Remember…
On Ash Wednesday, we have a splendid custom where the ashes from last year’s Palm crosses are imprinted on our foreheads. You may have seen folk walking around with this grey smudge on their forehead and wondered what all the fuss was about.
The words said while the ashes are being placed on the person’s head are…
“Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return”
It’s pretty confronting stuff, but it is both real and authentic. There’s no getting around it. The mortality rate for any given population anywhere on the earth is always 100%. Nothing more… nothing less.
Ash Wednesday this year saw me having some surgery. You see, clergy, too, are mortal. Very mortal. Cut us, and we bleed. Snatch away our loved ones in death, and we sob. Hearten and embolden us, and we grin broadly. If you happen to be part of a worshipping community, you may consider how to minister to your minister… if that makes sense.
As I tried to prepare for surgery (how do you do that anyway?) I pondered that as my mortal body was being sliced open, right around the world, people were praying, being reminded that they are dust and to dust they shall return.
Ash Wednesday catapulted us into the forty days of Lent, onto Easter, to infinity and beyond.
The good news of Ash Wednesday is that death does not have the last word. Life does. The cross on the forehead should be a visible reminder of that. The seemingly inconsequential guy on the cross actually has great consequences for us, especially when we find ourselves gathered with others in the presence of a shiny coffin.
And it all began with a smudgy cross on our forehead and muttering those humbling but necessary words.
Remember you are dust… and to dust you shall return.