How I Celebrated Ash Wednesday

How did you celebrate Ash Wednesday? With a church service and the impartation of ashes? With the beginning of a fast - giving up chocolate or alcohol or meat or television?

I planned to celebrate Ash Wednesday with a full day of ministry work. A service at our local senior apartment complex. Lunch with the town's ministers. An afternoon in the office followed by a church dinner, Bible study, and evening worship. That's what I had planned.


I really celebrated Ash Wednesday by getting stuck in our church's elevator. Yeah. I did that.

It was mid-afternoon, during my office hours, and I was setting up for the first installment of our Lenten Bible study. The co-leader had offered to help me set up, but rather than take her up on her sincere offer, I did what I usually do. I tried to do it all myself.

I got the books out, set up the DVD player, collected extra Bibles from around the church. All was well.

But then I went downstairs to get the 200-pound 5-foot tall entertainment center. (No, I'm not that in shape - it's on wheels).

It needed to be upstairs for the Bible study, so I wheeled it across the Fellowship Hall and then pulled it into the elevator behind me. Before I could think through what a bad idea this was (hint: a REALLY bad one), the door shut behind it and I was trapped. Trapped between a giant entertainment center and the back of the elevator.

I couldn't reach the door to get out. I couldn't scoot around the entertainment center to reach the door. I couldn't climb over it or crawl under it. I was totally stuck.

I wasn't in immediate distress. I had a few feet of breathing room and the elevator is solid. But this was not in my plans for the day. It was Ash Wednesday! I am a pastor! I was very busy and had things to do! I was not yet even finished with my sermon for the evening, not to mention the eighteen emails and many phone calls I had to return!

(You can probably see where this is going. As usual, it took me a little longer to figure it out.)

Luckily, the elevator has a phone in it. Unluckily, the phone is about 85 years old and it wouldn't accept our long distance code. The only phone numbers I know by heart are long-distance (my husband still has a California cell number!).

So I spent half an hour trying to figure out how to get out. I couldn't climb out. I couldn't push my way out.

No one else was going to be at the church until 5pm. Our custodian had already left for the day.

I knew that my husband would eventually come looking for me (I was scheduled to stop by the house around 3pm to feed our little boy), but I wasn't sure how long that would take and how worried he would become. If he called the police to report me missing in our small town, I was pretty sure that I would die of humiliation.

During my stint in the elevator, I ruminated on two basic things:

1) I really, REALLY have to pee.

2) I tried to do yet another thing on my own, without asking for help, and look where it got me. It's Ash Wednesday - a day where we remember our dependence on God - and I've been so busy running around like a headless chicken that I've gotten myself, quite literally, stuck.

This led to another realization:

2a) Gee, maybe God is trying to tell me something.

Then I did one thing:

1) I prayed.

It went something like this:

"Jesus, this is embarrassing. And I know we've had this talk before - that I should ask for help and not try to do everything on my own. And I know that I've spent all day running around getting things ready for other people to worship here tonight, but I haven't yet spent time with you myself. I'm pretty embarrassed about that, actually, and I'm even more embarrassed that I didn't even realize I hadn't spent time with you until just now.

"So I get it. You needed to stop me in my tracks to remind me that I need you. Thank you for reminding me. But for now, I am just a touch claustrophobic, and I really have to pee. Will you help me out of here, please?"

And then Jesus put the idea in my head that maybe I should call the operator.

Did you know that there are still phone operators? There are! I dialed "0" and spoke to a woman named Myrna and told her my sad story, and she connected me. I don't know if that was legal of her or not. I don't know if a $57 dollar charge will soon show up on our church phone bill. All I know is that the call went through and within minutes, I was rescued. Thoroughly embarrassed, but rescued.

Thank you, Jesus.

My husband rescued me and then I returned home and dropped to my knees for awhile. I asked for forgiveness for my hurry. I confessed my sin of pride that keeps me from accepting offers of help. I thanked God for the oh-so-clear reminder of my utter dependence on him.

I also took a lot of deep breaths. You don't really know if you have a touch of claustrophobia until you get stuck in an elevator. Phew.

Then I went through the rest of a holy Ash Wednesday - dinner at church, Bible study, worship. It felt more real, somehow.

As I closed my message, a short sermon on Luke 9 and Genesis 3:19, I preached what I had learned that day anew.

"Remember that you are dust," I said. "But also remember that we serve a God who breathes new life into the dust. I am not okay. You are not okay. But because of Jesus, it will be okay."

Not how I planned to celebrate Ash Wednesday, but then, that's how God works sometimes.

Thank you for operators, Jesus. For obvious reminders of simple truths. For Lent. For Ash Wednesday. For the church elevator and its important lesson. And for Myrna. Bless her, wherever she is.