DUST

There's the dust that covers my furniture. And my window sills. The dust from crushed Smartie candies at the bottom of an old purse. The dust at the bottom of the Conversation Hearts bag. Neither tasty nor easily wiped away, drywall dust is the worst.

and then there is the dust that resides in a bin of parched, dry play sand. the moment the bin is opened a mist of sand dust rises up as a heavy fog. it's that dust i'm thinking about today. it reminds me of the fine, dry sand handed to me by funeral directors, in the days i presided at funerals, to sprinkle over the casket in the shape of a cross and proclaim "ashes to ashes, dust to dust." i always felt sad that the people gathered could hear what i was saying as i committed their loved one's body to the ground, but not see what i was doing. the shape i was making with the dust seemed seems is far more important or at least equally as important i think than the dust to dust word-picture of our humanity. there are, of course, words of hope and encouragement that followed the ashes to ashes and dust to dust part. big, multi-syllable words we don't say very often. but the dust to dust? those simple, ordinary words stick because we know what they mean. they conjure clear images like the dust-cloud that emerges from the bin of parched, dry play sand. which is why i hoped those gathered would take a moment as they were taking their leave to see the dusty funeral sand on the casket. so they would see the cross. the cross which means God's love conquers all.

Dust (ashes, really) placed in the shape of a cross on our foreheads or hands is a meaningful symbol of Ash Wednesday which we observed this week; it signifies the beginning of our journey through Lent to the cross of Good Friday and beyond, to the Good News of the empty tomb. It is an invitation to draw closer to God. To understand how much we need God. To understand more and more what it means that Jesus died on the cross for you and for me. And to embrace the hope we have because he did. You see, God doesn't see dust when He looks at us. He sees His children. And His love for them, for us, conquers all.

May your Lenten journey be blessed by the sure and certain knowledge of how much God loves. You.

Pastor Cathy