Lenten Noonday Preaching Series
Calvary Episcopal Church
Memphis, Tennessee

Ash Wednesday
February 28, 2001

The Freedom of Being Dust
The Very Rev. Ward B. Ewing

Dean and President
The General Theological Seminary
New York, New York


(This sermon is also available in audio.)



Last week I atttended a conference where Dr. Martin E. Marty, the incredibly knowledgeable church historian, now emeritus, from the University of Chicago, gave the keynote addresses. At one point Dr. Marty spoke of the reductionist understandings of humanity with which we are confronted. He referred to them as "Humanity is nothing but . . ." You know, the computer scientist who says, Humanity is nothing but a sophisticated computer. Or the biologist who says, Humanity is nothing but the collection of genes we have now decoded in the human genome. Or the behaviorist who says, Humanity is nothing but a seeker of pleasure and an avoider of pain. Obviously if one puts all those reductionist understandings together, humanity gets pretty complicated. Reductionist views have a valid insight, but there is always more to be said.

Today is Ash Wednesday: the beginning of Lent. (Or in New Orleans it is the day after the end of Mardi Gras.) And the church does a strange thing on this day. For those who desire it, we place ashes on their foreheads as we say, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." Sounds like the ultimate reductionist view: Humanity is nothing but dust. So what is the insight here, and what more is there to say?

There is nothing pretty about dust. Dust covers furniture, glass vases, counter tops; it changes the lovely, shiny, sparkling object into dull. My grandmother lived in the country on an unpaved road. I remember driving behind other cars on dusty roads. That was pretty miserable. I remember the dust from the road filling the house. We put calcium chloride on the road in front of our house. That would turn the dust to mud. Even mud is better than dust.

Dust is not like sand. When a child plays in the sand pile, we can brush the sand off. But when one works in a field all day, he returns in the evening covered with dust. No matter how much he brushes off, he will still leave a ring in the tub. There is nothing attractive about dust. The best we can do is clean up what we can and sweep the rest under the rug.

To call someone dust in any other context would be fightin' words. Don't call me dirt. So why do we do this strange thing on this day. Remember, you are nothing but dust. What is this about?

First, this day reminds us of our creation. From Genesis 2, the second creation story in Genesis:

In the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens,
when no plant of the field had yet sprung up -- for the Lord God
had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was no one
to till the ground... then the Lord God formed man from the dust
of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and
the man became a living being.

James Weldon Johnson, the great Negro poet and activist of the first half of the twentieth century, tells the story of creation in his book God's Trombones. Listen to a portion:

And God stepped out on space,
And he looked around and said:
I'm lonely --
I'll make me a world,

And far as the eye of God could see
Darkness covered everything,
Blacker than a hundred midnights
Down in a cypress swamp

Then God smiled,
And the light broke,
And the darkness rolled up on one side,
And the light stood shining on the other,
And God said: That good!

* * * *

[And Johnson relates the creation of the lights of the heavens, the plants, the animals, and all the living things. But God is still lonely.]

* * * *

Then God sat down --
On the side of a hill where he could think;
By a deep, wide river he sat down;
With his head in his hands,
God thought and thought,
Till he thought: I'll make me a man!

Up from the bed of the river
God scooped the clay;
And by the bank of the river
He kneeled him down;
And there the great God Almighty
Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
Who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night,
Who rounded the earth in the middle of his hand;
This Great God,
Like a mammy bending over her baby,
Kneeled down in the dust
Toiling over a lump of clay
Till he shaped it in his own image;

Then into it he blew the breath of life,
And man became a living soul.
Amen. Amen.

Dust is the material of a beloved creation. We cannot -- must not -- despise this loving work. This Great God, like a mammy bending over her baby, knelt down in the dust 'til He shaped us in the Divine image and breathed into us the breath of life.
You are the object of such love. I am the object of such love. Remember that you are dust. You are not worth much as a commodity, but you are loved, beloved, shaped, molded, caressed, nurtured by the Loving God who made the stars and the moon, all the creatures of this world. Remember you are dust -- precious, precious dust.

