “… purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left…” This Lenten season lets cling to that promise and move into God’s embrace and presence, no matter our circumstance.
Bonnie B.
* * *
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Throughout the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenges his listeners to not be hypocritical. With respect to fasting, praying, and giving, Jesus urges his listeners to not be as the hypocrites who do things to be noticed by others. That’s what’s at the heart of hypocrisy, isn’t it? The desire for others to see something that isn’t there.
I found this old, but true story. The Queen Mary was the largest ship to cross the oceans when it was launched in 1936. Through four decades and a world war, she served until she was retired as a floating hotel and museum in Long Beach, California.
During the conversion into a hotel her three massive smokestacks were taken off to be scraped down and repainted. But, on the dock they crumbled. Nothing was left of the 3/4-inch steel plate from which the stacks had been formed. All that remained were more than thirty coats of paint that had been applied over the years. The steel had rusted away.
The great smokestacks on the old ship were not really as they appeared. That’s not good for a ship to be hotel, but its far worse for followers of Jesus. Seventeenth century British minister John Mason once wrote, “A hypocrite is the picture of a saint; but his paint shall be washed off, and he shall appear in his own colors.”
May what we do, “be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
Bill T.
* * *
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
This scripture seems to present us with a slam dunk. Look at those hypocritical folks, blowing trumpets so everyone knows they’re giving big bucks to the temple while moaning and gasping so everyone knows how much they suffer when they fast.
Okay, Jesus said this, so he’s right. That goes without saying. And yet I can’t help thinking of so many Ash Wednesday sermons over the decades of my ministry that were blunted by the excesses of Fat Tuesday and the leadup to Lent! In Los Angeles we ate tamales, using up the fat in our houses. Living near South Bend, Indiana we ate paczki’s. In Middle Pennsylvania, it was the all you can eat pancake and sausage dinner. All that excess turned Lent into more of a prayer-filled antacid that after a few days became a countdown to Easter Day excesses.
Yet it is hard to be moderate the year round. It seems like we need overeating festivals, or at least well tell ourselves so.
Frank R.
A man was praying with his minister about his struggle with sin. He prayed a prayer the pastor had heard many times before. “Lord, take the cobwebs out of my life.” Just as he said this the pastor interrupted, “Kill the spider, Lord.”
Repentance is more than just regret that you got caught or that things went poorly. God’s thoughts about repentance and his people are clearly seen in the words of Joel. “Return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing.” Repentance is about a genuine, inward turning to the Lord and leaving behind the ways of sin. C.S. Lewis once wrote, “We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.”
God’s people, in the time of Joel, were called to repent. God’s people are called today to repent as well. Will we leave behind the life of sin? Will we turn from the wide road that seems right a man to take the narrow one?
Bill T.
* * *
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
The prophet Joel is an amazing poet, and in the first two verses he accomplishes an amazing dispsy-doodle, which not only describes a current event of his day, but also symbolizes with stark images the eschatological turnabout which is the prophet’s real intent.
His poem begins at daybreak. Following the dark of night, day normally dawns bright and brings with it hope. A new day has begun when work can be done in the fields. The first hour of the day is called the golden hour by advertisers because it is so beautiful and reveals deep detail in the landscape, that it is an ideal time for filming.
There is no film crew when Joel speaks, but had there been the footage would have been dramatic. Instead of bright, revealing sunlight, there would have been a shift in the music to something dark and brooding because this dawn brings with it darkness, gloom, clouds and fog. Instead of light spreading over the mountains, darkness reveals something frightening -- clouds of locusts covering the surface of the land, destroying crops, destroying life, destroying hope. There was no warning — and no fighting it. The devastation was complete and whatever hope there had been evaporated.
The people would have suffered greatly following this catastrophic event: famine, starvation, diseases, death. Now Joel speaks to the day of the Lord. Everyone says they pine for the day of the Lord. How wonderful it will be. What a great day! If only the day of the Lord would arrive, setting things right, putting evildoers in their place, and elevating us who have been faithful into the spotlight.
Except, Joel says, what if our actions haven’t matched our words? What if we said we loved humanity, and instead, during the recent pandemic, our actions spoke only of self-preservation and selfish hoarding. What if we said we loved the Lord, and yet ignored supporting God’s church in hard times? What if we chose lies that suited us when it came to what we wanted to do, instead of truths that challenged us to greater efforts?
