Remember That You Are Dust, And To Dust You Shall Return

Last night I presided over the first Ash Wednesday service my church has ever done. It was quite a humbling experience; throughout the whole service my sins were exposed. Not just brought to mind, but exposed. Like the way the first sentence of this blog exposes the arrogance that motivated it (I wanted you all to know, or at least sense, that I was the one who proposed and pushed for the observance of Ash Wednesday. To know that I know my Christian Tradition). Last night I was repeatedly shown ways that, as a minister, I attempt¹ to take the work of the Holy Spirit into my own hands and desire, at least some, recognition. My posture, tone of voice, and thoughts (though internal, they are not private; thus in and through them God exposed my sinfulness) all betrayed my pride. Maybe not to all, but it really does not change my soul's standing before God if my students or volunteer staff are fooled.

It must sound strange for a sanctified Nazarene pastor to be talking about his sin. But it should not be. Truthfully, I believe that when we are sanctified, or, as we are being sanctified², confession becomes more and more a part of our lives. This is because as we mature in the faith our sin tends to become less visible. So we do not outgrow confession, but learn more and more how central it is to our sanctification. God uses it to draw deeper, more subtle, and more fundamental sin out of the shadowy recesses and into the purifying light. It is grace, by this means like a beautiful puss that pushes the splinter to the surface so that it can be shown for what it is and extracted.

Last night will stick with me. It was one of those moments that was consumed by what is real. There is nothing false about a convicted sinner, who often sins because he forgets how short and precious life truly is and from whence it comes, with ash on his forehead, marking his fellow penitents (one of whom happened to be his sister) with the cross and urging them to "remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." So it will not fade into the past but will always be present as I move into the future.



¹I originally typed this word in the past tense. I guess my purification was not completed at the close of last night's service.

²They are the same thing. So really, this sentence is redundant. I emphasized the "are being" because that is part we Nazarenes tend to overlook or de-emphasize in our own spiritual journey.