Dust in the Wind?

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity

Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind.

Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.

Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.
Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.

When I was in college one of my favorite songs was “Dust in the Wind” by the band Kansas (1978). Part of what attracted me to the song was the haunting music. But the lyrics were equally haunting and unsettling. “Dust in the Wind” reminds me of the Old Testament Book of Ecclesiastes, in which we read”

[H]umans have no advantage over the animals; for all is vanity. All go to one place; all are from the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knows whether the human spirit goes upward and the spirit of animals goes downward to the earth? So I saw that there is nothing better than that all should enjoy their work, for that is their lot; who can bring them to see what will be after them? (Eccles 3:19-22)

As a Christian I don’t share the hollow despair of “Dust in the Wind,” yet I am moved by its profound statement of what life without God would be like. Like Ecclesiastes, “Dust in the Wind” doesn’t proclaim the Christian gospel. But it does encapsulate the bad news that prepares us to hear the good news of what God has done in Christ. Apart from Jesus, “all we are is dust in the wind. Everything is dust in the wind.”

On Ash Wednesday we remember that we are dust. Of course we also realize that we are far more than merely dust. But Ash Wednesday gives us a chance to focus on our “dustiness,” if you will. It’s a day to remember the bad news of who we are apart from Christ so that we can begin to prepare for the great news of Good Friday and Easter.

Though I grew up as an active Christian, I had very little idea of Ash Wednesday until I was well into my thirties. I always had thought of it as some arcane Catholic holiday that, thank God, we Protestants didn’t have to worry about. But in the last fifteen years I have come, not only to understand Ash Wednesday, but also to treasure its meaning.

Like Christmas, Ash Wednesday is a Christian holiday (holy day) that is not required in Scripture. So it’s nothing that all Christians must recognize. However, the day has been set apart by Christians for over a thousand years. It is the first day of Lent, a forty-day season of preparation for Holy Week and Easter. (I’ll say more about Lent in my next post.) For centuries Christians have had ashes placed on their foreheads in the shape of a cross. The ashes remind us of our mortality. As they are being “imposed” on our foreheads we hear the bad news from Ecclesiastes 3: “You’ve come from dust, and to dust you will return.” Yet, because the ashes are imposed in the shape of the cross, they also suggest the good news that is yet to come, that which will deliver us from eternal death.

Throughout my pastoral tenure at Irvine Presbyterian Church I’ve put ashes on hundreds of foreheads. It’s both a strange and a wonderful thing to do. It’s strange to tell people, in so many words, “You’re mortal and you’re going to die.” Yet it’s wonderful to remind people of why they need a Savior, and to invite them to begin getting ready for a deeper experience of God’s grace on Good Friday and Easter – even seven weeks before Holy Week begins.

I remember distinctly times when I have put ashes on the forehead of a dear member of my church who was nearing death. And I remember occasions when I have imposed ashes on the foreheads of newborn infants. The point is that, whether old or young, we are all mortal. We are all caught in death grip of sin. And we all need a Savior.

I’ve had some church members complain about our Ash Wednesday service as “a downer.” To be sure it is not joyous in the way of most worship services. Yet we don’t simply leave ourselves to wallow in our dusty mortality. We take extra time to pray for ourselves and for each other, remembering God’s mercy. And, though we don’t yet focus on the full good news yet to come, we do sing “Great Is They Faithfulness” as we remember God’s grace. Apart from God we are indeed “dust in the wind.” Yet into our dust God has breathed, not only the breath of earthly life, but also the breath of his Spirit. Thus Ash Wednesday’s vivid reminder of our mortality leads us, not to despair, but to hope. It points not to defeat, but to the coming victory of Easter.