Ashes and Friendship
Pierluigi Banna - During Lent, the ashes symbolize a commitment to conversion, which is deeply supported by the experience of mercy.
Today, the Pope invites us to begin Lent, the forty-day period before Easter, as a shared journey of hope. "This journey," he writes, "begins with a simple gesture open to all: ashes scattered on the head." These ashes remind us that true change starts when we openly acknowledge our neediness. It's futile to frantically try to fix our problems, especially after vain attempts to hide them.
The Pope continued, "One cannot change alone; we need companions on this journey, people before whom we can be our true selves." But who are these companions? A few days ago, a friend shared an experience: while praying the Rosary with others on the subway, she wondered how her prayer could touch the hearts of those around her, who seemed so distant and different. She reflected on the barrier of self-referentiality that often makes us suspicious of others, confining us to our own groups and beliefs, and excluding those who are different.
At the start of our journey, we need someone who approaches us and sees our ashes not as a sign of smallness or suspicion, but as a symbol of greatness and openness. Just as Jesus saw Zacchaeus, isolated in a tree, not as someone to be excluded for his flaws, but as a person with greatness to be restored: "I came to seek and to save what was lost" (Luke 19:10).
Therefore, during Lent, our commitment to conversion, symbolized by the ashes, must be rooted in the experience of mercy to avoid becoming a self-centered effort of self-pity or self-justification. Through mercy, we discover that our own struggles can lead us to embrace God's unconditional friendship. As Pope Francis writes in Dilexit Nos, we realize that we are God's "you," and this relationship allows us to fully become ourselves. Accepting this divine friendship is a matter of the heart and defines us as complete persons.
God's mercy deeply transforms our hearts, breaking down barriers of suspicion and alienation, especially towards those who are most in need or sinful. As we experience forgiveness, we naturally find companions on our journey.
A sign that our prayers connect us with God as a friend is our growing empathy for others, especially those in greatest need. The more someone lacks the ability to repay our kindness, the more our compassion grows, knowing that God can bring new life even from the depths of despair. Mercy is God's passionate desire to recreate us from our lowest points.
Such mercy can only come from a God who created the world and triumphed over death. Christ alone can see sin as an opportunity to give new life to those in need. As the Risen One, He uses our mistakes as starting points for our renewal. Thus, Lent becomes a hopeful journey where God's victory transforms our failures into a source of light and friendship in a world often darkened by suspicion.
A nurse friend, returning from her honeymoon, found a patient lying motionless in bed, seemingly abandoned. Seeing him, she realized they shared a common need: to be loved, not just momentarily, but with the boundless, mysterious love she had discovered in marriage. Feeling a connection, she washed him and dressed him in pajamas.
Grateful for this simple act, the patient felt dignified and thanked her. This encounter between the bride and the patient, both needing love, sparked a hopeful friendship rooted in Christ's compassion for our human frailty. Such friendships among the needy are potent signs of hope, revealing the light of the risen Christ in the world this Lent.
The author has not revised the text and its translations.
