It is said that success can test a person’s meddle even more than the strongest adversary. I can affirm the truth of that simple statement. In the year since we last gathered for Ash Wednesday worship, I have gotten married, gained a stepdaughter, went on a honeymoon, had wife and daughter move in, got daughter into school, and had my wife get a job. Surely, much success.

But along with that success came something else, a growing feeling of dread and anxiety, a feeling that would not have appreciated the message of this day, that we are dust, we are mortal, that we are finite. It was a feeling that I had now run my course, that had found success in all my life’s endeavors, and now all that remained was to grow old and die. That there were no more mountains to climb and all that remained was the grave.

It was, of course, not a rational feeling. There was no logic, no reason for it. Obviously, there was and is still much of life remaining. There are many more mountains to climb, many more landmarks to pass on my journey. I was only 35 after all, not even halfway through the course of my life. But the feeling was there nonetheless. And I struggled mightily with it for many months. I questioned everything, even my faith came under the shadow of doubt and it frightened me. What if this is all there is, just a brief breath of life here on this earth, a few short decades then oblivion?

In hindsight, I think I now understand why I was given to endure those feelings, that fear, that irrational anxiety. When we confront the full reality of death, it makes God’s promise of life all the brighter, all the more vivid, all the more necessary. When we stare death in the face, we come to realize our need for God and his mercy.

This is why I believe the church, in its ancient traditions, set aside this day, the first of the season of Lent, to remind all of us of the reality of death. Ash Wednesday is hardly the most pleasant day in the life of the church. Even Good Friday is not quite so grim. But we need grim from time to time. We do need reminded of what it looks like to be without hope, so that we can appreciate what God has done for us. We need to remember that we are dust, so that God’s gift of life eternal becomes more than just a catch phrase we bandy about in church. Only in the face of death’s power does the gift of life become our hope.

And so we gather this day to be reminded that we are dust, that we are mortal, that this earthly life is but temporary. But we would be remiss if we walked away with only that grim reminder, that message of despair. For we must also be reminded of the one who came into this world, sent by God, to make what is dust live again.

The one born in a humble stable in the city of Bethlehem. The one baptized in the River Jordan by John. The one who healed the leper and the lame, the blind, the deaf, and the demon-possessed.

The one who spoke from the mountaintop, told us to “love our neighbors,” told us to call God “Father,” and said that the kingdom of God would soon be at hand.

This is one the Jews called Messiah, anointed one. This is the one the Greeks called Christ. His name is Jesus, Ye’shua, “God will save.” Even his very name gives witness to his purpose for being here. And in addition to all else that he did while here, he went from the safety and comfort of friends and family, hearth and home, to the city of Jerusalem. There, he allowed himself to be betrayed, taken, beaten, mocked, and ultimately hung upon a cross to die.

There he is, dying as we do. But it’s not the end. What seems to be death’s ultimate victory over us is, in fact, death’s final defeat. For on the third day, the stone rolls away. What is dust lives again. And the resurrection of Jesus Christ becomes our hope. For this is not a one time thing, not just a cute little magic trick that Jesus pulls. No, this is our future. What is dust will live again.

The one God sent lived, died, and then rose again to show us the way. The way we would follow. The way of hope beyond death. Here is the promise of mercy, the promise of life. For as Christ lives, we shall live also. If we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. I am the resurrection and the life. The words of Jesus and his followers throughout the generation giving voice to our hope. What is dust will live again. When you stare death in the face, remember that most of all, for it is why Jesus came, why he lived, why he died, and why he rose again. Amen.