This is a sermon manuscript
for St. Martin's Lutheran Church of Austin, Texas.
In one of
my favorite plays there is a character,
a poor scorned young lover…
who is basically invisible
to the
object of his affection,
except when she’s being incredibly mean to
him.
He turns
to an older, wiser, mentor
for advice in his distress…
and with sadness at being treated so
badly.
“Celia
treats me like dirt!” he says,
with great self-pity and despair.
And with a sigh and a knowing look,
his
mentor pauses and says…
“Well…you
are dirt. We’re all dirt.”
The young lover is taken aback…
but launches back into his self-pity
almost instantly…
“Well,
then why can’t she at least treat me like
nice
dirt?”
On Ash
Wednesday, every year,
we hear what we have known
from the
beginning of time…
what we
often push into the back of our minds…
or try to hide for fear that someone else
will realize it…
realize what we really are…
nothing but
dust…
We say
out loud today what we have known
from the dawn of Creation…
we are earth…dust…dirt…
But
perhaps we forget that in those young days
of earth and sun and sea and sky…
God said
that everything God made was good…
that we were good…very good…
We are
dirt…but we are nice dirt. We are good dirt.
Today, we
remember how small we are…
and we are very small…
but not so small that the Lord of the
Universe
doesn’t choose to know us and care
for us.
There is
a Serbian proverb that says –
Be humble for you are made of earth.
Be
noble for you are made of stars.
Earthdust.
Stardust.
Remember you are dust.
You are
part of the dust under your feet…
and part of the dust in the blazing heart
of the farthest stars.
We wear that dust today… that ash…
to
remind us who and what we are.
As we enter this Lenten journey,
we
remember that we are part
of everything God made…
part
of everything Christ came to redeem…
and
we prepare now to witness his work
of saving the world again…
first
covered in the disgraceful dust
of a scandalous death,
only to break the bonds of death
and shine with the
resurrection’s stardust.
It turns out you can’t have one without the
other,
it seems.
Earth and stars.
Dirt….but good dirt.
St. Ambrose said that perhaps it would be better
if we
could actually baptize people
by burying them in earth
and
not just in water…
so we might really make the point.
Baptism into Christ…
is just as much about dying
as it is about living forever.
You
can’t have one without the other.
“Remember you are dust
and to dust you shall
return.”
These
words we hear today
could be enough to ponder
for the whole 40 day pilgrimage of Lent.
Perhaps if we didn’t worship again
until Easter
morning,
we
would have enough spiritual work to do,
just living with those ten words.
Out of this declaration
comes the whole
discipline of this season –
fasting, prayer, and acts of love…
not undertaken…
as the gospel writer warns
us…
so that we can be seen and praised by people
for being so good…
but because we remember that we are so small…
because we remember that each of us,
small, dusty, light-filled creatures of earth
are fashioned from dust…
will return to dust…
and
yet are loved by the Maker
of everything that is.
For those of us that return here
to worship on
Sundays…
or
gather for worship in the homes of members
of this congregation
on Wednesday evenings…
or go
to other church homes during these 40 days…
Maybe we go because the reminder of this day
is
not enough for us…
We
seek the nourishment of Holy Communion
and the communion of saints
as we walk through the valley of Lent.
Some of us take on spiritual disciplines
to
tether us to a reminder of God’s presence
in our daily routines.
Whether a spiritual discipline,
or a community
of faith,
or
simply the echo of those words,
“Remember you are dust”…
carries
you through these forty days…
may
you be blessed along the way.
May you carry with you the knowledge
that
you are small…limited…finite…mortal…
and blessed…beloved…good…
and held in the heart of the one who is Everlasting.
May you know that you are dirt…
but you good
dirt.
Be
humble for you are made of earth.
Be noble for you are made of stars.
Enter these forty days –
and
this journey with the God
who sees fit to come so close to us
that he takes on the earthy dust of our death…
to
carry us into the stardust of risen life.
Because if it is true
that you cannot have one
without the other,
We
know that it is also true that our God meets us
in both our death and our life,
and
as we walk through the valley of Lent…
Christ journeys with us…
so we
need never fear what and who we are….
because we are loved and known fully
by the one who made us and redeems us.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
