Being reminded of our fragility--What do we do with too much?

Zoom worship for our little church, Sunday March 22

Just weeks ago on Ash Wednesday we were signed with ashes and bidden to remember these words: Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

When we look back on this time from future, I’m sure one of the things we’ll remember is that this global pandemic happened during Lent/Easter, and embraced Passover and Ramadan, too. Every day brings reminders of how much we are dust. The wild swings of not only markets and pronouncements from government leaders, but also our emotions--moments of deep grief and moments of elation back to back, all while still trying to navigate the regular ebbs and flows of daily life. For many people regular life was difficult enough.

It all feels like too much.

And it is too much.

There’s little we can do against the forces of nature or political and cultural change. We can’t control the weather or the stock market. Our health is fragile and can be taken from us suddenly.

Regardless of what we might tell ourselves, we are always living in uncertain times. Some moments in history allow us to see that more clearly than others, but we are and always have been dust returning to dust.

The good news, of course, is that that we are still God’s people and so have a basis for hope that is beyond the wild swings that remind us of our fragility. Christians practice hope, not the fleeting kind of hope that comes from the news media or a soaring stock market or a scientific breakthrough, but the lasting hope that is only found in the cross of Jesus Christ. For, in the end, it is only here that we can find solidarity and solace in the midst of uncertainty.

During this season of Lent, as we are still on our journey toward the cross, let’s pray together that we are reminded both that we are dust and that our hope relies in and with Jesus and the cross.

Wash your hands and open your hearts.