Saturday, March 22, 2014

Finding Wholeness in Ashes

Ash Wednesday; Yr. A, March 5, 2014
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; Psalm 103; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church & The Church of St. Luke & St. Simon Cyrene

         I play the hammered dulcimer.  It’s a trapezoidal instrument with a rather large flat surface covered with strings.  It sits out in my living room so that when I walk by it, I can be tempted to sit and play.  When I first got the instrument, I loved the wood finish; the grain and the color are just beautiful.  But it’s been about two years now.  The instrument is out all the time and it’s gotten a little dusty.  Actually, it’s covered in dust.  At first, it bothered me because the beautiful finish was getting hidden.  I tried to clean off the dust several times, but it was difficult.  The strings got in the way.  Nancy, got me a small brush to sweep away the dust when it collected, but it didn’t work so well.  I even asked at my Dulcimer class what people did about the dust.  My instructor said, it’s kind of interesting that the people who care most about the dust on a dulcimer are our spouses.  The people who play just want to play.  They don’t notice the dust.  That seemed odd to me, but over time, I found that to be the case.  I rarely notice the dust anymore.  I love the way my instrument sounds.  I love the way I feel when I play it.  I love seeing it out in the room, and not hidden in a case where it might actually have a chance of remaining dust free.  Dust has become for me, a sign of life lived well.

            Today is a day when we remember the value of life lived well.  We are dust, and to dust we shall return.  Dust doesn’t have a very good reputation.  It’s not like soil.  Every gardener knows that soil is rich and fertile.  It’s what you want in your garden.  We fight for it, and build it up and work with it.  But dust, well … that’s a different story.  Dust we want to sweep up, or suck up, or swiff away.  Who wants to keep dust around?  Dust is a throw away thing, worthless and a bother.  It’s like the bad penny that keeps showing up.  Yet … we are dust.  Is that what God thinks of us?  I don’t think so.
            Maybe it’s time we started looking at dust and ourselves in a different way.  Dust is actually a soup with many ingredients … many of them living or once living … insect parts, animal hair, skin cells, pollen, animal dander, chemicals or pesticides that come in on our shoes, dirt, face powder, plaster or paint chips, all the little pieces of our lives thrown together in a mat that accumulates in our living space.  We’re also formed by all that is around us.  We become who we are because of the experiences and people we meet and know, something like a dust ball in formation.  But we are also dust with a difference.  We have a brain, a heart, a Spirit and a will.  We have a purpose … to reflect the glory of God in our being and living.
            The dust on my dulcimer is composed of whatever particles happen to fly by and land there.  But I can make choices about who I will hang out with, about where I will go, about what kind of games I will play, about what programs I will watch or books I will read, about what commitments I make.  I have power over some of the things that will shape and form who I am and who I will become.  You and I are dust with a will.  We are also dust with a Spirit, a Spirit that calls us into loving communion.  We have some control over how we come to be and live.  Life doesn’t just happen to us; we can also make it happen.
            Lent is a season when we can be intentional about how we are being formed.  Six weeks is enough time for us to thoughtfully develop new habits geared toward wholeness.  It does not have to be a time of grunting and groaning toward holiness.  It can be a time of sharing and joy and illumination as we talk with one another about how we want to be living. 
            Do we really want to be driving the kids all over every day so they can do everything?  Is that healthy?  Is it really healthy to work as much as we do?  Does our work bring us joy?  Do the things we watch and read make us into more compassionate and caring human beings?  Do they help us get in touch with ourselves and what matters to us and our community?  Or are they mindless entertainment, because that’s the only thing we have energy for at the end of the day?  Do our kids have hobbies?  Are they learning the kind of skills they can use for fun throughout their lives?  Are we still learning?  Do we have space in our lives for spontaneity, or are our lives so scheduled that we can barely cope with any kind of interruption? 
            Remember … we are dust, dust formed and shaped with a purpose … to reflect God’s glory in our being and our living.   We are dust, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with being so.  It is our human condition.   The only bush that burns eternally without being consumed is God.   I invite you into a holy Lent, into a time of self-reflection that might bring you, and I, into a deeper, more joyful wholeness.  Let’s make this time one for recharging our batteries, emotionally, vocationally, and spiritually.  A time for reflecting on how we might like our lives to be different?  Let’s slow down.  Let the dust settle a little, and allow ourselves to be formed by God’s influence so that we can be continually re-created as loving, merciful, faithful dust. 

Amen.

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