Death is, for many of us, a terrifying thing. It can be humbling to admit this as a Christian. After all, we proclaim that death has been defeated by Jesus, who faced his death stoically. As Catholics, we look toward the examples of the saints, among whom many not only faced their deaths calmly but even eagerly. That is not even to mention the martyrs, whose great faith and violent deaths can be at once both inspiring and humbling. Like St. Thérèse of Lisieux, I look upon those great saints in my littleness and fear and see only a wide gulf between us.

However, the Gospel is not meant for those who have already reached perfection. While it is important to remember that in some Gospels Jesus faced his death stoically, in others he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It is true that many saints faced their deaths serenely, but there were those who were tortured by doubt. St. Thérèse of Lisieux had a dark night of the soul that lasted for months before she died. St. Joan of Arc originally recanted because of her fear of the flames that would have burned her alive. While the beatific saint who faces their death with a milquetoast expression makes for good paintings and stained-glass windows, it is far from the only reaction acceptable to God. After all, God knows how difficult death can be. He died himself.

That is the beauty of Ash Wednesday. It turns our attention outward, away from our shame and fear, but toward a loving and understanding God. It is no accident that the Gospel readings for Ash Wednesday are not about death but Jesus’s instruction about how to live: to be generous, to pray secretly, and to fast gladly. By living in such a way, we are experiencing our own mini death, one that forces us to rely on a Lord who is “slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment.” At the start of the Lenten season, let us remember the compassion and grace of God, who understands our fears, and learn to lean on him.