Ash Wednesday and Lenten Traditions
Wednesday 18 February 2026
Ash Wednesday and Lenten Traditions
Wednesday 18 February 2026
Ash Wednesday and Lenten Traditions
At Holy Rosary, the preparation for Ash Wednesday begins outside, in the cold. Last year's palm crosses are gathered and burnt in a wheelbarrow, and the ashes collected from that small fire are what will be shared with the congregations of both Holy Rosary and St. John's. It's a simple thing to watch, and somehow that simplicity is the point. Burning the old branches directly connects the events of Palm Sunday with the start of our penitential journey through Lent. The same palms, returned to ash.
The roots of this tradition stretch back to the early Catholic Church, though the full history is more complex than any brief summary can do justice to. Originally, Lent was a time of intense preparation for new converts awaiting baptism at Easter. Ashes in those days were reserved for public penitents. Those who had committed grave sins wore sackcloth and received a sprinkling of ashes before being readmitted to the community. It was a harder, more public reckoning than what we practice now. Over the centuries the Church extended this to everyone, and what was once a mark of serious transgression became a shared moment of humility. That shift says something, I think, about how the Church understands mercy.
Before the Mass, the materials are laid out on a white cloth. A small bowl of grey ashes. Holy water. A brass aspergillum. It doesn't look like much. Within the Mass, parishioners come forward to receive the ashes on their foreheads, and this year it was Matthew, one of our altar servers, who distributed them, including to Fr Adrian himself. There's something quietly powerful about that. The clergy don't stand apart from this. The call to repentance is for all of us, without exception. Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Inside the church, the crosses and statues are draped in purple cloth. This usually happens during Passiontide, the final two weeks of Lent, though at Holy Rosary we have kept them covered throughout. The purple represents penance and mourning. Hiding the familiar images of the saints asks something of you. It removes the places your eye would normally rest and draws your attention to the altar, to the liturgy, to what the season is actually asking. It's a visual fast. You notice the absence more than you expected to.