Ash Wednesday 2025

 When I was growing up, my grandma had a decorative plate with a picture of a little defiant boy and the words, “I know I’m somebody because God don’t make no junk.”  Tonight we hear the words, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  We go back to the story of Adam and Eve, made from the dust by God.  It doesn’t sound very glamorous.  In our human point of view, what is rare is of value, and what is abundant is not.  But God has a very different point of view.  If we came from dust, are we junk? If we are going back to dust, what is the value of our lives?

You are dust and to dust you shall return.  You are made of earth, and to earth you shall return. God created the earth, and created it good.  The value of the earth is intrinsic, but also in its ability to bring forth plants of every kind—its fertility, its tendency to share and give of itself.  In my Master Gardener studies, the very first day of class we learned about soil.  There is so much going on there!  We talked about the three sizes of particles of soil and how water does or doesn’t stick to them, how clay and sandy soil differ, how many microbes live in the soil, bacteria and fungus.  It’s all very exciting to a gardener.  But we’ve lost that connection with this earth.  We’ve taken it for granted because it is all around us.  We thought it was unlimited, because we couldn’t see it being depleted.  We took the short view instead of considering the long-term consequences of our treatment of God’s good creation.  We thought we were the pinnacle of creation—better than the rest.  We thought our job was to dominate creation, rather than be in partnership with it.  We have undone in a couple of thousand years what God put together over millions of years.  

God created the earth, itself fertile and good, and also a foundation life--for bringing forth plants of all kinds.  The plants became food for the animals, insects, beasts, and microbes.  The humans were made from the dust of the earth, from clay.  Earth and Earth creature—humankind  made of Earth, of soil.  The plants were given to humankind to eat and tend and keep, everything in relationship and balance.  What God saw as good, God created in abundance to give life to all. 

Remember that you are dust, that you are earth.  Remember where you came from, on whom you are dependent, who you owe your life to.  Remember, yes, that God made you, and also God made this Earth, and God don’t make no junk.  All God’s creation has value, so we love ourselves, we love each other and build life for each other, and we love this earth and tend and keep it, and it will tend and keep us.

Remember that there is a cycle to all this.  We will all deteriorate.  Our bodies will slow down, fall apart, stop working.  Our bodies will die.  We will become fertilizer for new life to spring forth.  We will become dust again, soil, giving life to other living things, plants, and animals and insects and microbes.  Our impact goes on—in the effect that we have on others, in the love we share—that impact goes on for generations.  We are part of everything else.  We are dependent on everything else and everything else is dependent on us.  Everything is interrelated in this abundant creation God made.   Knowing that we are mortal is tough news-that we will struggle, that we will die.  Yet, it is quite refreshing to think that someday all my mistakes and shortcomings will be forgotten, that someday I won’t struggle anymore, that someday I will be at peace and one with the earth and one with all creation, one with my Savior.

Even though our bodies are temporary, even though we are made from dust and will return to dust, we have worth to God our Creator.  God don’t make no junk.  God works through us to ease sorrow and pain in this world.  God works through us to bring healing and learning.  God works through us to share a message with a world in need—you are God’s good creation, you are of value, you are part of something, you matter.  And this message is not just for Christians or people, it is for all of God’s creation—every mountain, every tree, every river, every slug, every cow, every microbe, every field, every person regardless of beliefs or mistakes or past.  God don’t make no junk.  You are somebody.   You matter to God.  You matter to other creatures.  You are part of something good. 

It is so easy to get off track and to forget who we are.  The priests think they’re somebody because of their fancy robes and their long prayers.  We wonder, without my car or pickup truck, without my spouse or friends, without my tequila or wine, without my comfortable house, without my Facebook posts and all the comments and attention I get, who am I?  Am I still somebody?  We so fear that without all the decorations and comforts that we might be junk under there.  We fear that we aren’t enough.  That’s what the world tells us to scare us into buying things we don’t need.  If people can see my wrinkles, will I be enough?  Will anyone listen to me or care about me?  If I don’t have this or that cleaning product or a big flat screen TV with 3-D capability who am I?  These are the idols of our day.  These are the distractions that tell us we are never enough.  Do we own our treasures, or do they own us?

Religion can be one of these idols—the piety we practice.  We can sometimes wear it like a badge and judge others that we don’t think are doing it right.  At the same time we fear that we might not be doing it right.  Do we open our Bible to be seen by others?  Do we leave a big Bible out on the table so people think we read it?  Do we like the 10 Commandments to be displayed in our public spaces but not take time to evaluate whether we are living the commandments for ourselves?  Do we wear a cross around our neck or mark one on our forehead, but not stop to kneel at the cross or follow Jesus to the cross?  Do we listen to preachers who tell us what we want to hear or ones that challenge us to turn to God?  We have our traditions that we’re used to.  

 Lent is a time for seeing with the eyes of God what is of value and what idols we need to leave behind.  Whatever else we have been doing, we are invited to drop it.  We are invited to come together in community.  In community, we can see that we’re not alone, that we all make mistakes, that we influence each other for good or ill.  We get creative ideas for how to address our shortcomings.  We get inspired by community to follow Jesus.  We help each other turn around.  We see our dusty neighbors and we stand a little taller, knowing that we have value to each other and that we’re all falling apart back into dust.

Lent shows us the lies of this world that have been leading us away from God.  This world says, “Be comfortable.  Collect riches and fancy things.  Be noticed.  Be popular.  Talk a lot.  Get people to give you attention.  Be young.  Be skinny.  Be funny.  Influence other people.  Be powerful.  Be strong.   Be nice.  Have the most toys or gadgets.”  It’s a constant, exhausting race but we one we are born into and have a hard time quitting.  Lent is a time to empty ourselves of these lies.  To let go of what is not life-giving, what doesn’t define us anymore.  Lent is a time of welcome.  It is a time to open ourselves to welcome God’s teaching, it is an opportunity to welcome new life-giving practices like almsgiving/generosity, prayer, and fasting or giving up and making room. 

We welcome Jesus’ teaching.  Jesus is taking us into the wilderness to teach us to see what is truly eternal and worthy in God’s eyes.  Jesus teaches us about sacrifice.  Jesus teaches us to seek justice, not to blame the hungry and homeless for their situations, but name the systems of oppression that the world values but that destroy lives.  Jesus shows us the value of leaving the comfort of our armchair to build relationships with people different from us, especially people the world doesn’t value, children, prisoners, aliens, farm workers, widows, people with a little dirt on their faces.  And now that Lent has helped us to make room, we welcome all who God loves—this earth, its creatures, strangers, criminals, plants, and animals.  We open our arms and empty ourselves, preparing  ourselves to welcome and embrace together the new life, the new relationships, the abundance God offers and to be seen vulnerable with all our flaws and welcomed and loved all the same.