ASHES & DUST

I can’t remember the last time, but I know that I have thought often, and occasionally written, about the natural disconnect between Lent and the beginning of spring. Has it ever seemed weird to you that we focus on “ashes to ashes” and “dust to dust” at about the time baseballs begin flying in Arizona and Florida, and we are once again seeing the ground on a fairly regular basis. Within a few weeks now it will be warm enough to fire up the grill and work in the yard again.

Now, of course, I know that our fathers in faith who laid the outline of the church year did so mindful only of their call to faithfully tell the story of sacrifice and salvation. It is a sure bet that baseball, yard work and barbeque were not on their agenda at all. The forty days (not counting Sundays) beginning Ash Wednesday start with the solemn mark of the cross on our foreheads and the dreadful, but perspective-establishing words, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

In the spirit of honesty I must say that I don’t groove with this whole business of returning to dust. I am having a great time on this earth, and I don’t want to see my fun come to an unexpected conclusion any time soon. What my selfishness really wants is for my church to ignore the whole business of betrayal, sacrifice, scourge, sin and crucifixion so that I can spout a few praise choruses and blithely pretend that every Sunday is Easter.

Not only does life not allow me -or you, or anyone else- to get away with such fantasy, neither does the God of our Bible or the tradition of our faith.

A couple of hours before writing these words, I learned of the death of my best friend in childhood. Eight months older than me and yard neighbors from birth through my teen years, we played trucks together as toddlers, baseball and basketball as grade-schoolers and Steppenwolf and Jethro Tull as young teens. Though I had no contact with him at all in adult years, hearing of the death of anyone at my age -especially someone who was a part of my life for a long time- was quite rattling.

But, you see, this story is the reality of life and the true presence of a real and living God. God is not a vending machine that doles out trite feel-good blessings in response to our token coins of prayer, faithfulness and good works. Neither is God a great juke-box well-stocked to play our favorites upon our whim and request.

God is the God of dust, and He is the God of ashes. He is the God Who calls us to mourn our sins that He might redeem them, not ignore them. He doesn’t allow us to pretend that death is not real, but He gives us the sure and certain hope of resurrection and life eternal. Yes, dust to dust and ashes to ashes, but dust and ashes that live anew, never to die again.

Soli Deo Gloria,
Bill