Ash Wednesday

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” This phrase accompanies the imposition of ashes upon those who are prepared to enter into the mysteries of Lent. It conveys a depth of meaning when understood in connection to the Scriptures. What is meant by this particular phrase? Why was it chosen to be the message connected with ashes? And how can it shape our Lenten journey?

This phrase about dust to dust is found at the very beginning of Genesis.  It occurs after the creation of the universe and of humanity, and it follows after the gift of the garden given by God to Adam and Eve.  We know what happens all too well in the garden: the serpent tempts our first parents to disobedience, to partaking of the forbidden fruit, and causes them to commit the first sin, that sin which has corrupted humanity ever since and has lead to a multitude of sins.  It is this mystery of iniquity which leads to the utterance of the phrase we are considering.

When God discovers that Adam and Eve have disobeyed Him, He exiles them from the garden as a punishment for their sin.  But it is not the only punishment that is imposed upon them. Eve is condemned to pain in childbirth, while Adam is condemned to labor strenuously for his daily bread.  But to both of them, and to all of us in turn, God makes this declaration: “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

With this phrase, God reminds us of what Saint Paul will declare much later: “The wages of sin is death.” (Rom. 6:23) The consequences of that first sin, and, in fact, of all sin, is the termination of our lives.  This phrase, then, in conjunction with the ashes, is meant to evoke for us the terrifying reality that we are bound for death, and that there is nothing we can do to stop it.  It is meant to draw us into consideration of the fact that not only Adam and Eve’s sins, but my own sins have brought about this inescapable truth: that, as John Donne wrote, “never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” (Meditation XVII)

Lent is meant to be a season of sorrow and woe: sorrow over the reality of sin, and woe over the reality of death.  But if that was the end of the story, if that was all that could be said about our situation, then truly every day should be a time of sorrow and woe.  We would either fall into despair over the miserable state of our human condition or we would try to divert our attention with ephemeral pleasures, never acknowledging or facing reality as it is.

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  There is a glimmer of hope upon the horizon as we once more keep this solemn fast.  It is the hope founded throughout all the prophets and holy people of the Old Testament.  It is the hope expressed particularly by Joel in our first reading when he commands all the Israelites to cry out, “Spare, O Lord, your people!” It is the hope that is embodied in the One whose birth we have so recently celebrated, and whose ultimate reason for living shall be revealed to us through this season.

As we begin this season, let us not merely be sorrowful, but let us be attentive to what it is that Jesus proclaims to us.  Let us cling to every word He proclaims, the word of truth and freedom, the word of salvation and redemption, the word of love and mercy.  Let us receive this word and be transformed by it over these next 40 days, so that we may learn not only the sorrows of this mortal life, but the joy that comes in Christ. Let us be sorry for our sins which have caused all this and express this sorrow through our prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Let us remember that we are dust, but let us learn how to be more than that, and how to overcome the final enemy of death in the passion and death of Christ, so that we may live on in the full splendor of His Resurrection.