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A Sermon for Ash Wednesday – Pastor Tom Steers Christ the Saviour Lutheran Church, Toronto - A Confessional Lutheran Church of the Unaltered Augsburg Confession Gospel Text: Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21 Old Testament: Joel 2:12-19 Psalm 51:1-19 Epistle: 2nd Corinthians 5:20b-6:10. In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Those words are not poetic exaggeration. Nor are they a spiritual metaphor. They’re divine verdict. Ash Wednesday begins with truth. Not flattering truth, but saving truth. In our Old Testament Reading, the Lord speaks through the prophet Joel: “Return to Me with all your heart.” That call to return is necessary because we have wandered. We have wandered not only in what we do, but in what we love. Our Lord’s words in the Gospel of Matthew Chapter 6 expose the heart of our problem. “Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them.” Jesus is not condemning good works. He is uncovering false worship. He is laying bare the sinful heart that wants the reward now. The heart that wants to be seen, to be praised. The heart that wants treasure on earth. Ash Wednesday confronts us with some difficult questions. Do we give to serve our neighbour, or to polish our reputation? Do we pray to speak with our Father, or to impress those who overhear? Do we fast to discipline the flesh, or to appear spiritually serious? Our Lord says, “They have received their reward.” And that reward is tragically small. A passing compliment. A moment of admiration. A fragile human approval that is quickly forgotten. Ashes on the forehead are a sign of repentance. But even repentance can become performance. Even humility can become pride. Sorrow over sin can become a subtle display. This is why the prophet calls us deeper. In Joel Chapter 2, the Lord says, “Rend your hearts and not your garments.” God is not impressed with torn clothing. He desires contrite hearts. He desires truth in the inward being. As we prayed in Psalm 51, “Create in me a clean heart, O God.” That is not a cosmetic request. It is a cry for re-creation. For the heart by nature does not seek God. By nature, we seek ourselves. The ashes remind us of Genesis: “You are dust.” They remind us of the wages of sin, and that death is not natural. It is earned. And yet today we hear something more – the plea of God Himself in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians: “We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” Be reconciled. Not performative. Not pretending. Reconciled to God. For “He made Him to be sin who knew no sin.” On this day of ashes, we dare not look only at ourselves. If we do, the result will be either despair or pride. Instead, we look to Christ. He did not practice righteousness to be seen by others. Though He was seen, mocked, scourged, and crucified, He did not seek human praise. He sought the will of His Father. He prayed not on street corners, but in Gethsemane, sweating blood. He fasted forty days in the wilderness and then drank the cup of wrath to its bitter end. If there was ever One who could have claimed righteousness before men, it was Him. And yet He became sin for us. He entered our dust. Bore our hypocrisy. Carried our false piety. He endured the Father’s hiddenness so that we might receive the Father’s reward. Jesus says, “Your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” That reward is not earthly approval. It is forgiveness, reconciliation, and eternal life. It is the treasure laid up in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys. Martin Luther understood this text as a call away from outward show and into true repentance. Preaching on this very chapter of Matthew, he said: “God does not want us to make a show of our piety, but to be pious; not to appear righteous, but to be righteous before Him in the heart.” That’s the difference between ashes as adornment and ashes as repentance. The world says, “Appear.” Christ says, “Be reconciled.” The world says, “Store up treasure here.” Christ says, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” So, what is your treasure? If it is your reputation, then your heart will live and die with public opinion. If it is your possessions, then your heart will rise and fall with markets and moths. If it is your own righteousness, then your heart will always be anxious, always comparing, always pretending. But if your treasure is Christ, then your heart is anchored where He is. Hidden now. Revealed in glory to come. Lent is not about spiritual self-improvement. It is about repentance and faith. It is about returning to the Lord who is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” Those words from Book of Joel are not sentimental. They are cruciform. For God’s mercy is not cheap. It is purchased at the cross, by the blood of Christ. And we approach this day not to display righteousness, but to receive it. We come not to offer a spiritual résumé, but to confess spiritual bankruptcy. We come with dust on our heads and sin in our hearts. And we hear Christ say, “Take heart, your sins are forgiven.” That forgiveness is your treasure. It cannot be stolen. It cannot decay nor be taken away by death. For even though you are dust, you are baptized dust. Dust claimed by Christ. Dust washed in water and the Word. Dust destined for resurrection. Ash Wednesday tells the truth about the end for Christian believers. Good Friday tells the truth about your redemption. Easter tells the truth about your future. So repent. Not outwardly only. But from the heart. Fast, yes. Pray, always. Give, to help the neighbour in need. But do so as a Christian already reconciled by the Redeemer. Do so not to earn the Father’s love, but because you have it. Not to store up merit, but because your treasure is secure. And when the day comes that these ashes are no longer symbolic, when your body returns temporarily to the earth, your treasure will remain. For Christ has gone before you. Where He is, you will one day be as well. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.