Wednesday Read: Ash Wednesday - Remember You Are Dust
Today priests mark foreheads with ashes made from burning last year's Palm Sunday palms, speaking words that echo Genesis 3:19: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." It's a stark confrontation with mortality in a culture that denies death. No platitudes, no positive thinking, no pretense - just brutal honesty about the human condition. You are dust. You are dying. You cannot save yourself.
The ashes form a cross on your forehead, visible to everyone you encounter today. You can't hide it, can't make it subtle, can't pretend you're not marked. It's public acknowledgment of private reality: you're mortal, sinful, and desperately in need of a Savior. In a culture obsessed with image management, Ash Wednesday forces uncomfortable honesty.
These ashes come from last year's celebration. The palms people waved shouting "Hosanna!" while Jesus entered Jerusalem are now reduced to dust marking our foreheads. The branches that celebrated his arrival now testify to our mortality. It's a powerful symbol: our celebrations turn to ashes, our victories become dust, everything we build eventually crumbles. The crowds that shouted "Hosanna!" would soon shout "Crucify him!" Human enthusiasm is as temporary as palm branches.
But Ash Wednesday isn't just about death - it's preparation for resurrection. You can't appreciate Easter if you haven't honestly faced what made Easter necessary. You can't celebrate resurrection if you haven't acknowledged the death that required it. You can't rejoice in new creation if you haven't confessed the brokenness of the old.
The church begins Lent not with motivational speeches or positive affirmations but with ashes and death. Not "you can do it!" but "you are dust." Not "believe in yourself!" but "you need a Savior." Not "try harder!" but "you're dying and powerless to stop it." This honesty feels wrong to modern sensibilities, but it's the necessary foundation for genuine gospel hope.
Genesis 2:7 says God formed man from dust and breathed life into him. The same dust that marks your mortality is the material God used to create humanity. You are dust - but you're dust God loves. You're dying - but you're dying into the hands of the One who raises the dead. You're marked with ashes today - but Easter is coming.
Joel called Israel to "return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (Joel 2:13). This is the promise behind Ash Wednesday's stark honesty: God receives repentant dust. He doesn't wait for you to clean yourself up before welcoming you back. He meets you in the ashes, in the brokenness, in the honest acknowledgment of who you really are.
Today begins forty days of preparation for Easter. Forty days to face what you usually avoid - your mortality, your sin, your desperate need for grace. Forty days to strip away pretense and acknowledge truth. Forty days to prepare your heart to receive resurrection by first honestly facing death.
The ashes on your forehead testify to two realities: you are dust, and God loves dust enough to redeem it. You're dying, and Christ died so you could live. You're broken, and his death makes you whole. Ash Wednesday marks you with death, but Easter promises resurrection. Both are true. Hold both.
