Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the traditional start to the season of Lent, and the beginning of our journey with Jesus toward the cross. Many of us experience it as a call to repentance—a call to make a conscious, deliberate turn toward God; to re-examine our lives in the light of who God is, and who God called has called us to be.
There’s a third emphasis, too—one that doesn’t sit as easily with our contemporary culture.
The roots of Ash Wednesday go all the way back to the story of Adam and Eve, and God’s response to their disobedience in the Garden of Eden. Before banishing them from the garden, God tells them what the consequences of their sin are:
“Because of your disobedience, you will work your whole life to produce food from the earth. And when your life is over, you will return to the ground from which you came. For you were made of dust, and to dust you shall return” (Genesis 3 :1 9
Those are the traditional words spoken to us on Ash Wednesday as we receive the mark of ash on our bodies: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
Over the centuries, this day has stood as a deliberate reminder of our mortality: a reminder that we are not God, and that—despite our best plans and efforts—all that we have and are will finally come to dust.
God knows how we were made; God remembers that we are but dust.
Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die.
The wind blows, and we are gone—as though we had never been here. (Psalm 1 03 :1 4 -1 6
Ash Wednesday reminds us that cannot place our confidence in the world around us. Our world is one of decay and death.
But that’s not all we remember. I read once that one branch of Hasidic Jews carry two slips of paper in their pockets. On one is written: “I am only ashes and dust.” The other reads: “For you, the universe was created.”
Ash Wednesday walks the knife-edge between these two truths: the inevitability of death, and the overwhelming love of God.
O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your name is all the earth!
When I look at the night sky and see the work of Your fingers—
the moon and the stars which You have set in place—
what are mortals that You should think of us;
mere mortals, that You should care for us.
Yet You have made us only a little lower than God,
and You crown us with glory and honour. (Psalm 8:1 , 3 -5 )
Ash Wednesday is about ashes. But it’s not only about ashes. It's about ashes in the form of a cross.
The ashes remind us that death is inevitable. But the cross reminds us that, by the grace of God, death is not the end. By the grace of God, we are not left alone or abandoned. Just like a name written in the front cover of a book identifies the owner of a book, so too the sign of the cross in ash on our bodies reminds us that we do not ultimately belong to this world, but to our gracious and loving God.
