Dust and Ashes

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.  Today in many churches (and schools) (and on street corners too) people came forward to have ashes smeared on their forehead.  In many cases this action would have been accompanied by the traditional words "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return".

In my life I can only remember for sure having attended one Ash Wednesday service.   And that is the one I led when Ash Wednesday was the last Wednesday of February during the year when Riverview was holding an evening service on the last Wednesday of the month.  There may also have been an Ash Wednesday service while I was in my first and second years at St. Andrew's College but I can't remember for sure.

Why ashes?  Traditionally the Ashes used on Ash Wednesday come from burning the Palms used for Palm Sunday the previous year.  In part the Ashes remind us that the world still is not what it could be, that the world is still--to use theological language--held captive by sin, that the Reign of God has not yet fully come.  And so, as we embark on the journey that leads to betrayal and arrest, trial and conviction, hilltop cross and garden tomb we pause to remember that we are flawed human beings living in a flawed system (reading/watching/hearing the news on any day of the week reminds us how seriously flawed).  Lent is usually seen as a season of reflection on the world and our place in it.  Within that reflection is a time to name how we have missed the mark and how we might try better. An Ash cross on our forehead is a way to start that reflection.

In closing on the Ash Wednesday I leave you with the words of my favourite Ash Wednesday hymn, words are by Brian Wren with music by Ron Klusmeier (find it here), it is #105 in Voices United:

Dust and ashes touch our face,
mark our failure and our falling.
Holy Spirit, come,
walk with us tomorrow,
take us as disciples,
washed and wakened by your calling.
Take us by the hand and lead us,
lead us through the desert sands,
bring us living water,
Holy Spirit, come.

Dust and ashes soil our hands
greed of market, pride of nation.
Holy Spirit, come,
walk with us tomorrow,
as we pray and struggle
through the meshes of oppression.
Take us by the hand and lead us,
lead us through the desert sands,
bring us living water,
Holy Spirit, come.

Dust and ashes choke our tongue
in the wasteland of depression.
Holy Spirit, come,
walk with us tomorrow,
through all gloom and grieving
to the paths of resurrection.
Take us by the hand and lead us,
lead us through the desert sands,
bring us living water,
Holy Spirit, come.

As we start to walk toward the agony of the cross and the glory of the empty tomb, I encourage all of us to be honest about our role in the world -- the good and the bad, where we get it right and where we fall short.  Only through honesty can we find the way to make better choices.