What the Body Knows and Reveals to Us

Homily for February 14, 2024
Ash Wednesday
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Those from Trinity may have heard me quote before from Gregor, my Friday morning yoga teacher.  The other day Gregor had a good one.  He said:

A yoga pose is not something we “do.”  To “do”a pose puts us in the context of performance and achievement, which come from the mind – our minds love to “do” things. Rather [he said], a yoga pose is something we allow our body to find itself in.  And our body finds itself there[he said] because the body knows that being in that pose is healthy for us and helps to free us to live in the present.  

In the setting that scholars believe to be Matthew’s Gospel, Matthew’s synagogue of Jesus-following Jews  was surrounded by synagogues of those who did not follow Jesus.  And, as one might imagine, the Jesus-followers and those who did not follow Jesus came into conflict.  One of the ways in which the conflict manifests itself is that in his Gospel Matthew takes pains to present his Jesus-followers as at least equal to if not more righteous than their non-Jesus-following neighbors.  For example, in Matthew Jesus says things like, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (5:20).  Or, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.  But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you (5:43-44).  Or again, “’Lord, how many times should I forgive…?  Up to seven times?’  Jesus answered, ‘Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven times’” (18:21-22). In the “family feud” that is the setting of Matthew’s Gospel, Matthew is at pains to present his Jesus-following synagogue as at least equal to if not more righteous than their non-Jesus-following neighbors.

And so in tonight’s Gospel, Matthew once again works to establish his community as at least as righteous as, if not more righteous than, the surrounding synagogues:

So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues… But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing…

And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues… But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door…

And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites…  But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face…

I wonder to what extent this undercurrent in Matthew of “keeping up with the Joneses,” as it were, of wanting to establish his community as at least as righteous as, if not more righteous than, the surrounding synagogues, [I wonder to what extent this undercurrent in Matthew] and in tonight’s Gospel passage (that we read every Ash Wednesday) may have colored our understanding of Lent as a time of performance and achievement and of what it is we “do” for Lent.  

For in my experience, when people speak of what they are “doing” for Lent, it often sounds as though they are describing a burden or a pressure, or as though there is a lack of self-acceptance and they are in some way are trying to punish themselves.  I want to ask, “Where is the possibility of more freedom or joy, or more self-acceptance, or a deeper intimacy with God?”  If you are “doing” something for Lent, and if what you are “doing” feels like a burden or like self-punishment, or if there is alack of self-acceptance, it could be that our minds are trying to drive our Lenten experience.  It could be that our minds, caught up in doing and performing and achieving, are causing us to lose touch with our bodies.  And it is our bodies that really know what is healthy for us.  

Which perhaps is why shortly we will set aside any focus on the mind and instead offer our bodies the opportunity to be reminded of what it is that ultimately brings us health.  Momentarily, we will be invited to come forward to receive ashes on our foreheads, and we will be told, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Our minds may not know what to do with this.  To be told publicly in the front of the church that we are dust and that someday we will return to the dust may be confusing to the mind.  But I suspect our bodies know.  It is our bodies that brought us here this evening; it is our bodies that will walk us forward; it is our bodies that will kneel; it is on our bodies that the ashes will rest.  For if not our mind then our bodies will understand that this “pose” in which our bodies find themselves tonight is healthy for us, that this reminder of “being dust and to dust you shall return ”frees us to live fully in the present.  

This Lent I invite us to allow ourselves to pay attention to our bodies, to allow ourselves to step out of the pressure of doing, performing and achieving –  pressures that come from the mind – and to allow our bodies to find themselves in this “pose” of repentance that our bodies know to be healthy.  Because we are accustomed to focusing on the mind, paying attention to our bodies may not always be easy.  Knowing this, tonight and every Sunday in the Eucharist Jesus supports us with his body, which– if not our minds then our bodies know – is healthy and life-giving.  So as we this Lent allow our bodies to find themselves in this “pose” that we experience tonight, of kneeling and ashes, of “remembering that we are dust and to dust we shall return,” I wonder if we also might allow our bodies to find themselves open to the support and strength of his body. So that, come the end of these forty days, we in our bodies will know more fully his grace and forgiveness, and we will be free to live life with more joy and freedom, with more self-acceptance, and more fully knowing God’s love, now in the present.

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