Ash Wednesday Reflection

This is the outline of the sermon I shared today, Ash Wednesday. As one might expect, this outline does not contain exactly the words that were spoken, but it's pretty close.

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So, we’ve come to this time of the church year once again
when we’re invited to remember our mortality

Some of you may remember, or know,
that I enjoy Instagram
that photo-sharing social medium
but I use Instagram not so much as a social media platform
not so much to connect with friends
instead, I use it to see beauty
I follow people who post photo journalism
remarkable poetry
and especially, people who post beautiful photos of things outside

so, I follow people who are much better skiers, mountaineers, cyclists, and poets
than I am or ever will be

One of these people I follow, Amanda Batty,
posted something yesterday
that gets to the heart of the message of Ash Wednesday
this idea that you are dust, and you shall return to dust

the deal is, Amanda Batty is a mountain bike racer
and a little over seven months ago, she crashed really hard
and as I understand it, had to have her foot reconstructed
she’s only just in the past week or so gotten back on a bike

she wrote the following (which I’ve edited for content and for language)


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I hate feeling vulnerable. I always have. I hate feeling out of control and I hate feeling slow.
I hate feeling broken and less than 100% capable and strong, and it makes me mad
because I still have this absurd mental and emotional attachment to being
superhuman,
to being unbreakable ... To being immortal
[It’s hard to] realize that I’m not exceptional or special or different —
just like everyone else, I too break and scar and will eventually die
[someone told her] “You’re quick to be defensive
because you think people see what you aren’t anymore.”
***


here’s the thing
Amanda Batty realized the thing that's true about each one of us
we live an embodied life
life in a body that's beautiful, and resilient, and also fragile

we are created from the dust of the earth
molded and shaped by our creator
who looks at us and proclaims us good

but still, as many of you know, sometimes we break
and need to take time to heal
sometimes it seems like different parts wear out
(many of you know, it’s happening to me … I’m learning how to need to wear glasses)
sometimes we experience betrayal through our bodies
and we realize that what we had once been able to do
we likely won’t ever again

and make no mistake
these betrayals that we experience in our bodies
they’re different from physical death only in degree
the few dozen sprained ankles I endured
while not crippling, still I experienced a little death
because I thought I was kept from fullness of life
the learning how to remember to bring glasses along
while not catastrophic, still I experience a little death
because I can’t quite see like I once did

but it’s not just our physicality
also, we experience death in the emotional and psychological and spiritual aspects of our life
consider when someone beloved to you is sick or injured
that’s a little death you experience, even as your beloved does as well

whether it’s a stroke or a scratch
a heartbreak or a bad haircut
death, in varying degrees, surrounds us

and then, after all the little deaths
eventually, someday, we’ll just die
our bodies will quit working
it’s humbling
realizing that though we are created good by our God
still we’re not invincible, we’re not immortal
we will die
every single one of us
you are dust, and to dust you shall return

yet, though we shall indeed die,
the promise Christ embodies for us
is the promise that death does not have the final word
that Christ entered into our life and our death,
and has defeated any power death has over us

Oh, death, where is your sting?
Oh, grave, where is your victory? Paul writes

so we begin this season of Lent
acknowledging our mortality
anticipating the promise that we’ll celebrate as the church at Easter
that on the other side of death, God promises us new life

In the name of Christ our Savior. Amen.