Second, this day reminds us of our mortality. "Dust your are and to dust you shall return."

I am reminded of the words from the burial office, "We commit this body to its final resting place, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

It's not morbid to think about death; it's just the reality we all face. Death is the great equalizer. In death there are no presidents of corporations, no deans of universities, no lowly janitors, no prisoners, no homeless on the street, no rich folks, no poor folks. All of us are in the hands of the loving God -- that's it. The trinkets of honor and position -- dust and ashes. The shame from others' judgments -- dust and ashes. When we remember, to dust you shall return, we remember that we are made for more than trinkets or shame. We are made for life with God - now and forever.

"And to dust you shall return." Ash Wednesday reminds us that we are mortal, and in so doing confronts us with a simple question: We have only one life. How do we want to spend it?

Third, when we understand how precious we are to the One who created us from dust, and when we understand that we are made not just for this life but for eternity with God, then we can be free. Freedom - personal freedom - comes from knowing who we are and where we are going. We are free from being affected by other people's judgment of us. You know, it doesn't matter who you are, others can find fault. If you work hard, people will say you're uptight. If you enjoy life, people will say you're lazy. If your wealthy, people will think you used and abused others to become rich. If your poor, people will look down on you, pity you, and assume you are incompetent. It doesn't matter who you are, people can always find fault; they can always find a way to put you down.

I'm the Dean of General Seminary -- that's pretty big stuff. But people look down at me all the time. Some say he doesn't have a Ph.D., can't speak German. What kind of a dean is that? Others say he's too academic, has his head in the clouds, in the ivory tower. What does he do for the church?

The deep truth of Ash Wednesday -- all those judgments do not matter.

If we spend all our time trying to make others admire us, we will drive ourselves crazy. But if we know who we are -- beloved children of God -- who can look down on that? If others look down on God's child -- that's you, that's me -- they only show their ignorance. They do not know who we are; they do not recognize our importance. We are human beings, dust, beloved of God; we -- each one of us -- are of ultimate worth -- you, me, Doug, all humanity. We are created for eternity! What is someone's criticism compared to that?! We are free, free of others' judgment.

We are free from the need to accumulate things and honors and position. Those are not for eternity; but we are. Let me tell you about Jim. Jim cried at his daughter's wedding. As he walked her down the aisle, he began to cry, not because he was so happy, but because he realized he had missed the most important thing in his life. He had worked hard -- long nights, weekends -- become a success (if you measure success by a big house, a fancy title, and large bank accounts). But he had not had time for his daughter. And now -- she was gone. He didn't know what was truly important. He was imprisoned by his need to accumulate things.

But we are free to love and be loved. Created by love, for love, to live with the Divine Love for eternity, we know who we are. As Christians we know where we are going, we know what is truly important, what is worth spending a life on. It was summarized by Jesus when he was asked what is most important in the Law, the Torah. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. Love God; love others and be loved by others; love and accept self.

We spend so much energy on things that don't matter: how we look -- what people think of us -- what we have or what others have -- if we will get a promotion -- whose sports team is going to win. We spend so much energy on things that don't matter. I love sports; I'm still a UT fan, all the way. But let's get real. Let's put first things first.

This, of course, is why Lent is a period of self-examination and penance. We need to stop and look at our lives -- remember what we are made of, remember where we are going -- and let go of all those things that don't really matter, all those things that get in the way of loving God, loving others, and being loved by God and by others.

Remember, you are nothing but dust: Precious dust, molded and formed in the womb by a loving God, precious, precious and beloved are you.

Remember, you are nothing but dust, and to dust shall you return: Unique and precious, you are created for eternity.

Remember, you are nothing but dust: And that makes you free -- free from human ambition -- free from prideful denial -- free from fear -- free; free at last!

Remember, Dust you are, and as dust you are loved and free.
Amen. Amen.

Copyright 2001 The Very Rev. Ward B. Ewing

. (Return to Top)

 
     
 
 
Search
Copyright ©1999-2006 explorefaith.org