The faithful trudged up the hill to Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center on the first Ash Wednesday after the Eaton Fire, clutching umbrellas along with their hopes that this season of Lent could lead, from ashes to ashes and on to an Easter of new beginnings.

The Sierra Madre center was one of many houses of faith that marked the beginning of Lent, the 40 days Christians observe with prayer and penance before Easter. In the still-scarred landscapes of the Eaton and Palisades fires, believers said this first Ash Wednesday brought with it a stark visual of that fire that destroys but also cleanses.

“We, the Mater Dolorosa retreat center community, along with all affected, find ourselves walking a path of sorrow and renewal,” said Rev. Febin Barose, director of the 101-year-old center.

The Eaton Fire decimated more than 14,021 acres in Altadena, Pasadena and Sierra Madre after it broke out on Jan. 7, killing 17. More than 9,000 structures were destroyed. In the Palisades, the 23,707 acres destroyed included almost 7,000 structures reduced to rubble. In both wildfires, houses of worship fell to ash.

But much of the conversation Wednesday focused as much on renewal as on ruin.

“The recent fire has left visible scars on our beloved grounds,” said Barose, “yet it’s also ignited a deeper awareness of Christ’s journey to Calvary.”

A slice of heaven, even in the rain

On the Sierra Madre campus, Karla Burden of Monrovia held an umbrella over visitors as she escorted them from their cars to the chapel. A longtime volunteer, she said the center is a little slice of heaven for her.

“Even in the rain, I love it here,” Burden said. “This Lent, I think we have to go through some tragedy in order to regrow.”

Mater Dolorosa’s hermitage, garage, and staff apartment burned down. In the center’s famed outdoor areas, the Seven Sorrows Garden, St. Paul of the Cross fountain, and Stations of the Cross were damaged. A building roof and two floors of the center’s main building also needed repairs. Insurance won’t cover everything, so the religious order that runs the center is fundraising.

This recovery phase is called “a journey of hope under the shadow of the Cross,” Barose said.

The center’s name, after all, calls to Mary, Mater Dolorosa, or Mother of Sorrows, standing at the foot of the Cross. But we know sorrow is never the end of the story, Barose added.

“The Resurrection is coming. Mater Dolorosa will shine again with faith and support as a place of grace, peace, and renewal,” he said. “May this Lent draw us closer to Christ, whose love conquers all suffering and leads us to new life.”

More than 2,500 people attend Good Friday devotions at Mater Dolorosa before Easter, and volunteer Pat Wickhem, 78, of Sierra Madre will be ready to lead the prayers. He has been attending retreats at Mater Dolorosa with his father since he was a young man.

“God spared this place and to see the joy and of everyone here today, I just feel so blessed,” he said.

Jose Diaz, 72, of East Los Angeles, brought his wife and grandson to the place he said has given him so much.

“Lent is a special time for us Catholics to deepen our faith in our traditions and remember, out of the ashes comes new life and we can be renewed,” Diaz said. “I love to talk but to come here for the men’s silent retreats, I leave with hope in my heart.”

Paulina Baeza of Fillmore brought four of her seven children to the center because she wanted them to see where she found much comfort at retreats.

“Mater Dolorosa saved my life,” Baeza said. “And coming here, in the rain, I prayed my children would know how to love Jesus and follow Him and find the healing and comfort I found.”

In Altadena, a hero returns to his church

At fire-damaged Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Altadena, Deacon José Luis Díaz, 68, was hailed as a hero in the days after the fire. Already safe at the evacuation center at the Pasadena Convention Center, Díaz was asleep when his wife woke him to report the church was on fire.

Díaz, his son-in-law and two other parishioners arrived to see flames licking at a wooden roof near the church’s boiler room. They broke burning shingles off the roof and hosed it down until the flames were out. Within minutes of their arrival, eight homes in front of and across the church broke out in flames, explosions punctuating the danger.

In the church parking lot, Diaz said plants in flames made it seem like fire was on the ground. Mini-tornados whished at his feet.

“I raised my arms and said, ‘What now, God?’ and the wind moved away,” Diaz said. “People tell me I am a hero or an angel but I don’t feel like that. I am just doing the things God told me.”

Ordained a permanent deacon for the Archdiocese of Los Angeles in 2015, Diaz and his wife Maria Esther, have lived in Altadena since 1989, raising their four children there. Still living in hotels two months after the fire, the Diazes hope to return to their home this week.

A retired machinist who finds comfort in reading the Psalms, Diaz said the church, still showing burns from the fire, draws a full house at the 9 a.m. Mass every Sunday.

While the parish hall, rectory and convent were being cleaned, the congregation found a temporary home at St. Andrew Church in Pasadena. The Altadena church reopened on Feb. 2.

“People, even when they have to come from where they live now, they are here,” he said, “and we are staying here always.”

In a Santa Monica church, loving their neighbors as themselves

The plights of victims of the nearby Palisades fire continue to dwell in the minds of congregants at St. Monica’s Catholic Church.

More than 100 early risers began their day on Wednesday with a 6:30 a.m. service at the Santa Monica church that has long hosted members from nearby Pacific Palisades.

“It’s Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent,” declared Silvia Sanchez of Santa Monica. “We just pray for people to get better and get back on their feet.”

“It’s really hard,” she said. “It’s really hard for our community.”

Back in January, St. Monica’s parishioners welcomed their peers from Corpus Christi Church. The 60-year-old church was destroyed by the wind-propelled firestorm that tore through the community.

“When you get the ashes placed on your forehead, they say, ‘Remember, from dust you came, and to dust you’ll return,’” said Sean Delehunt of Los Angeles, “so I just think about the kind of fleeting nature of life and it’s a reminder.”

“I’m in my 40s, so I don’t really think about death, (but) one day I’ll be gone, I’ll be dead, I’ll be ash or nothing, so it’s just kind of a reminder of the present moment,” he said.

It was a relatively short ceremony led by Rev. Vince Kuna. While he didn’t touch on the Palisades fire, he advised parishioners that it was appropriate to proudly wear the mark of the ash in order to show off their faith on this particular day.

“Some say it’s okay to be a little bit public now and then, and to blow that trumpet … Yes, I want to be counted in that when the saints go marching in,” he said.

Hillary McCarthy of Santa Monica noted the metaphoric connection of the fire as it relates to ash and loss of earthly possessions.

“I guess part of the ash is kind of reminding us that life is short and you can’t take it with you,” she said.

“To ashes we shall return, so with the fires, thankfully most of the people are safe, but all the possession didn’t make it,” McCarthy said. “So it’s like, Okay, even though that’s really tough, that’s not the most important thing.”

Moved by the examples she has seen set by victims of the fire that she knows, Marisa Christina Ramos of Santa Monica said the resiliency and sense of perspective they’ve exhibited is remarkable.

“I’ve seen nothing but hope from the people that have had to leave their church,” she said of people she knows from the Palisades, including parishioners from Corpus Christi Church, which was lost in the fire. “They’ve had to leave their church and come here.”

“It’s been amazing,” Ramos said. “I’ve heard people speak whose houses are ashes now and they talk like nothing even happened to them. It’s really inspiring, because we’re so caught up in our materialistic things.”

“The Lord,” she added, “works in mysterious ways.”