Ash Wednesday: Tell Me Something Good (Even Without the Ashes)

The traditional Ash Wednesday liturgy is not subtle. It usually involves a smudge, a cross, and a blunt reminder: You are dust—and to dust you shall return.

But even if you aren't wearing physical ashes today, the truth remains. Ash Wednesday begins with honesty. It is the quiet admission that we are fragile creatures in a fragile world. And yet, as we begin our Lenten series, we are starting with a different kind of refrain: Tell me something good.

The Gospel of the Invitation

The world is heavy, and grief is close to the bone. Seeking "good news" right now might feel like spiritual bypassing. But the good news we seek isn't shallow optimism—it is Gospel.

In our Lenten series (inspired by A Sanctified Art), we ground ourselves in a startling truth: The good news is… all are invited.

Think of the poem by Rev. Sarah Are Speed, “The Gospel According to Mrs. Farnell’s Pre-K Class.” In it, every child is invited to the party. It doesn't matter if they shared their snacks or if they were picked for Red Rover.

"We arrive… because we were invited."

Honesty in the Dust

Ash Wednesday tells the truth about us: We are finite. We are inconsistent. We are capable of beauty and harm in the same afternoon.

And still—you are invited. Before you clean yourself up, before you prove your worth, and before you fix what is broken, you are welcomed into a season of:

• Repentance without shame.

• Honesty about your limits.

• Grace that doesn't have to be earned.

Your Lenten Journey Starts Now

Over the next six weeks, we will look for "something good" in unexpected places: at wedding tables, in shared meals, and in tiny resurrections.

Today, wherever you are—at a desk, in a car, or at a kitchen table—take a breath and remember: You do not have to win Red Rover to belong to God. You are invited. Especially now.