“Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return.” These somber words were repeated millions of times on Ash Wednesday in churches throughout the world as Christians made their entry into the 40-day season of fasting and penance known as Lent.
In Decatur, it was a soggy, gray day as I watched folks inching up the aisle toward the altar, young and old, crippled and strong, black and white.
There, two priests dipped their fingers into the blessed ashes mixed with oil and placed big smudgy crosses on each forehead. The word “dust” resounded throughout the sanctuary, reminding me, as my turn came, of the shortness of life.
It's not something we usually want to face. We shun the reminder that our days on earth are numbered, and we will someday be known as “the dearly departed.”
We run from this realization as we twitter and tweet and text our way through the day. Then comes Lent, a time to turn off distractions and turn our faces toward God.
Death is avoided in polite conversation. We say someone “passed” or “went home.” We press down a little harder on the gas pedal when we see a cemetery -- and when someone mentions the “d” word, many will murmur, “Oh, don’t be morbid.”
Still, just as we were once in our mothers’ wombs before entering the world squalling and squirming, we will one day make our exit. For some, there is no warning: a heart attack, a traffic accident -- or, as the terrifying scenes of destruction from Japan remind us, a natural disaster.
One thing is for sure: no one knows the exact date, but it’s a destination we can't avoid.
And how meaningless life would be if we were nothing more than dust! But something inside us can't be squelched by disease or disasters.
It’s the soul, which lives on forever, though many give it little thought. They spend more time in spas than sanctuaries. They do deep knee bends, but never kneel down and pray.
Lent is a time to put our spiritual houses in order. We can get control of bodily desires by saying no to sweets, meats and other foods. We can stop splurging on ourselves and give more money to the poor.
Now is when the rubber hits the road for Christians. The reminder of our mortality tells us not to delay. Does someone want forgiving? Does someone need prayers? Do we need to repent?
Fortunately, the cross on our foreheads reminds us of something very good. We are journeying toward Easter, the celebration of the Lord's resurrection. It’s the day when Scripture assures us that, yes, this life is fleeting, but there is something else -- someone else -- waiting for us in the next.
Lorraine’s latest books are “Death of a Liturgist,” a mystery set in Decatur, and “The Abbess of Andalusia,” a biography of Flannery O’Connor. Her e-mail address is lorrainevmurray@yahoo.com
