Ash Wednesday: A Sudden Retreat
By: Emily Claire Schmitt
I’m writing the (first draft) of this reflection from a rocking chair on the second story of what was once a college infirmary, now the guest house of The Sisters of the Holy Cross. Through the wide windows in front of me, I can see the bare, spindly branches of naked trees scratching that gray February South Bend sky, what they call the permacloud. Below is a small, white stone statue of a guardian angel holding the hand of a little girl, and behind the angel, a river, not frozen but moving so slowly it seems like it’s considering freezing up, but doesn’t quite have the energy. Recently, I can relate to that river.
The building is old, for an American building, built sometime in the late 1800’s. It has dark wood molding on every doorframe and steps that creak deliciously when climbed. The best part of all: I am the only person in the entire place, the only guest for now.
I didn’t realize I was going on a retreat. I’m here to do research for a film project, and the weekend is booked up with interviews and archives. But I also didn’t realize how much I needed a retreat. Amid an onslaught of personal, familial, and spiritual challenges, I find myself knocked off my feet by the sudden appearance in my life of an empty building with a small, plain chapel, a rocking chair, and the statue of a (my?) guardian angel.
Ash Wednesday comes upon us much like this. We don’t plan for it, we don’t ask for it, but it arrives just in time. Ash Wednesday always seems to appear all of a sudden, even though we know it’s coming. It arrives because God knows we need it.
Lent is God’s gift to us, not the other way around. Yes, we are asked to make sacrifices, to fast and pray and give alms, but remember that God doesn’t need anything. He only loves us and desires what is best for us, namely that we love Him. God always delivers what we need, and it’s always Ash Wednesday, right on time. The moment we believe we have mastered the art of white-knuckling it through life, Ash Wednesday arrives to remind us we need God.
Ash Wednesday is here, the ultimate, ever-reoccurring demand to make space in your heart for God. He makes it so easy for us. He does all the work on our behalf, sets the time and the place, and makes all the arrangements. All we have to do is show up and open our hearts. God will step in and rearrange everything. What a profound gift Lent is. If we stop to think about the magnitude of it, we cannot help but be brought to tears.
Lent is not the desert. It is an oasis in the desert. We’ve arrived. Drop to your knees and thank God. Drink deeply. You’ve been rescued, yet again.
Emily Claire Schmitt is a playwright, screenwriter, and the Executive Director of The Catholic Artist Connection