The privilege of Lent provides an opportunity to adjust a little more to the glory of God. On Ash Wednesday we link with the man who asked Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?" (Mark 10:17). The splendor of heaven is offered to all, but it is not granted to all without a true longing for it. That desire begins with recognition of the brevity of life on earth and cooperation with God’s grace.
The harmony of history is an indication that God wants His yoke of obedience to be easy and its burden light (cf. Matthew 11:30). If it becomes difficult and heavy, the conspiring agent is pride. The forty days of Lent belong to the elegant symmetry by which God shows His graciousness: for forty days Moses was on the mount to receive the Law, and again after the sin of the Golden Calf; Elijah was on Horeb; Jonah was with the Ninevites; Ezekiel lay on his side in penance; Jesus was with Satan in the wilderness, and spent the same length of days teaching His disciples after He rose from the dead.
On Wednesday, the imposition of ashes is a primal declaration of mortality. The death of anyone who truly desires to be part of God’s plan telescopes the forty days into Ash Wednesday and Easter. That became clear once again this past week with the death of one of our rectory family, Argentina Rivera. She had come to this country from Guayaquil in Ecuador and reared a family here, including her devoted daughter, Janet, who also assisted in our rectory and now serves the Archdiocese. Argentina was well enough to rejoice in Janet’s beautiful wedding. For many years Argentina helped our parish in countless ways, keeping the rectory in order, recording accounts, and lovingly taking care of the sacred vestments and altar linens. For her this was a work of love and not a burden. She made our rectory laundry room into a small shrine with images of many saints who had worked for the Lord. At the vigil on the night before her funeral, a large number of family and friends sang beautiful Spanish hymns. Her needlework was masterful, and every time my cassock loses a button I shall remember how much Argentina was like the disciple who died in Joppa: “The grieving widows who were her friends showed St. Peter ‘coats and garments which Dorcas made while she was with them’ ” (Acts 9:39).
May these quickly passing forty days make us worthy of the love of our friends here and the love of God above. As the friends of Argentina sang, “Que los Ángeles en coro te reciban / En la ciudad santa de Jerusalén . . . May the choirs of angels receive you in the holy city of Jerusalem.”
Father George W. Rutler is the pastor of the Church of our Saviour in New York City. His latest book, Cloud of Witnesses: Dead People I Knew When They Were Alive, is available from Crossroads Publishing.
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