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Devotional | Skip McKinstry | Feb 19, 2023
The LORD is like a father to his children,tender and compassionate to those who fear him.For he knows how weak we are;he remembers we are only dust.– Psalm 103:13,14, NLTAnd when you fast, don’t make it obvious, as the hypocrites do, for they try to look miserable and disheveled so people will admire them for their fasting. I tell you the truth, that is the only reward they will ever get. – Matthew 6:16, NLT
The LORD is like a father to his children,
tender and compassionate to those who fear him.
For he knows how weak we are;
he remembers we are only dust.
– Psalm 103:13,14, NLT
And when you fast, don’t make it obvious, as the hypocrites do, for they try to look miserable and disheveled so people will admire them for their fasting. I tell you the truth, that is the only reward they will ever get. – Matthew 6:16, NLT
Too often we think of spirituality as something ethereal, disembodied, otherworldly. Lent disabuses us of that notion. In Lent we are confronted—reminded is too soft a word—with the most fundamental, brute fact of our existence. The words spoken over each of us at the Imposition of Ashes on Ash Wednesday are, “… you came from dust and to dust you will return.” As the ashes are applied to our foreheads, we are touched by the reality that—apart from the life-giving breath of God—we are dust. Dust is dead. It holds no power in and of itself.
Lent is traditionally a period of the year when we are called to humbly recognize our own powerlessness—our inability to make ourselves better, our inability to save ourselves. If you have thought in the past that the disciplines of Lent set us up to fail, you may be correct.
You might manage—with clenched teeth and white knuckles—to get through the next 40 days without eating chocolate, or without checking your social media every five minutes. You might even manage to fast for a full 24 hours each week. But at the very beginning, you are told that you are dust. That seems to be very weak encouragement. Seriously, what chance does dust have against Instagram? A 24-hour fast may only make you hangry. And give up chocolate? Most of us would rather die.
But that is the point, isn’t it? Those things that we give up or acts of service that we add to our daily routine are little deaths—deaths to self. We set our will and our desires aside for a season to participate in the Paschal Mystery. We may never fully understand this mystery of how Christ’s suffering, crucifixion, death, and resurrection are the means of God’s grace leading to our salvation. It is far beyond our understanding that the only innocent person who ever lived would willingly give up his life to redeem those who are only dust, and guilty dust at that.
It isn’t necessary to understand to participate. But participation can lead us toward understanding as we contemplate the inconceivable truth that the Creator, Sustainer and Lord of the universe has joined us in our powerlessness—our fellowship of dust.
If we think that phrase sounds a bit too romantic, like Gandalf and his merry band of Hobbits, we can read Psalm 22, often called the “Psalm of the Cross.” Verse 15 reads, “My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You lay me in the dust of death.” Here we learn what he always knew—that joining our fellowship of dust would inexorably lead to his death on the Cross.
In the small deaths of our Lenten practices, we get just a tiny glimpse of what Paul called, “the fellowship of his sufferings” (Philippians 3:10). We can endure those small inconveniences, as we can endure the larger struggles and tragedies of our lives, because we remember that he endured the Cross, “for the joy set before him” (Hebrews 12:2). May that joy, in which we will also participate, be ever-present in our hearts and keep us from practicing our fasts like the hypocrites in Matthew 6.
PRAYER
Father, thank you for this season of Lent. In our weakness, we are reminded that we are mere dust. We humbly thank you that for our sake and for your own joy—knowing what it would cost—Christ still chose to become one of us. Forgive us for our foolish masks and unnecessary pretenses, and by your infinite grace, may we surrender to your desire to transform us, restoring your beautiful image within us.
Skip McKinstry
Crossings Spiritual Formation Team
Skip McKinstry is an artist, graphic designer, long-time CareSeries facilitator, and part of Crossings' nascent spiritual formation team.
Artwork: “Imago - The Birth of Adam” by Skip McKinstry, the artist who created the collection of art featured in our 2023 Lent devotions.
As you practice the various fasts of Lent, value the temptation that you face. Think of it as preparation for receiving your life from God, a gift that is yours, not because you pass a test, but because he did.Try one of these suggestions this week:
For Bible studies, sermon messages, podcasts, worship music, and more to help you cultivate your faith, check out resources.crossings.church.
Explore other devotions like this one any time at crossings.church/devotions.