"Hey! You've got something on your face," or, Wandering around in Public on Ash Wednesday

The intention of this post is not to preach or to convince you about a certain faith, just simply a reflection on an aspect of a personal belief.

There’s nothing like having a giant cross of ash on your forehead to make you really think about the way you act.

These days public displays of religions are rare, if not frowned upon or awkwardly ignored. It’s not good to be confrontational - and religion is as in-your-face as it can get. It’s accepted that faith should be internalized: you have the right to believe what you want, but it shouldn't be displayed in public. There are some exceptions to this: the hijab, for one, although also a subject of controversy, is still quite proudly worn in everyday life. But I would dare say, that especially among practicing Christians, outward signs of faith have dwindled. Gone are the days of the “Jesus is My Homeboy” t-shirts and purity rings (remember those?) These days, it’s a rare and subtle cross on a necklace, or nothing at all. I would dare say that more crosses are worn ironically than not.

The reasons for this may be multiple, but it probably boils down to this: people react more negatively and viscerally to Christianity than to any other religions, with some precedent; and Christians, faced with this culturally engrained picture of the hypocritical, self-righteous, and killjoy Bible-Thumper, are wary about reflecting any pixel of this image. It's not about verbal or sartorial expression of faith these days; it's about showing - showing that Christians can be loving, can be cool, can be relevant, and still be Christians. And there is definitely something to be said about acting out your faith, rather than just speaking it. After all, words only do and mean so much, and Christianity was always meant to be about action and relationships rather than weekly sermons and sterile dos-and-don'ts.

But maybe the danger these days is that we’re a little too timid. A little too - afraid, perhaps? Of confrontation. Of condemnation. Of being seen as downers. Of questions we can’t answers, rightful anger we can’t dissipate. Of not living up to the standard that is set by having a little cross hanging ‘round your neck - or living up too well to what society hates about those who call themselves followers of Christ.  (Recall Gandhi and his deeply condemning quote: “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”) Certainly all these things, especially while working in the field of OB/GYN, has kept me quiet about my faith. I hope what I do is enough; I know that I seriously fail even my internal standards. I don’t want anyone to know. Certainly, at 3 am at the end of a 24-hour call, when a patient is vicious and uncooperative, and the ER calls the fifth consult of the night; certainly, when office conversation turns to the latest controversial legal ruling or news article; when I’m out with my friends after a hard week, and just want to let loose, let go, and fit in, I’d much rather not be labelled a Christian - and more often than not, I don’t act like one. 

But maybe that’s why we should embrace displays of belief, no matter what your faith. I’m not talking about a ironic, punny t-shirt (please let’s not bring that back, ever), or confrontational displays of religion (peace, not discord, remember?). It’s not for the sake of others, necessarily, although nothing opens doors to a conversation about religion with kind strangers more than a black smudge on your forehead while you’re wandering in public on a random Wednesday. But really, it’s for ourselves. 

Just like a hijab is both a reminder of faith and the action that follows that faith - modesty - a display of faith reminds us to hold ourselves accountable to the beliefs to which we claim hold: even at 3 am on labor & delivery, even in that interminable line at the post office, even when it's inconvenient or inopportune. It’s also a daily reminder that we may never live up to the standards set by the man who died cross before us - and we were never meant to. That’s what grace is for. And out of gratitude for that grace, we're to try every day to live every moment in reflection of that great love - even if we fail and fall, over and over. We don’t have to be “holier than thou,” because we are definitely not; we don’t have to - shouldn’t - hide that we all struggle.

Conscious of that impression of an ashen cross on my forehead today, I certainly paid closer attention to the way I acted - my speech, the expression on my face (which, judging from the look of fellow pedestrians, is generally pretty grim), even the manner in which I moved down the street. It’s human nature to forget, so no matter what your beliefs, perhaps a daily, visible impression of the convictions seared in our hearts will remind us to express in beautiful and positive ways what we believe. If we all did, the world would likely be a better place.