Dirty Hands

 “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us of all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9)

So, yesterday was Ash Wednesday. I love Ash Wednesday – it’s the only day when people actually line up so I can tell them they are sinners. Go figure.

We had an Ash Wednesday service at our retirement village. But since not everyone would be able to attend the Ash Wednesday service, I carried my bowl of ashes with me throughout the day, making the ashes available to people who would ask me for them. 

Ashes on demand. Service with a smile.

Seriously, though, it is a sacred moment when I have the privilege of saying to the person standing before me, “You are dust, and to dust you will return.” Those are the traditional words spoken when imposing ashes on the forehead. The ashes, in the form of a cross, are a visible reminder of our mortality and our sinfulness, as well as the price that our Lord paid in order to save us from our mortality and our sinfulness.

At the end of the day, my finger was black with ashes caked in oil. Even after washing my hands, the ashes were still under my fingernails. I had to scrape them out when I got home. Sorry for planting the image in your mind.

Not only that, I realized that throughout the day there were things that I picked up and touched with my dirty hand, leaving an ashen fingerprint stain. I found an ash-print on my computer, on one of my calling cards, on a book I was reading. My ever-present coffee cup was the worst, with ashes smeared all over it. Everything I touched was stained.

It got me to thinking about the pervasive nature of sin. Everything – everyone – is tainted, stained by our sinfulness. Not that everyone is a horrible, no-good, very bad person; rather, it’s just that sin corrupts our being, and it makes us less than who God has created us to be. And no matter how hard we try, no matter how careful we are, we just can’t rid ourselves of our sin. The apostle John noted long ago that “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8) He was right – he is right – there is no use in denying our sinfulness. 

"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves..."

But John did not stop there. He did not stop by reminding us of our sin, because our sin is not the last word he needed to say. And so he continued: “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

Thank God that our sinfulness is not the final word for us. Our God does not leave us to wallow in our stained, broken nature. Indeed, the very heart of the Gospel is that God does for us that which we are unable to do for ourselves – God saves us from our sin. 

The final word is grace. 

Yesterday, as I was applying the ashes to the foreheads of my people, I felt an unease at stopping at the words, “...to dust you will return.” I can only describe it as a nudging of the Holy Spirit, but I felt like I had to add words of hope. (I can already hear the gasps of the liturgical purists who will insist that there is nothing to add to “...to dust you will return.”) And so after I said, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return,” I added, “and by the grace of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, you will be raised again.”

I felt like I had to say that.

Because the final word has to be grace.