Written: 3-15-07

“From ashes we come and to ashes we will return.”

As he sat in the gray plastic chair that was one of thousands clasped together at the bottom- set in rows encircling the square stage that had become the spotlight of so many profound lectures and life changing sermons- the words finally sunk into a heart that for so long had been cut off from any type of religious jargon or messages from people who claimed to know the answers to his messed up, jaded, and hopeless life.  At that moment, he cared not how long it had taken him to listen or the fact that his stubborn atheist views were being shaken and he was finally letting go of his pessimistic explanations of life and the fact that we were all bound to die- if not from disease then the sun engulfing the earth.  All that mattered was that he had heard the words and they had struck his heart and mind in a way he never knew was possible.  No explanation could do justice for the overwhelming emotions that he felt; he just sat and engulfed his soul in the message and pure truth that penetrated his very nature.

His mind wandered without any trace of pattern.  He thought of his family and the pain he had caused them; the women whose hearts he had carelessly broken; the jobs and employers he had half-heartedly discarded… but all these things seemed to be taken as he felt a peace within him and a forgiveness that he had so desperately longed for.  Then it all made sense.  Perhaps there was a reason his friends had invited him here tonight, despite his hesitations to attend yet another preachy service.  His whole life had culminated in this moment, this destiny.  The past seemed to slip out of his consciousness and the future seemed to be a glimmer of light that broke through the darkness of his hurtful memories.

After several moments of silence, his eyes rose from a humbled bow and the light drew his attention to center stage.  The room was dark but the spotlight showcased a wooden cross that had never meant so much to him before just then.  His eyes winced in shame as he was overcome with embarrassment, and he began to embrace the meaning behind such a symbol.  He had heard the story of Easter several times throughout his life, but the cross had never looked this way to him before.  He could hardly fathom that years ago, a perfect man had come to earth to sacrifice his very life for him.  He had died a humiliating death- allowing needles to pierce his brow, a sword to penetrate his side, and thousands of hate-filled people to laugh as blood flowed out his pores.  Yet, he did it all as a gift to those who mocked, those who watched him die, those who spit upon his dying body, those who were just like him.  Today, however, the cross took on a new light as his only way out of the mess he had created. He need not be scared or worry about tomorrow for this ray of light offered him hope and a second chance at the life he had thrown away.

Upon recognition of his desperate need of salvation, he rose.  His heart beat along with the music as he approached the stage.  Everyone and everything seemed to disappear around him as his eyes focused on the cross above.  Each step closer representing the painful years that had brought him to this point.  As he drew nearer, he felt as if his heart was lifting and letting go of all the baggage.  The broken promises, the cheating, the lying, the people, the hurt, the pain- it was all stripped away.  The heaviness and bitterness he had carried for so many years was laid down on the floor of the sanctuary and discarded by a power higher than him.

His steps and heartbeat had become a rhythmic dance of thankfulness.  He knew that he could do nothing to erase his past, and yet he trusted full well that he had found someone who could.  The beating became stronger as he stepped onto the stage, knelt onto the platform, and bowed his head before the man.

“From ashes you came and to ashes you will return.”

This time the words were so much closer.  The message was just above him, as the man whispered into his ear.  At the same moment, he felt the cold earth being smeared across his forehead.  If for only one day, he would wear the implications of a lifetime full of despair and sin.  He would wear only a fraction of the humiliation, as a reminder of the punishment he deserved. The ashes were a sign- a public billboard to the hopelessness he once carried.  And yet, they offered him forgiveness.  Through the death of one man, he could have life.

He rose from the platform and proceeded back to his seat.  His steps were heavier this time as he wore the anguish of his transgressions.  Yet, he knew in his heart that this was only temporary, and the price had already been paid in full.  A dark reminder of death he deserved and the graceful gift of mercy he had been given.

As he left the service that evening, his heart felt like new.  As if the years of wounds and stabs had not only been bandaged but had ceased to exist.  The sun had begun to settle on the horizon and the sky looked like a painting of vibrant pinks, purples, yellows, and oranges.  The clouds opened to display the miraculous picture.  Through the quietness of his spirit and the power of the moment, he heard a gentle whisper… Welcome Home.