We’ll Burn the Palms for Next Year’s Ash
Today is Palm Sunday. I recall this because I saw,
just now, an image with two pieces of wood, tied and
at an angle. I suppose many are celebrating—feasting,
in fact, since it is the end of Lent—the way I am but
with honest hearts.
Lent is done, although the days of ash continue. Nothing
new for planet Earth and the people of it. What do we
know of ash but that it’s final in remembrance?
We might take the stuff and try to rework it, but what it means
remains the same. We are of ash. We’ve tasted it.
We try to contain it, though it’s mischievous in
blowing around. Where does that wind come from?
“Dust in the wind.” “Turn, turn, turn.” Every generation asks
the question, needs an answer, doesn’t get one.
There is ash. It’s everywhere. We think it’s dust, though we’ll never
clear it out. We can’t. As I say with all the singers,
it is us. We are ash.
C L Couch
Photo by Niklas Tidbury on Unsplash
This was a picture I took just for fun. One of those “that would look cool”-moments. I only realised the contrast between the new, fresh, ready-to-burn wood and the spent ashes of a campfire, like the wood was ready to meet its maker. Kinda sad actually.
This begins a week-long devotional, “Holey Week.” The title is intentionally spelled.
April 5, 2020 at 4:32 pm
Dust, ashes, burning, blood and dying. The images in Christian ritual are pretty gruesome. We are dust, we do return to dust, but we are also water and life, and we go out fighting. Maybe we ought to celebrate life a but more, babies, mothers, happiness. The man on the cross is so depressing, and so unnecessary.
April 7, 2020 at 2:02 am
You’re right, Christian imagery can be brutal. In recent years, Celtic art and life have been added in for which I’m grateful.
April 7, 2020 at 9:29 am
I like the Celtic world view, no interventionist gods, a lot of superstition generally about natural events and birds/animals, but the gods are semi-historical figures who are considered to live where we’re all headed, just getting on with their lives.
April 5, 2020 at 6:57 pm
Christopher.its extremely fitting this poem. A bit dark, but so greatly was the crucifixion for Jesus/his disciples (until Easter morning of course). Your use of ashes and dust,and referral to music/poems is very effective too. “From Dust we are made; to dust we will return.”
It’s a truth, but it’s difficult to reconcile for us in corporal form,when we’re animated and solid, alive and feeling, but not one of us escapes death.
“There is ash. It’s everywhere. We think it’s dust, though we’ll never / clear it out. We can’t. As I say with all the singers,”
Powerful ending, but perhaps in the singing of lent hymns and other, though we can’t escape to be ash/dust nor clean it out of our homes, we do have hope in Jesus.
We are not ash in the end, we have souls in Heaven and in our death, new bodies perfect, never to be dust/ash again.
Enjoyed this.great job.
April 7, 2020 at 2:08 am
Thanks, Amanda, for your thoughtful and detailed response. You’re right, of course; this work is dark. I think of Holy Week as a dark time, especially when I consider the crowd that celebrated Christ on his entry into the city was then willing to see (and hear and smell and taste and touch) him executed later on. But there was the loving meal on Maundy Thursday and the devotion of the women who followed Jesus. And, you’re right again, life does not end in ash anymore than Christ’s life ended with crucifixion. So there is much to enjoy now and even more to look forward to!
I hope you’re doing well this week.
April 10, 2020 at 2:45 am
High Christopher Happy almost Easter 🙂 Yes, it’s a dark week. But so much joy at the end. I guess we must remember too that those who celebrated over his death did so in a false, pretentious way. It was naive celebrations b/c death would defeat even these kinds of sins. Take care of yourself Christopher and praying 🙏 as always that you feel well 🙂