My grandma died a little over a week ago. She was 83, and
suffered from Alzheimer’s and too many health issues. Praise God for the blessing of peace, and
for the promise of the resurrection. My aunt and I went down to see her at the
beginning of February, and she seemed to be just a shell of the grandma I
remembered spending time with only a few months previous. But it was good to
see her, and to bring the photo book I had put together, even if it never seemed
that her eyes were open long enough to look at it.
There was one tiny burst of her old self – the hospice nurse
was doing the intake evaluation and told Grandma she needed to lift up her
shirt a little bit. Grandma, who had been silent and with closed eyes for much
of the day, opened her eyes at that moment and said, “Story of my life…” It was
hilarious (and sad), but brought a much-needed smile to our faces.
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| Visiting the Wartburg Castle, Eisenach, Germany - 2006 |
Today, while waiting at the mechanic in between two Ash Wednesday services, my mom called. I went outside to talk, and there were loud mechanic noises going on, so when I heard my mom say “ashes”, I assumed she meant the church kind of ashes, so I said, “Yeah, me too. We had a tiny service at noon.” Then the loud mechanic noise stopped, and she repeated herself. “No, I said I picked up Grandma’s ashes this morning.”
Oh.
Not the church kind of ashes. And, exactly the church
kind of ashes.
Because when the black, ashen cross is smeared on the foreheads of
babies, and kids, and adults, and old people, the pastor says, “Remember that you
are dust, and to dust you shall return.” That’s not some sort of spiritual
statement. It’s physical. Physical bodies that decay and return to dust, the
stuff of creation.
As I said in my sermons today, the ashes with which we are
marked remind us of who we are – Mortal. People who are marred by the
blackness of Sin. Bodies that will eventually die, and be dust and ash.
And, the ashes are marked in the sign of the cross, a reminder
of whose we are. At baptism a cross was traced with anointing oil on
that same forehead, and these words were spoken: “Child of God, you have been
sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.”
Forever! Not even being reduced to literal, physical dust can separate us from
God.
Ash Wednesday meant something a little different for me
after I got off the phone with my mom. Ashes, relationships, family, life, and
death – all good things to think about this season of Lent.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
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