Ash Wednesday – today – is the first day of Lent, the day we remember our mortality. The church tradition on Ash Wednesday was to mark the foreheads of the faithful with a cross made with a mixture of ash and oil. As the priest imposed this cross he would intone “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.” (Genesis 3:19) This ceremony began the Lenten journey of repentance and self denial leading up to Easter.

“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes”…it may seem morbid to dwell on death but it’s a subject we too often try to ignore. It’s important to remember that we are mortal, that one day, sooner or later, all of us will die. Young people may feel that they’re invulnerable and invincible but their lives are so easily snuffed out by a cancer or a car. We put our trust in doctors, hospitals and insurance policies but this security is an illusion. At any moment our tiny spark of life could be snuffed out as easily as we squash an ant. We’re like the rich farmer in Jesus’ story, who thought he was set for life, storing up all his surplus wealth in bigger barns only to die suddenly in the night. His prosperity couldn’t save him and he certainly couldn’t take it with him.

Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return.

I’m not scared of dying but there are certainly ways of dying that are very frightening indeed. A slow, painful decline caused by an incurable disease would be horrible but maybe even worse, an agonizing death on some battlefield or in the jail cell of a torturer -not very likely for those of us lucky enough to live in Aotearoa/NZ but horrifically real for hundreds of thousands round the world. Like the children in Gaza, scared to go to school, because they didn’t want to die away from their families.

Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return.

We had a powerful reminder of our mortality recently with the bush fires in Victoria. Because these people were our Aussie neighbours, people so like us, seeing them grieving over their burnt out homes and their lost loved ones, was tremendously moving. When tragedy strikes further from home, when the people affected are a different colour and culture, it’s much easier to ignore their suffering. Sometimes the very size of a disaster daunts us. We can’t relate to the statistics, hundreds of thousands dying every day from preventable causes, it’s just too big to take on board.

Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return.

Imagine that you were going to die tonight, how would you live today? Imagine that at midnight you were going to meet with Judge Jesus how would that affect your behaviour? Would you go on a last shopping spree? Would you drink yourself into oblivion? Would you try to see as many of your friends and family as possibly, tell them how much you loved them, try to resolve any hurts between you? Would you desperately try to rack up some good deeds, run round giving away all your stuff to the poor, in an attempt to tip the scales in your favour?

In the Orthodox Church calendar, the Sunday before Ash Wednesday is known as Last Judgement Sunday which seems appropriate… death and judgement side by side. Most Christians believe that at some time in the future we’re going to have to face up to our Lord and account for our lives. This would be terrifying if we didn’t also believe that Jesus is loving and merciful as well as just. We rely on the forgiveness and grace of Jesus to cover all the failure in our lives, the bad we’ve done and the good we haven’t. So the Judge will not condemn us but it’s still going to be a thoroughly embarrassing moment as we look over our lives and see how we wasted so much of our gifts, our time and our money.

Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return.

The most important lesson to learn from Ash Wednesday is that we don’t have limitless time on this earth. All of us face death and judgement and we should live accordingly – not in a state of fear – but rather valuing each day, making the most of our opportunities, throwing ourselves generously, whole heartedly into living worthwhile lives.

And what counts as worthwhile? What can we do to store up some treasure in heaven rather than being caught up in the rampant consumerism our society presents as success?

Serving those in need would be high up the list. Jesus said very clearly that whatever you can do for the hungry, the homeless, the poor, the sick and the imprisoned, you’re doing for him. These actions, however small and insignificant, have eternal worth and as a bonus an outward looking, giving sort of life is far more whole and healthy than one centered on self. Lives centered on self satisfaction are the least satisfying in the long run. Lives centered on service are vastly more rewarding.

So can I suggest that this Lent, instead of giving up coffee, chocolate, shopping, computer games or whatever your addiction happens to be; you begin each day by remembering that you are mortal, by taking to heart the truth that this could be your last day and filling it with as many worthwhile activities – including rest – as possible. Your life will be richer and will have a positive influence on those close to you and the lives of needy people overseas.

If living like your last day became a habit, when it finally is your last day and you meet your maker face to face, there will be a lot more to celebrate and less to regret.

To follow our Lent 2009 journal click here. We will have a new thought available every morning of Lent.

Related posts:

1. Preparing Our Hearts for Easter: Day 1 – Ash Wednesday