sounds

every year my church holds an evening ash wednesday service. and each year i look forward to going to it. it's a unique service--quiet, little singing, the lights are low, and there stand two crosses at the front of the sanctuary. everyone receives a slip of paper and a pencil when they walk in the door and at the beginning of the service you're told to reflect on the things that you need to give up, the things you need to release from your tightly clenched, slightly sweaty palms, sins that have held you captive over the last year, or years. and finally, towards the end of the service, you're told to make your way to the foot of the cross, grab a hammer, and nail your list into the already scarred wood.

it is the sound of that service that draws me back every year. i could not tell you the point of a single sermon given over the last five years of my attendance. i could not tell you which songs we sang. i could not tell you who i did or didn't see. and quite honestly, i couldn't even tell you what lent really is. 40 days, yada, yada, yada easter...hooray! but, i can tell you about the sound of that service.

i always wait awhile for my turn at the cross. i wait for the sound. slowly people approach the cross and begin nailing. usually one person starts the flow, one person who can't wait a minute more to give it all up to Jesus. tap, tap, tap...tap, tap tap. soon, more people begin pounding in their deepest, darkest secrets and the sound grows. some people pound gently and others swing that hammer as if their lives depended on it. the whole room fills with the sound of pounding.

as i sit there waiting i try to imagine what it might sound like if all of grand rapids were there, pounding away. and then i try to think about what it might sound like if all of michigan, or all of the united states were there, sins in hand. and what might it sound like if the whole world joined in? i believe that weighty sound is what Christ defeated on the cross. i'm sure it was the sound heard as the nails reached wood through our Saviour's hands and feet. it's a very overwhelming sound. it is the sound of saving grace.

when it's my turn i'm always surprised by the sound of my own pounding and relieved to receive the ash cross upon my forehead. -sn

unfortunately i had to miss this year's service but luckily the sound remains with me.