A young mother decided this was the year to bring her little boy with her to Ash Wednesday services at their church. The boy sat quite patiently, mesmerized really, as he’d never been to a service quite like this one before. When it came time for the imposition of ashes, the boy and his mother walked up solemnly as the priest made the sign of the cross on their foreheads, saying “Remember you are but dust, and to dust you shall return… Remember you are but dust, and to dust you shall return.” 

Suddenly the boy startled, and looking up at his mother he said “Mom, what’s butt dust?!” 

That is my Ash Wednesday joke. You’re welcome.

It is a solemn occasion, really, and somewhat odd. Nowhere else in your life will you be asked let alone voluntarily show up some place to be reminded that you indeed are but(t) dust, mere matter, flesh and bone which lives, but yes, will one day die. Not only that, but soon you will voluntarily confess, on behalf of the whole world and yourselves that you are a sinner. A sinner bound for death… butt dust. 

It’s an odd thing, and it makes no sense until you know the scriptures.

In ancient Biblical practice, wearing dust, or sackcloth and ashes, is a sign of deep repentance, and even grief. Whether for grave sin, or in the midst of death, the Bible tells us of persons and whole peoples who put on sackcloth and ashes as a sign of humility, repentance, and mortality. It is a confession that the world, and our place in it, is fragile, broken, that we have not obeyed the law of the Lord, and we cannot save ourselves from death. 

It is a solemn thing, grave, and it’s also the truth. 

Now, the point is not just to be reminded of our sinfulness alone. No, contrary to what you may have heard or experienced, the church takes no pleasure in asking us to confess our failures and frailty. We don’t do this because it’s fun or because faith means feeling bad about yourself. No. We do this because it’s the truth about us, and the truth sets us free. But it is a truth that nowhere and no one else in the world will require or really allow you to admit. 

The fitness, fashion, and make-up industry won’t let you even admit that you’re aging, let alone dying. The Social Media & High School Reunion Industrial complex won’t let you admit you made a mistake. The internet remembers! The pressure to do more, be more, and “live your best life now” means that in our culture, we keep the ashes out back, buried deep. No butt dust allowed.

But that’s the thing. Though buried, hidden, covered or wiped clean from our digital footprints, the truth is not gone. We are frail. We fail. We die. This is the truth, but it’s not all of the truth. It is the beginning of an even deeper truth.

How did the prophet Joel put it? 

Yet even now, says the Lord,
return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
Return to the Lord, your God,
for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. 

Who knows… he might just give you a blessing instead of ashes,
a grain offering and a drink offering from the Lord, your God?

And look… Behold (he says gesturing toward the communion table) … bread and cup! Grain and drink! Here it is, just as promised.  

To put on ashes and dust acknowledges our repentance and need for a savior, but there’s more. It also acknowledges that dust is what God created us from in the first place.

It was in the Garden of Eden that God stooped down scooped up the dust of the earth and breathed into it the breath of life. And then at this table that Christ the new Adam gave us his body, his life, saying “Take and eat.” The putting on of ash and dust is more than a confession of sin and death, it is also an invitation for God to create us anew trusting in the promise that God makes beautiful things out of dust. 

As we begin this season of Lent, we don’t just do it as dying sinners bound for dust, we do it as children of the cross emblazoned on our foreheads. It is by the power of this cross through which Christ, a new Adam, is creating us anew, revealing his new creation in us, for us, and through us. 

We are sinners. We will all die. It’s true. We’re little more than butt dust. But God has not stopped creating out of dust. In fact, through Christ God has promised to gather up all things, all dust, all of us, even you, and gather them to himself, to make us new, to call us his beloved body, and then to lead us into everlasting life.

Ash Wednesday
A poem by Rev. Drew Colby

It’s funny.
There’s a place,
a square inch or so,
at the top of the forehead,
which is actually quite an intimate place.

It’s where the true roots of dyed hair are visible.
It’s where cosmetics end and
unvarnished, blemished flesh
can be seen.

It’s the frontier
of the recessive effects
of aging,
and illness,
and treatment,
and Death.

It’s a surprisingly intimate square inch or so of exposed human flesh.
And today, the message is clear,
that is where the cross goes.
Thank God