Ash Wednesday 2015

Imagine, if you would, a professional baseball player… let’s say it’s Matt Holliday… He’s just had batting practice and he’s leaving the clubhouse. On the way out, two teammates get his attention. The first one says, “You know Matt, I’ve always thought there was something special about your swing, and I was watching you at batting practice and I think I’ve figured out what you’re doing that’s so right. Want to grab a bite and I’ll tell you what you do really well?” The next guy says, “Hey, Matt, I was watching you at B.P. and… hey man, you’re a fantastic ballplayer and I don’t mean to butt in, but I think I noticed a flaw in your swing. Want to grab dinner and talk about it?”

Which will he choose?



I don’t know Matt Holliday, but I’ll bet a hundred bucks against a nickel that he’s leaving with the second guy; he’s going to be more interested in hearing about the weakness in his swing than about the strength. And if you take that bet, you’re going to lose a nickel. But you wouldn’t take that bet, because you know that anybody in Holliday’s position is going to be fanatically interested in spotting weaknesses in his swing. And it’s obvious why. That’s the only way to get where he is. Lots of ballplayers are willing to live with ‘good enough’ or ‘better than average.’ They don’t wear the birds and bat, or any other major league uniform. But if Matt Holliday believes that you’ve spotted a flaw in his swing, you have just become the most interesting person in the universe to Matt Holliday. And is he bummed out about it? Does he lament the revelation of his own imperfection? Heck no. He’s excited, overjoyed... because this means that he can get better.

A professional golfer looking for a trainer has no use for the majority of coaches, who will look at that professional form and say "wow, you're amazing, looks perfect to me." She'll hire the one who looks at her form and says "yeah, I see some problems there." The ones who tell her she's perfect are of no interest. The one who accuses her of a fault is her new best friend.

This is true of athletes and musicians and researchers, of farmers and businesspeople and mechanics. The ones who are really serious about excellence will always be more interested in their mistakes than their successes, more focused on their weaknesses than their strengths. Because that’s how you get better. It isn't because they’re negative people, or because they think they’re no good; it’s simply because that’s how you get better. This will be true of any activity or undertaking. If I held out two envelopes to any of you parents and offered you the choice between the one that reveals something you do right as a parent, and the one that reveals something you do wrong as a parent, there’s not one of you who wouldn’t immediately reach for the second.

And that is one good reason why Catholicism focuses us so often on our sins. It's not like that's the whole story: there’s a time to look past our faults, a time for simple encouragement and praise. One of the messages I find myself giving most often in Confession is, simply, “you’re doing okay.” We need to know that if we’re really trying to follow Jesus, then His strength will more than make up for our weakness. We need to know that our own brokenness is nothing next to the power of His mercy and salvation.

But we can’t say we’re trying if we aren’t even interested in getting better. And we can’t pretend to be interested in getting better if we avoid dealing with what’s holding us back.

Let a coach at school declare that from now on, he will only give positive feedback, that in order to be uplifting and positive, henceforth practice will consist only of praise, and never correction… come on. You’ll have parents bringing torches and pitchforks to run him out. But let a pastor take that approach in church, and watch the accolades roll in.

Well, Christians, let’s assume that we’re here because we’re serious about this endeavor of following Christ. Let’s assume that it’s the most important thing in our lives. Even if we have to admit that we don’t always act like it’s the most important thing in our lives, well, at least we wish that were true. Let’s acknowledge that being a disciple of Jesus is not something to do as a hobby, not something to do half-heartedly or half…any-other-body-part. This is the varsity. We fanatically pursue our weaknesses. We are extremely interested in our faults. And to face them is not depressing or discouraging. It’s exactly the opposite. If you actually were able to point out to Matt Holliday a flaw in his swing, you’d be his favorite person that day. And he’d be overjoyed to have discovered it, and grateful beyond words to you for pointing it out. Because to find a fault is to open up the possibility of being better. Yesterday, before I knew about that fault, I was as good as I knew how to be. Now that a fault has been exposed, I know I can be better than I have been. That’s tremendous, joyful news!

When it comes to religion, the fact is, people are starving for something beyond fluffy self-esteem-building. Ash Wednesday proves it, every year. There are people who ignore church almost every Sunday - when they are commanded to keep it holy - but on this not-holy-day-of-obligation they finally darken the door. It’s the day of ashes that attracts them most. You also see that attraction in Lenten penances. I know people who break any Commandment without a second thought, never come to Mass, and don’t believe half of what the Church teaches, but every single Lent they get all excited about ‘giving something up.’ If that’s you, take a moment to fill your heart with gratitude to God for working in your life this way! 

And I love the way this contradicts a stereotype about Catholicism. People criticize any talk of sin and sacrifice, they say penitence is a turn-off, that to grow the Church we should get over all that and put more effort into telling everyone that they’re already just perfect and don’t change a thing. But for many Catholics who have fallen away almost completely, that’s the one thing they haven’t abandoned. It's the ashes and penance that attract. Because they are masochists? No. Because deep down, they are captivated by the promise that we can be better.

I said this is one good reason the Church asks us to face our sins; it's not the most important. Salvation is not accomplished by self-improvement. A first and more critical reason is the need for contrition that opens the way for the mercy of God. But contrition demands conversion, and conversion means change. We never say "I'm sorry" without also meaning to amend our lives.

May the Holy Spirit reveal to us some call to repentance and conversion this Lent. Not just a generic guilty feeling of “I should be better,” because what good is that? But a real and specific and personal call to conversion. I hope we all have that experience this Lent, of God revealing to us, “you know, you have some flaws, and if you let Me I can show them to you,” and of responding with eagerness and joy and gratitude, eagerness to fix what’s wrong, joy in knowing things can be better than they have been, gratitude that God loves us enough to teach us and even to discipline us. That’s why the season of penitence is a season of joy, and it makes perfect sense to anyone who has ever really cared about being good at something.

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