An Invitation to Holy Dust

As we enter Lent, we step into a holy season of return. In the Episcopal tradition, Ash Wednesday reminds us that we are dust, and to dust we shall return—not as a sentence of despair, but as an invitation to humility, truth, and deeper love.

Dust is holy. In Book of Genesis, humanity is formed from the dust of the earth and animated by the breath of God. We are earth and spirit woven together. To remember that we are dust is to remember our relationship with the soil, with all living things, with one another. It is to let go of illusions of self-sufficiency and rediscover our dependence on grace.

Dust also levels us. Ash crosses erase the hierarchies we construct—status, wealth, power. In dust, we stand equal. There is something profoundly interfaith in that humility. Our Jewish siblings know the sacred work of teshuvah—turning—most especially in seasons that call the community back to justice and mercy. Our Muslim neighbors embody disciplined devotion in Ramadan, where fasting sharpens compassion and solidarity with those in need. Across traditions, we see shared wisdom: that we are fragile, accountable, and held by a mercy greater than ourselves.

To accept that we are dust is not to diminish our dignity; it is to ground it. Dust is not trash—it is the very material God chooses to build love into life.

To accept that we are dust is not to diminish our dignity; it is to ground it. Dust is not trash—it is the very material God chooses to build love into life. Lent invites us to return to that ground. Fasting teaches solidarity. Prayer softens the heart. Almsgiving widens our circle of concern. These practices are not about spiritual heroics; they are about becoming more human—more awake to God’s breath moving through this fragile clay.

At the start of this season, perhaps the question is simple: Where is God inviting me to return to the ground of my being? And how might my turning—my humble remembering that I am dust—become a blessing for the whole human family?

May this Lent be a gentle, courageous returning to the dust from which we were formed and the Spirit who never stops breathing life and love into us.