Newsletter 

Here is Pastor Jon's March letter  - - - - - - 

“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust

you are and to dust you will return.”  Genesis 3:19

         This past week was Ash Wednesday, the day where thousands of worshippers receive the sign of the cross on their foreheads in the shape of a cross.  Along with the ashes, they receive the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” or something similar. A stark reminder that we are created out of the dust of the land, but it is with God’s breath that was blown into us that we come alive.

         We are God’s created, and not our own.  But what also doesn’t escape my thoughts is that over the last 5 years, we have had to cancel Ash Wednesday services due to weather.  Something else that we have no control over.  I know that Punxsutawney Phil believes he does, but being right only 30% of the time would say otherwise.  Yet, we still hold onto hope into things that we have no control over as if we really did.

         Which brings me back to the ashes.  When I have had the chance to put ashes on a forehead, and have them placed on mine, I get to thinking of how this time may be the last time that those ashes are put on the forehead of someone who is looking me in the eyes.  As I have been reminded by Bishop Dee Pederson and during every internment of a funeral, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” is repeated over the grave of a departed soul. 

         The Lenten season is a time to remember those words, take them to heart, and think of God’s promises to each and every one of us.  Because, after all, nobody really knows when the time will come that our dusty hearts will beat their last time.  Those words which many of us often hear (and put aside almost as soon as we hear them), mean so much; often at the most inconvenient of times.

         I am reminded of my father, whom I have had to help my family put into the ground.  After taking numerous falls on his head, we had to make the decision to pull the artificial life support and see what comes of it.  He did not make it more than a day.  But in that reality of his fragility, I was reminded by the chaplain and later the pastor that his body was just dust; dirt and mud that God breathed life into.  My father’s soul was in heaven with Jesus, and all the pain and suffering was gone.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  My father was free.

         Yet today, I still experience the pain of losing one that I loved.  It flooded my emotions on this dreary, windy cold day where the kids got out of school and we canceled a worship service.  Though I had a wife and three children in the house, I felt alone with my grief.  I didn’t want to share my inner thoughts with others in fear that they wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t know what to do.  I didn’t expect anything from them, but that didn’t stop me from believing it.

         And I often think that is where much of the world stands in times of grief. 

We are afraid to voice our concerns.  We are afraid to be vulnerable.  We are scared to be…….  human.

But here is the thing that Jesus teaches: we are in this together.  We are to serve one another, and we are to be served.  Together, we are God’s church on earth.  Together, we are one family; weird uncles, crazy aunts, aggressive siblings, dementia grandparents, and cute grandkids.  We are a family together on earth, with God as our father.

And just like our families in the home, we may not think the same things, agree on the same arguments, or even like each other all the time, but we are in this together.  We do not have the same gifts and we don’t use them the same ways, but we are united in living the way of Jesus and serving in the way of Christ.  We are called by God, claimed by Christ, and sent out into the world with the Spirit in us.

Not only does this mean blood family, but also those who we are with me in my life.

Antonia and Dunja (our exchange students from Germany and Serbia respectfully) are not my biological children, but they are family.  The folks at the church are not necessarily related to me, but they are in my family.  The SW MN Communities of Wabasso, Lucan, Milroy, Lamberton, Wanda, Seaforth, etc. are not my direct lineage, but are my family. 

This also means that if someone in my church, my community, or community down the road is struggling, it is my calling to love that neighbor in whatever way I can. It means paying attention, recognizing that my neighbor’s needs are as real as mine. It means that we bear one another’s burdens and love one another, even our “enemies”. And this year, without a doubt, we remember that we are dust and to dust we shall return. 

Even as Lent begins with the familiar words of dust, it continues with God’s promises of mercy and steadfast love for one another.  And in the end, our love for God’s family will lead us to death on the cross.  But that is not the end.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust -and then into the glorious company of the saints in light at the throne of God. 

“May the God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, by the blood of the eternal covenant, make us complete in everything good so that we may do God’s will, working in us that which is well-pleasing in God’s sight through Jesus Christ.”  (ELW Funeral Committal)

-          Pastor Jon Wendt