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In honor of Ash Wednesday, I thought I would post this age-old question for comment by our readers: should you wear your ashes all through the day on Ash Wednesday?
Of course this only matters if you go to an early Mass. But if you do, it can be a bit of a puzzle trying to decide what to do about the ashes afterwards. On the one hand, you certainly shouldn’t be ashamed to wear them, and seeing them could be an appropriate reminder to others of the importance of the day, as well as a proud sign that you are Catholic and not ashamed to show it. Where I work, this would be quite a noticeable thing. But then there’s a catch. Wearing ashes around all day could become a source of pride. Like the Pharisee publicly beating his breast, you want to show the world just how humble and penitent you really are.
My suggested compromise is: don’t wash the ashes off, but don’t make an effort to display them either. That is to say, you shouldn’t deliberately go to an early Mass just so that you get to wear ashes around all day, and if you walk home in the rain and they wash off, then so be it.
St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
+JMJ+
The priest who gave me my ashes made the cross very small and put it as close to my hairline as possible. I don’t know his motive, but I guessed that he didn’t want anyone flashing overly large crosses for the rest of the day. :P
I would technically say that having ashes on one’s forehead is more as a symbol of one’s own ability to fail. A person wearing ashes as a source of pride would be to me questionable…I wonder if they listened to the priest when he administered the ashes?
Of course, those people are screwed up anyways so whatever they do is a source of pride in religion. They could take something noteworthy and turn it around. I think this is the point Jesus means.
Although I think you have a good point.
I always go to the evening Mass to avoid this dilemma.
I think, too, it’s about where you are in the world. Consider wearing ashes in some of those nasty parts of Iraq…possibly a place to get martyred.
I personally don’t like wearing the ashes; I always rub it off…but that is probably more in my disposition than anything. And it isn’t a sin to rub it off, as far as I know.
Clara,
You’re always so attuned to the “pride” aspect of things.
I was recently reading St. Francis de Sales’ Lenten Sermons (available through TAN).
According to St. Francis one should make known to those around them that they are fasting and doing all the other things expected of a Catholic during Lent. According this holy bishop, the scriptural admonishment to wash your face and to act as if you’re not fasting, does not apply during Lent. I don’t have the book in front of me, but the great saint mentioned as one of the reasons against not leave the ashes on your forehead or to avoid or evade the fact that you are fasting is that you will be failing to show to the outside world (especially non-Catholics) what a good Catholic does. And you may be giving scandal to those who know you are a Catholic and *think* you are not following the precepts of the Church.
St. Francis was very adamant however that any fasting or good work done beyond what is prescribed by Church or the local community (if religious), should be kept very secret.
The whole first sermon is one fasting out of humility rather than fasting out of pride.
He had a few disturbing mentions of a certain saint (something like St. Pancrimus or some name like that). When one of his brother monks showed off that he made 2 mats in one day (even though the community rule was to sew one mat per day), St. Pancrimus had this monk’s mats thrown into the furnace and put the monk in prison for 5 months for doing the devil’s work!!
Now that’s old school!
I think perhaps our Blessed Mother would have gone to the earliest Mass, and been neither ashamed nor proud of her ashes. They are a good (and sobering!) reminder, for ourselves and others, of man’s final end. You never know, it might even cause someone (a Jew?) to ask some questions and be a good chance for evangelization.
An excellent suggestion — if you can do it.
You seem overly concerned about pride when considering any outward show of your Catholic faith. If you go to early Mass bacause that is the best one for you to go to, wear the ashes without concern. Perhaps your reluctance to wear them is really an indication of timidity. It is hard in this culture to do anything to show our faith. The concept of “triumphalism” was a post-Vatican II attempt to get the faithful to rein in their outward demonstrations of their faith. It’s part of the “don’t wear it on your sleeve” or “always pray in the closet” mentality. There is a hugh difference between the pharisical display and the wearing of ashes (or veils). Sometimes doing what is required and what is right is uncomfortable and will make you stand out. That is no reason to hide what you do. I like the reference to St. Francis’ instructions. It is okay to demonstrate your faith. The world needs our witness.
I’ve always loved going to early Masses in order to wear the ashes throughout the day, not as a matter of pride because many people who I run into on a daily basis have no clue as to what the ashes signify - “You’ve uh. Got a smudge on your forehead” - it’s hard for something like that to be a source of pride as it looks, to the majority of people, like you’ve been playing in the chimney. Flattering? I think not.
But, when people hesitatingly inform you you’ve got a smudge, a moment comes where you can tell someone about Catholicism in a non-obnoxious way, and it really does intrigue other people because someone who gets high grades, is reasonable, and whose intellect and judgement they have a high opinion of - when they wear ashes, it makes it seem more mysterious and even reasonable by association. It gets minds percolating about why would this woman wear such a sign? What’s there that I’m missing?
