Ash Wednesday Meditation
Power and the Way of Jesus
Dear Substack Community: I have been deeply shaped by the Liturgical Calendar of the Christian Church. I didn’t grow up in a liturgical tradition, but when I was in seminary studying with United Methodists and other Wesleyans, I fell in love with the Liturgical Calendar as a way to guide me in a queer way. So, today, is Ash Wednesday, where we mark the 40 days before Lent, a season where we meditate on our Life and the Life of Jesus.
I’d like to start writing on power and the ways of Jesus. Below is my first meditation on this subject and I hope it enlivens your journey in the next 40 days.
Let us empty ourselves of the mimetic desire to horde power and accumulate control. Let us empty ourselves of all that distorts our reality.
Paz, —RCE+
Ash Wednesday Meditation: Power and the Way of Jesus
Dust settles in the creases of our skin, reminding us where we come from and where we are going. Ashes mark our foreheads, tracing the shape of the cross—the symbol of power undone, of life given away, of love poured out.
Lent begins with this mark, this smudged reminder that we are finite creatures. Yet, in our daily lives, we grasp for control, secure our influence, build fortresses around what is “ours.” Power, in the way of empire, is about accumulation. It seeks to consolidate, to hoard, to wield authority over others. It is a clenched fist, a tightened jaw, a system designed to serve the few at the expense of the many.
But the way of Jesus disrupts this logic.
Though he had every reason to seize power, he emptied himself (Philippians 2:5-8). He refused domination and chose collaboration. He did not build an empire but a table. He did not command legions but walked dusty roads with fishermen and tax collectors, with outcasts and the brokenhearted. His power was found in healing, in listening, in feeding the hungry, in challenging unjust systems not with the sword but with truth, with presence, with love that refused to retreat.
To follow Jesus into Lent is to unlearn the habits of empire. It is to relinquish the illusion of control and step into the work of repair. The world is broken—by greed, by oppression, by our collective insistence that power is something to be kept rather than given away. But Lent invites us into another way, the way of the open hand, the way of surrender that is not passive but courageous, not weak but wildly transformative.
What would it mean for us to empty ourselves of the need to dominate, to be right, to win? What might we discover in the ashes of our striving?
This season is not about self-denial for its own sake, nor about performance or religious spectacle. It is about remembering that true power is not in grasping but in giving. Not in hoarding but in sharing. Not in domination but in love that refuses to turn away from suffering.
So today, let the ashes remind us: we are dust, beloved and holy. We are dust, meant for the work of repair. We are dust, held in the hands of a God who does not conquer but redeems.
Lent begins. Let us walk the way of Jesus.
We are gently called to follow the way of truth. Do we have the capacity to do that in this time of Technofascism? It takes courage to follow the Way.
Paz, -Roberto Che Espinoza+