"Sound the horn, proclaim a solemn fast" (Gl 2:15), says the prophet in the First Reading. Lent opens with a shrill sound, that of a horn that does not caress the ears, but proclaims a fast. It is a loud sound, meant to slow down our lives that are always running, but often do not know where. It is a call to stop - a "stop!" -, to go to the essentials, to fast from the superfluous that distracts. It is an alarm clock for the soul.

The sound of this wake-up call is accompanied by the message that the Lord delivers through the mouth of the prophet, a short and heartfelt message: 'Return to me' (v. 12). Return. If we must return, it means we have gone elsewhere. Lent is the time to retrace the course of life. Because in the journey of life, as in any journey, what really counts is not to lose sight of the destination. When on the journey what matters is looking at the landscape or stopping to eat, we do not go far. Each of us can ask ourselves: on life's journey, do I seek the course? Or am I content to live by the day, thinking only of getting well, solving a few problems and having a little fun? What is the course? Perhaps the pursuit of health, which so many today say comes first but which will pass sooner or later? Perhaps possessions and wealth? But we are not in the world for that. Return to me, says the Lord. To me. The Lord is the destination of our journey in the world. The course must be set on Him.

To find our course, today we are offered a sign: ashes on our heads. It is a sign that makes us think about what is in our heads. Our thoughts often chase after passing things, which come and go. The light layer of ash that we receive is to tell us, gently and truthfully: of the many things that you have on your mind, behind which you run and toil every day, nothing will remain. However much you toil, from life you will take no wealth with you. Earthly realities vanish, like dust in the wind. Goods are temporary, power passes, success fades. The culture of appearance, dominant today, which induces one to live for the things that pass, is a great deception. For it is like a blaze: once it is over, only ashes remain. Lent is the time to free ourselves from the illusion of living chasing the dust. Lent is to rediscover that we are made for the fire that always burns, not for the ashes that immediately go out; for God, not for the world; for the eternity of Heaven, not for the deception of the earth; for the freedom of children, not for the slavery of things. We can ask ourselves today: which side am I on? Do I live by fire or by ashes?

In this journey back to the essentials that is Lent, the Gospel proposes three stages, which the Lord asks us to go through without hypocrisy, without pretence: almsgiving, prayer, fasting. What are they for? Almsgiving, prayer and fasting bring us back to the only three realities that do not vanish. Prayer takes us back to God; charity to our neighbour; fasting to ourselves. God, brothers, my life: these are the realities that do not end in nothingness, in which we must invest. This is where Lent invites us to look: upwards, with prayer, which frees one from a horizontal, flat life, where one finds time for the self but forgets God. And then towards the Other, with charity, which frees from the vanity of having, from thinking that things are good if they are good for me. Finally, he invites us to look inside ourselves, with fasting, which frees us from attachments to things, from worldliness that anaesthetises the heart. Prayer, charity, fasting: three investments for a treasure that lasts.

Jesus said: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Mt 6:21). Our heart always points in some direction: it is like a compass in search of orientation. We can also compare it to a magnet: it needs to attach itself to something. But if it only attaches itself to earthly things, sooner or later it becomes a slave to them: things to be served become things to be served. Outward appearance, money, career, pastimes: if we live for them, they will become idols that use us, sirens that enchant us and then cast us adrift. Instead, if the heart attaches itself to what does not pass, we find ourselves and become free. Lent is a time of grace to free the heart from vanities. It is a time of healing from the addictions that seduce us. It is a time to fix our gaze on what remains.

Where then to fix our gaze along the path of Lent? It is simple: on the Crucified One. Jesus on the cross is the compass of life, directing us to Heaven. The poverty of the wood, the silence of the Lord, his stripping away out of love show us the need for a simpler life, free from too much preoccupation with things. Jesus from the cross teaches us the strong courage of renunciation. Because laden with cumbersome burdens, we will never move forward. We need to free ourselves from the tentacles of consumerism and the snares of selfishness, from always wanting more, from never being content, from a heart closed to the needs of the poor. Jesus, who on the wood of the cross burns with love, calls us to a life on fire with Him, one that is not lost in the ashes of the world; a life that burns with charity and is not extinguished in mediocrity. Is it difficult to live as He asks? Yes, it is difficult, but it leads to the goal. Lent shows us this. It begins with ashes, but in the end it leads us to the fire of Easter night; to discover that, in the tomb, the flesh of Jesus does not become ashes, but rises again in glory. It also applies to us, who are dust: if with our frailties we return to the Lord, if we take the way of love, we will embrace the life that does not fade. And we shall certainly be in joy.

[Pope John Paul II, St Sabina Lenten “station” 8 March 2000]