(Reflections from Genesis 1-2, Job 41, Psalm 8 and 22, and John 8)
“The season of Lent, during which winter and spring struggle with each other for dominance, helps us in a special way to cry out for God’s mercy.”
-Henri Nouwen, Show Me the Way
He bent low, picked up a handful of dust
Blew life and breath,
Formed bone and flesh,
And He called it “very good.”
“What is humankind, that You are mindful of them?
Human beings, that You care for them?
You have made them a little lower than the angels
And crowned them with glory and honor.”
From dust to clay.
Once again, He bent low
And wrote in dust with finger,
Speechless, irritating the holy men
Who pointed theirs.
In the midst of babbling chaos,
He straightened up and spoke
To the high and holy ones
Who clenched the killing stones in their hands.
“The choice is yours…
Cast the first stone
You, who count yourselves
Among the sinless.”
Slowly but surely, starting with the eldest,
(Who had seen the most of real life)
They dropped their stones,
Knowing the sharp edges told the stories
Of their own broken lives.
Thud, thud, thud,
They walked away,
Unable to complete the harsh task,
Waiting for the next opportunity to trap and kill.
And there, in the middle of the courtyard
Stood cross-formed Love and Compassion,
Gazing into this woman’s soul,
Offering a fresh start. No condemnation.
So today we commemorate with ashes
The dusty sign of forgiveness,
The cross of love poured out
To shape the clay of our fragile lives.
When our potsherds, like Job’s,
Scrape at the sores while we sit in the ashes,
When we wonder why our cries of anguish
And sound waves of our prayers seem to
Bounce off our bedroom walls…
When our hearts feel like melting wax
Or our dry tongues stick to the roofs of our mouths,
Our dry clay hearts blown apart
As we lie in our dust of despair…
Remind us, Lord, that
You long to enter these places,
Revealing Your face and providing Your presence.
Listening to our cries.
With You, every day is a fresh start.
So today we go down to dust
On our hands and knees,
And You pick up our faces and say,
“Neither do I condemn you.
Leave your life of sin.”
Photo by Ahna Ziegler on Unsplash
