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I am sitting in my darkened office with a dusting of ashes on my forehead.  My eyes are red from crying as I read of the 17 families who’s loved one did not come home from school today.  Mr. Hixon.  Meadow Pollack. Joaquin Oliver. Coach Fies. Missing or rumored to be among the victims.

Our lives are fleeting.  Our world is broken and violent. And I sit in my office with ashes on my head.  A sign  of mourning in the ancient world, sack cloth and ashes.  A sign of death found in the shape of the cross. And I claim that I am dying.  You are dying.  We are all dying and we are all in this world that is as impermanent and flimsy as dust and ashes.

And yet even as we know this, even as we know there is heart break and terror in our communities and neighborhoods; Even as we recognize our own limited existence we claim hope in the God who embraced death.  The God who is with us in shame, humiliation, pain, and terror.

We do this Lent thing in the church to remind us that God became flesh and blood and came to us, not as a ruler of wealth and power, but as a carpenter who suffered and struggled and died.  God is in it all, with us dusty people in this beautiful and terrible life.

And we are called to then know our own mortality and know the power of the days we have.  Into those days we are called to bring light, to remind people God loves them and is with them.  We who are dying are called to bring life.  And we do that by asking for change.  We do that by pointing out just how much money the NRA has given to the senators who are calling for prayers for the victims.  We do that by volunteering in the schools so those kids who are on the margins knows somebody cares.  We do that by supporting victims.  We do that by bringing God’s vision of a world of peace a little bit closer.

May this lent be a season for all of us to confess our sins of callousness and fear so that we may embrace our dying and in doing so fight for life for all.

-Eilidh

Making our ashes.