Suddenly the day of the Lord doesn’t sound so wonderful, at least for us backsliders. Joel was telling the people that the day of the Lord will come unexpectedly like a plague of locusts, and many people who thought of themselves as insiders will find themselves out in the cold. That’s why this is a great scripture for Ash Wednesday. As we begin this season of Lent, with its call for honest reflection, repentance, and renewal, let us call to mind the words of John Donne (1572-1631.), a man whose youthful extravagances would finally give way to sober reflection and repentance, as epitomized in one of his greatest poems, Holy Sonnet 7:
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go,
All whom the flood did, and fire shall, o'erthrow,
All whom war, death, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance, hath slain, and you whose eyes,
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space;
For, if above all these, my sins abound,
'Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace,
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,
Teach me how to repent; for that's as good
As if thou hadst seal'd my pardon with thy blood.
Frank R.
* * *
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
Commenting on 5:21, Martin Luther claims that in bearing our sin Christ became the greatest of all sinners:
And all the proponents saw this, that Christ was to become the greatest thief, murderer, robber, desecrator, blasphemer, etc. there has ever been anywhere in the world. (Luther’s Works, Vol26, p.277.)
He did after all bear the sins of the whole world.
Modern Catholic theologian Thomas Merton says about this day that “Ash Wednesday is full of joy... The source of all sorrow is the illusion that of ourselves we are anything but dust.” Why is it joyful to know this? Luther tells us in another way:
All our sins are forgotten: He takes no note of the sins of the past nor those of the present. In short, we are in a realm of mercy, where are only forgiveness and reconciliation. The heavens are now open. (Complete Sermons, Vol.4/1, p.136.)
Mark E.
* * *
2 Corinthians 5:20--6:10
How difficult is it for you to follow the precepts of your faith? Where do you stumble, deny, become apathetic or lose heart? Paul’s call to us is to remember to live into our faith no matter the circumstances in our lives. He speaks of the things that happened to him and the faithful of the first century….”in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger…” Those may not be our experiences. But the pandemic and the physical separation from our communities of faith can cause us to feel less connected to neighbor and God, less enlivened in our faith. It need not be that way, but sometimes it is. As an extrovert, I crave the energy of the physical presence of fellow worshippers. Virtual worship is not the same. Yet, as Paul reminds us, we still have access to God through, “… purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left…” This Lenten season lets cling to that promise and move into God’s embrace and presence, no matter our circumstance.
Bonnie B.
* * *
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Throughout the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenges his listeners to not be hypocritical. With respect to fasting, praying, and giving, Jesus urges his listeners to not be as the hypocrites who do things to be noticed by others. That’s what’s at the heart of hypocrisy, isn’t it? The desire for others to see something that isn’t there.
I found this old, but true story. The Queen Mary was the largest ship to cross the oceans when it was launched in 1936. Through four decades and a world war, she served until she was retired as a floating hotel and museum in Long Beach, California.
During the conversion into a hotel her three massive smokestacks were taken off to be scraped down and repainted. But, on the dock they crumbled. Nothing was left of the 3/4-inch steel plate from which the stacks had been formed. All that remained were more than thirty coats of paint that had been applied over the years. The steel had rusted away.
The great smokestacks on the old ship were not really as they appeared. That’s not good for a ship to be hotel, but its far worse for followers of Jesus. Seventeenth century British minister John Mason once wrote, “A hypocrite is the picture of a saint; but his paint shall be washed off, and he shall appear in his own colors.”
May what we do, “be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
Bill T.
* * *
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
This scripture seems to present us with a slam dunk. Look at those hypocritical folks, blowing trumpets so everyone knows they’re giving big bucks to the temple while moaning and gasping so everyone knows how much they suffer when they fast.
Okay, Jesus said this, so he’s right. That goes without saying. And yet I can’t help thinking of so many Ash Wednesday sermons over the decades of my ministry that were blunted by the excesses of Fat Tuesday and the leadup to Lent! In Los Angeles we ate tamales, using up the fat in our houses. Living near South Bend, Indiana we ate paczki’s. In Middle Pennsylvania, it was the all you can eat pancake and sausage dinner. All that excess turned Lent into more of a prayer-filled antacid that after a few days became a countdown to Easter Day excesses.
Yet it is hard to be moderate the year round. It seems like we need overeating festivals, or at least well tell ourselves so.
Frank R.
