Homily, The Work of Remembering
Ash Wednesday, Year C, 2022
Good Shepherd Episcopal Church
Tequesta, FL
The Rev. Derek M Larson, TSSF
Today’s Lectionary Readings:
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Today is Ash Wednesday and in just few moments we will hear these words as our foreheads are marked with a bit of ash in the shape of a cross.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
It’s a phrase meant to remind us of our morality. Of our weakness. Of our sinfulness. Because so often, we live as if we are invincible, but maybe not this year.
Perhaps this year we are already keenly aware of our mortality and weakness. Perhaps we need no reminder at all.
Perhaps the events of the world have already done that work for us. For two years we’ve lived in constant limbo with the threat of sickness hanging over our heads. We need no reminder of weakness and mortality. We turn on our televisions and see men at war again in our world. We need no reminder of weakness and mortality. We carry the weight of our friends and family who have suffered from cancer, Alzheimers, car accidents, brain aneurisms, we need no reminder of weakness and mortality.
And yet we hear the words again, Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
It makes you wonder if God is the one that needs to be reminded. Does God remember that we suffer? Does God remember our weakness and mortality? Does God remember that we are but dust?
This morning I’d like to take a look at our Psalm appointed for today. Psalm 103, which we read a few moments ago. Look at verse 14 of Psalm 103, printed in your bulletin. What does it say? “For he himself knows whereof we are made; he remembers that we are but dust.” He remembers that we are but dust. God remembers.
Yes, God remembers. God was the one who formed us from dust. God was the one who breathed life into our nostrils. God was the one who took on our flesh and experienced weakness and mortality first hand. God remembers. And Psalm 103 is a testimony to that.
I love this Psalm. I love that we hear it every year on Ash Wednesday.
Because often we think of Lent as a time to be hard on ourselves. A time to put ourselves down. A time to be sad and hopeless. Often in Lent we think of ourselves as nothing more than our weakness and mortality.
But that is not the image painted in this Psalm. No, Psalm 103 paints a picture of a God who wants to relieve us of our suffering, redeem us of our sin, resurrect us from our sleep, reconcile us in our separation. Psalm 103 paints a picture of a God who pays no attention to the things we have done wrong and pays complete attention to our pain.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
But perhaps you already remember. How does this Psalm speak to those of us who already remember?
Perhaps you remember yours sins so well that you are weighed down by guilt and shame. Hear the words of Psalm 103, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us.”
Perhaps you already remember. Perhaps you remember so well the sicknesses you and your friends and family have endured. Hear the words of Psalm 103, “He…heals all your infirmities.
Perhaps you already remember. Perhaps you remember so well your mortality that it gives you anxiety. Hear the words of Psalm 103, “He redeems your life from the grave.”
Perhaps you already remember. Perhaps you so keenly remember the feelings of being weak and vulnerable as a child. Hear the words of Psalm 103, “As a father cares for his children, so does the Lord care for those who fear him.”
The work of Ash Wednesday is remembering. Remembering our weakness is the easy part. The real work is trusting that God remembers us.
Yes, today we remember our weaknesses, but not so that God can rub it in our faces, but so that God can help us carry our weaknesses because God remembers us.
So today remember. Remember that you are dust and remember that God walks with you. Amen.