In a column he wrote for the Rhode Island Catholic a couple of years ago, our Bishop at the time, Thomas J. Tobin, offered a reflection on the subject of what we wear, and how what we wear often reflects, as he put it, “our belief or our loyalty.” What we wear, in other words, is often a sign of something deeper. He began by commending the Catholic school students who had been kicked out of the Smithsonian Museum a few weeks earlier for wearing hats that said, “Rosary Pro-Life.” He commended those students for having worn something that was a sign of “their commitment to life.”
The Bishop went on to say, “How often we proudly wear a t-shirt, a sweatshirt or a hat bearing the name and logo of our favorite team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, for example. [No doubt most locals would have been happier if he had mentioned the Patriots in this regard.] Sometimes, we wear things that have religious meaning. Christians wear a cross to identify themselves as followers of Christ. Catholics wear medals or pins to share a favorite devotion. When a priest wears a purple vestment for Mass rather than a white vestment, it means something.”
Then he rightly noted that on Ash Wednesday we will all leave church “wearing” something—something that we were not wearing when we entered the building before the Mass began. We will be wearing ashes on our foreheads! Which brought him to what might be called the “crux” of the matter. He said that these ashes will be “a very visible sign. But a sign of what?”
That’s the key issue for each of us to consider as we begin the holy season of Lent: What will the ashes I wear this Ash Wednesday actually be a sign of?
— Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to make my spiritual life—my relationship with Jesus Christ—my top priority during the next 40 days?
— Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to pray more, and to read Scripture more often; that I intend to come to Mass faithfully every Sunday—and maybe even during the week?
— Will they be a sign of the fact that I’m going to take an honest look at my life during the next 40 days, so that I can identify those things I need to change? And will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to bring those matters—those faults—those sins—to the sacrament of Reconciliation at some point during the season of Lent, so that they can be forgiven?
— Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to seek reconciliation with people I’ve offended in my life, and that I will seek to grow in charity during this holy season?
— Or will wearing the ashes I receive this year simply be a sign of the fact that I somehow paid my “spiritual dues” on March 5, 2025; that I went through the motions, and did what many Catholics (probably most Catholics) think they’re supposed to do on Ash Wednesday every year?
Those are crucial questions. They’re the questions that need to be answered by us, and by everyone else who “wears” ashes on their forehead next Wednesday. Of course, they can only be answered adequately when Lent is over, and when we reflect back on what we’ve done—and not done—during this holy season.
May that reflection back help us to see, happily, that the ashes we wore this Ash Wednesday were a positive sign: a sign of the great spiritual growth and personal improvement that we would experience—and which we did experience—during the 40 days of Lent in 2025.