It also aids wavering Catholics when they see someone they respect wearing ashes and talking freely about them to people who ask - it serves as a model of faith that can be quite precious.
Perhaps my particular time/place makes it very appropriate for me to wear ashes (going to a large university), but the thought also occurs to me: why institute such a custom and let the ashes be placed upon such a visible area, if not to signify something both to ourselves and to others?
Unfortunately, today, I wasn’t able to attend an early Mass. Blast!
I highly doubt a symbol on one’s forehead is going to miraculously convert souls. After all, it is more for the individual’s repentance than showing off one’s religion.
I agree - but I rather think you misinterpreted what I was saying, which is pro’lly my fault. The “because” in the first paragraph may have been misleading (I wear ashes –> because I want to convert others), but I didn’t intend to say that wearing ashes is solely for an other.
Or, saying that something can be useful to others is different from saying it is useless to self.
Expectate Miracula.
-Deirdre
Interesting discussion because placing the ashes on the forehead is a peculiarly Amercan custom. When and why did Americans depart from the traditional usage? In the monastic Orders, and in Europe and elsewhere in the Catholic world the ashes are sprinkled on the crown of the head. You will note that the ancient blessing of ashes reads: “Heed our prayers and mercifully pour forth upon the heads of thy servants, which have been sprinkled with these ashes, the grace of thy blessing. Fill them with the spirit of compunction; to their rightful prayers give effectual answer; and ordain that what thou grantest shall remain forever established and inviolate.” See also the other two ancient prayers for the blessing of ashes; the reference is to sprinkling them upon the head.
Thank you, Father — that is most interesting! And even though I sort of like the idea of signing the forehead, I can’t think of any good reason why the tradition should have been changed.
As for the other responses, I think they are all fair points. I would note that the solution suggested by Mary’s daughter was in fact the same one that I proposed (except maybe for the “without concern” part) and I readily grant everyone’s points about the benefit of being seen to be Catholic and being able to tell people about being Catholic on Ash Wednesday.
Nonetheless, it was after all Jesus himself who described the “pray in the closet” mentality as being appropriate for fasting. I can see St. Francis de Sales’ points to a degree, but I’m suspicious of saying that Jesus’ words about fasting — the only advice he ever gives about how to fast appropriately — just don’t apply to the most serious fast of the Church year. And indeed, the general tenor of Christ’s words still seem appropriate to me. It surely isn’t necessary to utterly conceal what you’re doing — for example, if you must excuse yourself from another engagement in order to make it to Mass, you obviously shouldn’t lie about where you’re going. At the same time, to go around all day moaning about how hungry you are is clearly inappropriate. There may be a public element to Lenten fasting, and certainly we want to avoid scandal, but your penitential attitude should be oriented primarily towards God, and it’s easier to do that if you can stop thinking about what other people think.
I genuinely appreciate people’s concern about my being too timid in the faith, but I really think it’s misplaced in this case. Academic philosophers (ie, the people I associate with daily) tend to be suspicious of religion, but partly for that reason, I *like* telling people that I’m Catholic, and I like feeling interesting and special for being Catholic. But if I’m enjoying wearing the ashes in the same way that I might enjoy wearing my Notre Dame apparel on football weekends, then I have to wonder whether I’m not sort of losing the penitential spirit.
Matthew 6:16 (KJV)
Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
17 But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face;
18 That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.
Well — my problem is when I DO wipe off my ashes, usually with a napkin — how to dispose of the napkin? Burn it, I suppose? What do others do? We really shouldn’t be simply washing the ashes down the drain, since they are blessed.
Christ might have warned us against pharisaical pride, but He also warned against being ashamed of Him before men. I think wearing your ashes publicly until they either fall off or are unintentionally washed off, offers a tremendous opportunity to witness for Our Lord both forthrightly, and with humility.
Wearing your ashes in public presents a chance to bring others to the Faith that’s not often available in everyday life. People do, in fact, inquire about the ashes when they wouldn’t dare approach you for crossing yourself in a restaurant, observing that you’re eating fish on a Friday, or going to Mass while on vacation. Normally they wouldn’t “intrude,” but there’s something about the ashes that causes them to ask, whether they know what they are or not.
Embrace the opportunity for witness, and at the same time utter a prayer that you be given the grace to resist the temptation to pride, and perhaps win a convert thereby.
A blessed and fruitful Lent to all!
I often forget that I have the ashes on and end up wondering why everyone on the subway and streetcars are looking at me funny.
I once got ashed by a priest who dipped his thumb in a bit of water first, making the ashes into a kind of paste which dried like cement and made them a very noticable black, not grey. I didn’t know this though and subsequently forgot I had it on. I have very pale skin and the contrast was a little shocking and made me look a little wild. I rather liked people thinking I was a bit mad.