Public Righteousness vs Public Religion

Below is my sermon that I wrote for Ash Wednesday this year. Sickness kept me from the church that day, for the first time in my priestly ministry, but I hope they are still helpful words as you begin your Lenten journey.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

In these final days of Christendom, as the edifice of a Christian empire and the illusion of a Christian nation are finally falling down, as church attendance and membership shrinks across the board, and as few people are anymore terribly interested in what the church has to say about anything… in these days, Christianity can at times resort to jumping up and down and shouting to make its voice heard. Whether it is evangelists on television who promise prosperity if you follow their guides or Christians on social media who trumpet their own righteousness by calling out all those who disagree with them, in all sorts of arenas religion can at times become a rather noisy thing and many of the times we wish there was a mute button—to say nothing of an unbelieving world who finds noisy and showy Christianity devoid of any attraction or draw.

So, when we hear Jesus say in the Gospel reading today, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven,” many of us breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that Jesus is telling noisy Christians to quiet down and focus more on practicing their religion than talking about it. He says your gifts of treasure should be done quietly an in secret, that your prayers should be simple and done in the quiet of your room, and that when you fast you should make it impossible for anyone to tell by looking at you that you are fasting. He reminds his listeners that wherever your treasure is, there your heart will be also, and that if your treasure is being seen by others as righteous, your heart will only ever live there… it will be far from the God who desires you.

There is a slight difficulty, though, with the quiet “yay” whispered by the average Episcopalian upon hearing this Gospel text. Don’t get me wrong, Episcopalians love the idea of a quiet religion, one that doesn’t stir anything up. It’s like the old joke, when a Baptist asked an Episcopalian if they had a personal relationship with Jesus and the Episcopalian responded that this seemed like a remarkably private intrusion! 

So, just to make sure we are all on the same page, let’s be clear: Jesus is not telling you in this story that you need to keep your Christianity private and to yourself. If he was, then other verses in this Gospel would make no sense, verses where he sends out his disciples to preach the good news and do public acts of justice and healing. Verses like 10:37, where he tells his followers, “What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.” Indeed, if this text was about keeping your Christianity private, then the whole great commission at the end would make no sense, where Jesus tells us all to “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” I’m reminded of St. Peter’s advice in First Peter 3:15, “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an account of the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.”

Absolutely, showy and vapid religion that is all about being seen is far from the Christianity of Christ. However, keeping your religion private, not sharing with those around you the good news of God’s love and grace you have experienced, that is also far from the Christianity of Christ. Each and every one of us must learn how to give our elevator pitch, our brief articulation of how God’s love has touched us. Each of us must learn how to invite others in—because there are many broken people in this unbelieving world who are in need of an experience of grace… people who won’t have that experience unless you get brave and invite them in.

So, no. You cannot use this text as a get out of evangelizing free card. 

After all, what Jesus warns about is not practicing your religion before others in order to be seen by them (after all, he did a lot of public religious acts precisely so people could see and believe). What he warns against is practicing your “piety” before others in order to be seen by them. The Greek word there is “δικαιοσύνην.” This word is usually translated as righteousness, meaning right conduct before God. That is, these are the good acts that you do, the righteous choices you make. It is your righteousness Jesus cautions against flaunting publicly.

Which raises some very interesting questions about the ashes each of you are about to have placed upon your forehead. Because, if these ashes are a symbol of your righteousness, of the fact that you came to church in the middle of a busy week, of the decision you are making to fast and practice a righteous and holy lent… then you might want to consider wiping those ashes off before you exit the doors of this church—because publicly flaunting how righteous you are is precisely what Jesus warns against in this chapter.

But what if these ashes are a symbol of something else? Because when the ashes are blessed, we ask God to make them a sign of our mortality and penitence.  They are a sign of the fact that we know we will all die in the end. They are a sign of the fact not that we are righteous, but that we know we are sinners who have fallen far from the mark. 

And I wonder what it might mean if we took that prayer seriously, if we saw wearing ashes on our forehead as the equivalent of the Scarlet Letter of Nathaniel Hawthorne, a public statement that we have sinned and failed. What if more Christians were public not about how good they are but about the fact that they know they are sinners saved by grace—and that they found that grace here, in the sacraments celebrated in their faith community? What if Christians started being more open about humility, penitence, and contrition? I have a feeling the world might see us differently. 

The problem with self-righteousness, the problem with showy Christianity where you make sure everyone know how right you are and how wrong others are, is that not only does it actually drive people away from the church, but it also disconnects you from God. As one author notes, “It is so easy to back away from that precipitous edge of longing for God and settle into being satisfied with being religious.” Being religious is important, acts of righteousness and discipline are what help draw us closer to God… but it is easy to substitute self-righteousness and contentment with our religious acts for true pursuit of God. 

The humility and penitence of Lent, however, are a sharp sword meant to cut our selfishness and sin away so that we can move ever closer to love of God and love of neighbor. And it is when people see someone who lives a life of true humility, someone who is quick to forgive when someone fails and quick to repent when sin overcomes, when people see that… then they begin to want to know about the salvation you have found, a salvation which is clearly much more about God’s love than it is about your righteousness. 

What will these ashes mean to you? What will this holy season of Lent mean to you

Will it be some simple religious actions to distract you from the real sin in your life, from your true need to turn back from God?

Or will this Lent be about an honest giving up of yourself, a true turning from sin, and a willingness perhaps even to start being a little more public with your humility, a little more willing to be vulnerable and invite someone into this place where you find God’s grace?

Because if your treasure is in heaven, if your heart is set upon the blessed vision of God and the restoration of all creation, your life should look like it. Amen.