Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. I learned this week that the word “Lent” comes from a Latin word meaning “lengthen,” in reference to the lengthening days of Spring. That seems to me to be a very Western, northern hemisphere, Euro-centric moniker, but, I guess since they started it, they get to name it. Seems like they could have put a more spiritual name on it, but who am I to tell 4th-century religious leaders what to do… So sorry to all of you down under who are finding your nights lengthening. Perhaps you can find some spiritual significance in that as well?
Regardless of its entomological origins, Lent is a sacred time in the Christian calendar. It is 6 weeks of reflection on the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord, and on our sin and brokenness that caused it, and on the goodness and grace that was wrought for us by Him. Typically we think of Lent as being 40 days, patterned after the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness fasting and communing with His Father after His baptism. However, if you count the days in Lent, you’ll find there are more. This is because Lent is a time of lament and sacrifice, but also a time of celebration. Traditionally, on the Sundays in Lent, all fasting and deprivations cease, and it is a day of celebrating and rejoicing in the hope of resurrection, culminating in the ultimate celebration of His resurrection on Easter. So today starts a series of 6 cycles of fasting and reflective contemplation on our brokenness and sin for 6 days followed by a day of rejoicing that He has done it! He canceled every curse and won the victory over sin we could not win. Isn’t that a great tradition?!
Many traditions start Lent with a service on Ash Wednesday, often accompanied by the “imposition of ashes,” or the sign of the cross made on the forehead using ashes. Sometimes, while the ashes are being placed on the forehead, the pastor or priest will say, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” Now, that sounds rather morbid, if you think of it as a physical thing. But as with most symbolic practices, the meaning is much deeper than the physical element being used. The ashes for Ash Wednesday are traditionally made from the burning of the palm branches used on Palm Sunday the year before. Weird? Not really. Think about it. One day the crowds are welcoming Jesus with exuberant joy, and 5 days later they are screaming for His death. Granted, probably not all of the people went through such a rapid downgrade, but the truth of the matter is, that is us – on the regular. We move quickly from exuberant joy, faithful trust, and effusive praise to bitter grief, doubtful distrust, and vitriolic complaining when we are met with a trial or a deprivation we don’t believe we deserve. We are dust. That might sound like a denigration of humans, but I believe it is a helpful humility. One of my favorite verses is Psalm 103:13-14, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.” He remembers that we are dust. And from that remembrance flows compassion.
What if remembering that I am dust could evoke the same self-compassion that my Father has for me? What if remembering my “dustiness” is a way of keeping my self in perspective, my expectations realistic, and my thoughts about myself in line with His? Not in a denigrating, self-deprecating way. But in a compassionate and loving way.
My church, not from a high-church tradition, just started Ash Wednesday services last year, and this year is adding the imposition of ashes. I’m excited. I’ve never participated in that before, but I anticipate reflecting on my “dustiness” as a good way to move into Lent.
And this year, if you are pondering how to observe Lent, I encourage you to change the question. Don’t ask, “what should I give up?” Instead ask, “what can I engage this season that will draw me deeper into Christ?” That may include giving something up, or it may mean trying out a new practice or activity that you’ve been putting off. It may mean loving your neighbors differently, or approaching your work differently. Ask the Lord to show you what HE wants for you this Lenten season as we prepare for the ultimate celebration of our Christian tradition.
There is a poem that has blessed me every Ash Wednesday for the past few years. It is by Jan Richardson, one of my new favorite poets. (I just bought a book of her poetry!) It’s called “Blessing the Dust” and I will share it with you below.
Jesus started his journey into the wilderness with a bold affirmation of the Father’s love for Him and His value to the Father. (Matt. 3:17) I want myself and each of you to start this Lenten journey with that same affirmation. Listen to the Father’s words over you – “You are my beloved child whom I love. In you, I am well pleased.” Journey into Lent this week remembering that you are dust, and knowing that you are SO deeply loved!
Blessing the Dust
All those days
you felt like dust,
like dirt,
as if all you had to do
was turn your face
toward the wind
and be scattered
to the four corners
or swept away
by the smallest breath
as insubstantial—
did you not know
what the Holy One
can do with dust?
This is the day
we freely say
we are scorched.
This is the hour
we are marked
by what has made it
through the burning.
This is the moment
we ask for the blessing
that lives within
the ancient ashes,
that makes its home
inside the soil of
this sacred earth.
So let us be marked
not for sorrow.
And let us be marked
not for shame.
Let us be marked
not for false humility
or for thinking
we are less
than we are
but for claiming
what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff
of which the world
is made
and the stars that blaze
in our bones
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge
we bear.
—Jan Richardson