Dirt
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth,
the earth was a formless void and
darkness covered the face of the deep,
while the breath of God swept over
the face of the waters.
Then God said, ‘Let there be light’;
and there was light.
And later on, the Lord God said, “Let there be dirt”; and
there was dirt.
And then the Lord God sculpted a
person from the dirt
—scripture says “dust” but we all
know
that’s a pretty way of saying mud—
and the Lord God breathed into the
dirt-creature’s nostrils
the breath of life;
and the mud became human.
Every one of us is dirty—that is, made of salt and carbon and
bits of things
We are not so
different in our essential makeup from a potato or an earthworm
The dust in our houses is, in fact,
dirt.
skin and dirt from our shoes and bits
of food and hair.
Sure, we’re made of star-stuff like
the astrophysicists say
and that’s beautiful but you know
what star-stuff is?
Dirt only dressed up in it’s
Sunday-best.
And this is not
meant for you to beat your breast
and cry “I am a worm and no man!” as
the Psalmist does
nor is this
about a false sense of humility:
you
know the old joke of the woman who prays to God,
“I’m nothing, I’m nothing!” and
another woman hears
and says “Look who thinks he’s
nothing.”
This essential
dirtiness is about recognizing where we come from
It’s
about knowing that God’s breath in our lungs
is the only thing holding us
together:
not our 401Ks or stock options,
not our nice house in the suburbs,
not our kids who mostly meet our
expectations for goodness,
not the amount of work we do for pay
or not
we
are, in some literal and poetic way, made entirely of dirt and breath
of course, we all know about our essential dirtiness in the
other sense
not just our
sexual appetites but all of our dirtiness
the Episcopal
Ash Wednesday rite includes
an extensive Litany of Penitence and
lists those dirty parts of us
we’d rather keep hidden
our
unfaithfulness, pride, hypocrisy, and impatience
our
self-indulgent appetites and exploitation
our
anger at our own frustration, our envy of those more fortunate
our
intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts and our dishonesty
our
negligence in prayer and worship
and my
favorite, my most favorite one
because
it’s about our failure to recognize
our innate blessedness and giftedness
we
confess our failure to commend the faith that is in us
I don’t really want you to see those parts of me.
I hide behind a sparkling clean wall
of competence
so you won’t see those parts.
Have you got that wall, too?
Every one of us
is made of dust and to dust we shall return.
Every one of us
is made of dirt
and we spend a lot of time
shellacking it so that we won’t return to dirt.
And we spend a lot of time examining
the folks we meet
for chinks in their shellack armor,
looking for their innate dirtiness
—this is called gossip, this is
called self-righteousness,
this is called prying
This dirtiness we try to hide is the very same stuff that
grows our vegetables.
The dirt that
we’re made of is the very same stuff
that supports our feet and houses.
The dirt that
is us is the very same stuff
that children build forts or make
clown makeup with.
The dirt that
we try to sweep out of the living room for the umpteenth time
is a reminder of whose artwork we
are.
God chose that dirt,
God scooped it up and mixed it with
water and made us
and so we’re both the most humble,
dirtiest creatures imaginable
and also the most beloved.
In a bit, we’re going to smear some more dirt on your
foreheads.
We’ll call it dust and we’ll tell you
to remember your mortality,
remember that it’s only God’s breath
holding you together.
“Remember that you are dust and to
dust you shall return.”
Maybe you’re not really ready for that.
And maybe you’re listening to me now
and thinking
“it’s no big deal, just a smudge of
ashes”
or maybe you’re thinking “Lord I
believe, help my unbelief” as did Thomas
no matter where you are right now,
I invite you to begin releasing your
hold on that clean wall
keeping the rest of us out
sit comfortably
in your pew
maybe close
your eyes
and rest your
hands on the tops of your knees, palm up.
Close your eyes and clench your hands
up tight.
Imagine all the pressures and worries
and tensions
you are carrying as you sit here now.
Then
in your own time
gently turn your hands over so that
they are facing down.
Imagine God’s hands underneath yours
and slowly open your hands
so that the things you are carrying
fall into God’s hands.
Allow your
dirt-self to show.
You may wish to repeat this several
times.
Then turn your hands face up,
but this time with the palms open
and ask God’s Spirit,
God’s breath,
to fill you afresh.[1]
Be gentle with yourselves.
Remember that your dirt-self is both a blessing and a
challenge.
Remember that you are dirt, and to dirt you shall return.
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Amen.
[1] Stolen
from the SOS community and then modified.
