Wear the Cross

We have heard it said that in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus pits “inner” against “outer.” We have heard it said that Christian ethics must take a decidedly inward turn. We have heard it said that Christians should be suspicious of material piety and dramatic liturgical practice. Such judgments deem Ash Wednesday liturgies theologically unsupportable. Don’t the rubrics call on us to read out Jesus’ injunction against sackcloth and ashes on fast days (Matt. 6:16–18) and then proceed immediately to disobey it by smearing a cross of ashes on worshipers’ foreheads? Matthew’s Gospel generally—the Sermon on the Mount in particular—does sound the theme of inner/outer. But it identifies no single, simple relationship between them. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus one-ups the scribes and Pharisees by setting higher hedges around the law. Sometimes Jesus declares outward acts to be necessary but not sufficient: one must not murder or commit adultery; one should make a pledge to the church. To make sure we never get close to murder or adultery, kingdom righteousness goes further, to demand a reform of inner attitudes: no anger and contempt, no lust in the heart. To keep us from substituting church contributions for personal reconciliation, kingdom righteousness forbids us to bring temple gifts until we have confronted anyone we have wronged and made amends (Matt. 5:21–32). Sometimes Jesus declares that the outward act is counterindicated: taking vows signals flimsy integrity, indicating that there is not enough to us to keep our word apart from outward sanctions (Matt. 5:33–37). Other times, Jesus commands extravagant outward actions—turning the other cheek, walking the second mile, handing over cloak and coat. But then he goes on to enjoin even more extravagant inner attitudes—love of enemies—as fit expressions of that “higher righteousness” that imitates the heavenly Father’s perfection (Matt. 5:40–48). The refrains of the Ash Wednesday Gospel—”Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them!” “Practice your piety in secret, so that the heavenly Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:1, 4, 6, 18)—are almost liturgical in their rhythms, identifying hypocrisy as a root perversion of discipleship.

So why would we, who have been told to practice our faith in secret, now ask for a cross to be smeared on our foreheads? Aren’t we taking what should be secret, and taking it public? Are we not guilty of the hypocrisy we teach against.

Perhaps, but is it possible God wants us to be reminded this is life is not all there is?

I think it was apapo