For Dust You Are

We’re now beginning the second full week of Lent, that 40-day period of self-examination, repentance, and preparation for the Church’s public remembrance of Christ’s death and resurrection. It is a time to focus on the purpose and cost of Christ’s sacrifice to save us from our sins and their consequences by his taking those sins and their consequences upon himself. In general, Lent is a somber and reflective time.

In general, Lent is a somber and reflective time.

The day before this year’s first Lenten service – Ash Wednesday – I had received word that an old friend had died. His death was not unexpected; in fact he and his wife had asked me to do the service when the time came, and I had met with them twice in preparation for that service. Before those visits, it had been a while since we had met and though he had real difficulty talking due to his illness, the time we spent together was very meaningful to me. I was able to share with him good memories of times we had worked together in several church ministries, and of the impact he had made on me over the years. His death and my memories of him were very much on my mind when I entered the sanctuary to worship on Ash Wednesday.

Worship began with a hymn, followed by silent, public confession of our sins. Then, in keeping with Ash Wednesday traditions around the world, the pastors called us forward to do what gave “Ash Wednesday” its name: they imposed ashes on our foreheads in the shape of a cross. As each one received his or her mark, the pastors proclaimed the words which God spoke in Genesis 3:19, “. . . you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

“. . . you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

As I waited my turn, I watched the pastors impose the ashes and heard them repeat their somber litany. Almost all 300+ people present received the ashes, including infants, toddlers, kids, teens, young adults, and all ages of mature adults up to those in their 90s. As I watched them go forward and heard the pastors pronounce “dustship” (my own word, not a correct Lenten term) on each person, it struck me that every one of them, me included, will one day have his or her own funeral. The passing of my friend and his impending memorial service would not be unique events; the pastors were reminding us that the day will come for all of us when we will return to the dust from which we were formed.

Even though the knowledge of death’s universality was not new to me, and as a pastor I had often preached or read scriptures which proclaimed this fact, on this night it struck me differently. There was something about each person, regardless of age, being reminded of their mortality that was powerful. For an instant I pictured a multitude of funerals, with each person’s life being remembered and grieved over, and I felt overwhelmed with the enormity (look it up) of death and its impact.

It was similar to the feeling I had when I imposed ashes on two previous Ash Wednesdays (once at St. Peter’s in Elk Grove and once at St. George Lutheran in Indiana). On both occasions I found it difficult to get through the ritual: each time it was very moving to stand face-to-face with people who came forward, people of faith, friends and loved ones, and to tell each one, basically, “You’re going to die.” Now, even though this year I didn’t have to say those words, the thought of each person having a funeral was still quite sobering.

Even if I were called upon to conduct funerals for everyone there that night (at least until my own service!) it would be just a fraction of what another Lutheran pastor once actually did. The Rev. Martin Rinkart was pastor in Eilenburg, Germany during the Thirty Years’ War. In 1637 a severe plague struck the town and thousands died. Even though many – including the other pastors – fled to escape the disease, Martin Rinkart stayed behind, ministering to the people in their distress and burying over 4,000 of them, including his own wife and daughter. I can’t imagine his grief or his spiritual strength to endure what he did. Yet in spite of what he went through, he wrote the hymn, “Now thank we all our God”!

How could Pastor Rinkart endure what he did? The same way we can accept the ashes on our foreheads and hear, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.” It’s about faith. We can accept the challenge of death because we know there is a lot more to the story.

We can accept the challenge of death because we know there is a lot more to the story.

If Genesis 3 is where death is pronounced on mankind because of our sin, the entire remainder of the Bible is about God’s plan of salvation to redeem us from the curse of the Law and its sentence of death and judgment.

Lent begins with the reality of sin and death, but it doesn’t end there. For after this period of recognizing our sinfulness and mortality, the season ends with God himself doing what only he could do – and sacrifice his own Son on the Cross for our forgiveness and immortality. The Christian faith is not a cult of death; it is a movement that proclaims life – new life, eternal life – as a gift from the God who created us and gave us life in the first place. Through faith in Jesus Christ and his sacrifice we receive forgiveness and become children of God (John 1:12).

Therefore, no matter what happens to us now, no matter when our own memorial is held or when we return to the dust which we once were, we will live again. On the way to raise his friend Lazarus from the dead, Jesus told Lazarus’ sister Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes and me, though he dies, yet shall he live. And everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” (John 11:25-26) When Jesus arrived at his friend’s grave, he wept briefly, and then called out with authority, “Lazarus, come out!” and out walked the man who had been dead.

The day will come when Jesus will call out the names of those who went forward on Ash Wednesday

The day will come when Jesus will call out the names of those who went forward on Ash Wednesday – me included – along with all who hope in the Lord, and we too will rise from the dead, never more to be dust, fully clothed in immortality. For if we were anointed with ashes to remind us of our deaths, so also at our baptisms we were anointed with the water of life. As you go forward through the coming weeks, may you remember even in your most somber moments, that those who live and believe in Jesus Christ will never truly die, but will have eternal life!

May the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord look upon you with favor, and give you peace. Amen.

Read: John 11:1-44