Ash Wednesday - The Rev. Colette Hammesfahr
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21 – February 18, 2026 – Ash Wednesday
Have you figured out what you’re doing yet? You know…..the question we all ask each other on Ash Wednesday…..what are you giving up for Lent? Do you have your answer? Have you decided?
A
few years ago, a priest told his congregation on the Sunday before Lent, “This
year I’m giving up complaining.” He lasted until Tuesday. By Wednesday morning,
he had already complained about traffic, emails, and the weather. So he tried
something different. Instead of trying to stop complaining, he decided that
every time he caught himself complaining, he would say one prayer of gratitude
instead. He didn’t eliminate the habit overnight. But he began to notice
something — the act of adding gratitude slowly changed the tone of his heart.
By Easter, he said, “I didn’t become a person who never complains. I became a
person who notices grace more quickly.”
Many
of us grew up being told to give something up for Lent. No chocolate. No soda. No candy. It wasn’t meant to be a punishment. It was the church’s way
of teaching young people, in small and simple ways, that we are more than our
appetites. It was a child’s doorway into something deeper. Maybe now that we
are grown, Lent asks a little more of us than giving up candy and soda. Jesus
is inviting us deeper. He’s inviting us to look at what really has hold of our
hearts.
What
if Lent wasn’t about not eating chocolate, but instead about feeding
someone? What if wasn’t about giving up coffee, but about giving your
attention? Jesus doesn’t say, “When you avoid things.” He says, “When
you give. When you pray. When you fast.” Lent isn’t about shrinking our lives.
It’s about aiming them and growing them. Jesus is inviting us to look honestly
at our treasure. That’s why we begin with ashes. “Remember that you are dust.”
We
don’t say these words to shame us or frighten us. We say them to clarify who we
are. Ash Wednesday strips away our illusions. The applause fades. The titles
fade. The image we carefully curate fades. In the end, it is just us and God.If
life is fragile, then what deserves my energy? What deserves my time? What
deserves my love? Lent is about remembering who we belong to and loosening our
grip on what doesn’t last, so we can hold more tightly to what does.
So
I’d like you to sit with a question: If your treasure reveals your heart, what
is your heart wrapped around these days?
Jesus
tells us that our treasure and our heart are never far apart — they travel
together. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Jesus isn’t
scolding us. He’s simply telling the truth about how the human heart works.
Jesus talks about giving, praying, and fasting not as religious performances,
but as ways of re-aiming our hearts. Jesus teaches us that when we give, pray,
and fast, we are to do it in secret. And that sounds simple — until we realize
how much we want to be seen. Jesus says, “Beware.” Because we can turn even
prayer into performance. We can turn generosity into self-advertisement. We can
turn fasting into quiet spiritual competition. We can even turn humility into a
brand.
The
real hunger Jesus is addressing is not for bread. It is for approval. We want
to be noticed. We want to be admired. We want someone to say, “Look how
faithful they are.” And Jesus says, if that is your treasure — if being seen is
your treasure — then that is where your heart will live.
When Jesus tells us not to store up treasures on earth, he is not just talking about money. He is talking about reputation. Status. Image. The version of ourselves we hope everyone else sees. None of that survives the grave. Time takes them away. But what we give in love, to God, endures.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. These
words tell us the truth about what fades away. Jesus says, “Where your treasure
is, there your heart will be also.” Ashes tell the truth about what fades.
Jesus tells the truth about what remains. If
no one ever saw what you gave this Lent — would you still give? If no one
praised your discipline — would you still fast? If your prayers earned you no
admiration — would you still pray?
Here’s
the good news. The priest who tried to give up complaining? He failed by
Tuesday. That’s us. We try. We promise. We resolve. And by Wednesday, we’ve
already broken the thing we swore we would keep. But Lent is not about getting
it right. It’s about being honest. When he caught himself complaining, he
didn’t quit. He turned it into prayer. He let grace interrupt him. That’s what
Jesus is inviting us into. Not perfection. Not spiritual performance. But a
heart that keeps turning back.
Lent
is not about proving how disciplined we are. It is about letting God reshape
what we treasure. It is about learning to give in ways that are quiet, to pray
in ways that are honest, and to fast in ways that free us. The ashes remind us
that life is fragile. Jesus reminds us that love is not.
So for forty days, we ask God to turn our
hearts toward what lasts — and to loosen our grip on what doesn’t. You may
discover this Lent that your treasure has been approval. Or control. Or
comfort. Don’t hide that. Don’t perform around it. Bring it into the light. The
Father who sees in secret also forgives in secret. The ashes do not say, “Try
harder.” They say, “Return.” Amen.
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