Feb 13, 2026 11 min read Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday: Psalm 51, Genesis 3, and Joel 2

Ash Wednesday, as the first day of Lent, provides an opportunity to introduce the Old Testament as the primary site of theological reflection during this season.

Photo by Thays Orrico / Unsplash

Dust and ashes touch our face,
mark our failure and our falling.
Holy Spirit, come,
walk with us tomorrow,
take us as disciples,
washed and wakened by your calling.
Refrain: Take us by the hand and lead us,
lead us through the desert sands,
bring us living water,
Holy Spirit, come.
Brian Wren, Dust and Ashes Touch Our Face, Words © 1989 Hope Publishing Company

Ash Wednesday, as the first day of Lent, provides an opportunity to introduce the Old Testament as the primary site of theological reflection during this season.

It is particularly fortunate and helpful, then, that at least three Old Testament passages already play a significant role in many services on Ash Wednesday. First, Psalm 51 ("Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love") is generally read or sung during the service. It is perhaps the most well-known psalm of lament and an appropriate introduction to the season. Second, the phrase, "you are dust and to dust you shall return," taken from Genesis 3:19, is usually spoken as the minister imposes ashes upon the people. This phrase could be given context and explored in a homily before the imposition of ashes. Both Psalm 51 and Genesis 3 are excellent for holy reflection as we begin Lent, as they are thematically on target and spiritually rich. It is no wonder that over time these passages have become a part of our Ash Wednesday celebrations. Finally, some services begin with a reading from Joel 2 (Blow the trumpet in Zion…for the day of God is coming…return to me with all your heart), which could also be a powerful resource to use in thinking about the importance of this day in the life of the church given its call for repentance and its image of God as one "gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, and renouncing punishment" (The New Jewish Publication Society translation). In addition, Joel 2 is the Old Testament reading for Ash Wednesday in Years A, B, and C.

Psalm 51

The psalm's opening superscription (verses 1-2 in the Hebrew; traditionally included in the English translation's title) instructs us to read this lament in the historical context of David's sexual encounter with Bathsheba in 2 Samuel 11-12. While many of the psalms are attributed to David, this one is particularly contextualized to a (negative) episode in his life as king. But, of course, the psalm immediately transcends these particular historical limits as it soars to literary heights and plunges to theological depths. It is not just about David's indiscretions. How could it receive such attention within both Christian and Jewish traditions if it remains only about an ancient Israelite king? The psalm's first-person voice forces us, as readers, into a confession of sin as well. Reading the psalm responsively as a congregation requires the participants to claim the “I” language within the text as their own.

Psalm 51 foremost provides for a discussion of sin; yet, it has become profoundly unpopular to talk about sin in some Christian communities. These circles feel the need for more positive talk concerning the message of Jesus; sin language is seen as a real "downer" and unnecessary. Indeed, it is true that some particular Christian traditions find themselves stuck on a simplistic message of sin and redemption that turns us all into the worst of possible humans. But do we have to run from one extreme to the other? Psalm 51 seeks a middle way between these two paths, a way that takes the real personal tragedies and pain we face seriously, as well as the misguided and even evil events in national and international news. Keeping up with current events or even just living our own complicated lives suggests that the psalmist may be correct in claiming that our sin is ever before us (English verse 3). What we need is a better explanation of sin, one that does not mire us in the mud of self-criticism such that we are paralyzed without recourse, one that does not make guilt the emotional center of our religious lives. Lent provides an excellent context for redefining sin in our contemporary context. It is striking, by the way, that this psalm's attention to confession of sin is practically without parallel in the remainder of the Psalter. The Psalter is full of prayers related to aspects of our spiritual lives, but sin is not the primary concern. (Is this why so many of the confessions of sin we use in worship contexts are not taken from Scripture?)

The author uses three words for sin and three words for forgiveness.

Blot out my transgressions (rebellions)
wash me thoroughly from my iniquity (errors)
cleanse me from my sin (mistakes).

Three distinct words for sin—transgressions, iniquity, and sin—join together near the beginning of the psalm to paint a picture of the human predicament. The three Hebrew words have some nuanced connotations, just as their English equivalents also bring to mind different images. To rebel, to err, to miss a mark—these are the verbal roots of these Hebrew nouns. None of the words is so profoundly different from each other that we need to split hairs here. However, the lack of specific sins (e.g., murder) does speak once again to the flexibility and adaptability of the psalm for multiple contexts. Maybe the psalmist realizes that my transgressions will not be the same as yours; your iniquity may take a different form than mine; my sin looks unlike yours. Another way to say this: we need at least three ways to talk about sin as we try to contextualize it for our time, because sin comes in numerous shapes and sizes. Sin cannot be safely confined to a single vice, one lone bad behavior. Sin cannot even be contained in a particular listing of malice.

Fortunately, the unwillingness of the psalmist to particularize sin allows us all to find our way into this lament. We are the ones who know our sin, or must know our sin, intimately. It is tempting to define sin, label it, and place it in neat categories to protect ourselves from it. Then, we can think of sin as someone else’s problems or as particularly horrible actions (e.g., murder, theft). We can speak plainly about other people’s sins in some detail, about the woes and troubles of our society because of certain people or problems. This type of engagement with sin is wholly unbiblical. Psalm 51 reminds us that communities of faith do not always need to be reminded of particular sins in order to confess and request God’s forgiveness. We do not need a laundry list of bad deeds proclaimed from the pulpit regularly in order to know our sin. But we do need to pay regular attention to our sin, to see it in its different forms, to see it disguised by a vast array of names and labels.

The lines from Psalm 51 I single out above also contain three distinct words for forgiveness, each with a slight nuance, demonstrating that the psalmist is not seeking personal, cathartic release from these actions, but a divine response. Sin is not in need of our intellectual acknowledgement. God is the actor. God will blot out, thoroughly wash, and cleanse. In our contemporary world, we are often encouraged to adopt a “self-help” ideology that places great emphasis on an individual’s ability to improve her situation through positive thought and other means. There is some merit to such activities. Of course, we grow and develop physically and spiritually throughout our lifespan. We should make an effort to understand ourselves and our life experiences as we become more fully who we are called to be. However, when it comes to sin, we need God’s redemptive work. The psalmist does not imagine that we can deal with our sin; so, his prayer is that God will wash it away. God will create in us a clean heart.

Genesis 3

The phrase, "for dust you are and to dust you shall return," stems from the end of the Garden of Eden story in Genesis 3. The First Sunday in Lent Year A also includes a reading of Gen 3, but only the first seven verses, thereby presenting only a portion of the story of the Garden of Eden.

This phrase is set literarily within a list of punishments given to the serpent (3:14-15), the woman (3:16), and the man (3:17-19), but it should be noted that the concept of 'returning to the dust' is not viewed here as a divine punishment. Humanity doesn't return to dust because of actions in the Garden. The punishment on the man concerns the amount of work he will need to expend in order to bring forth food from the earth. Then, as a concluding thought, 3:19 notes, "by the sweat of your face, you will eat bread until you return to the ground since out of it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you shall return." The phrase explains humanity's situation not as a result of punishment, but of the divine creative process. Humanity comes from the ground: 'adam (the Hebrew word for humanity) comes from 'adamah (the Hebrew word for ground). Genesis 3:19 is simply stating "facts" as they are known previously in an earlier chapter. Genesis 2:7 mentions this dust for the first time: "The Living God shaped the human out of dust from the ground and breathed into the human's face breath of life, and the human became a living self." Taken together, Genesis 2-3 envision humanity's origin and destiny as dusty. This same theme is picked up later in Genesis 18:27, when Abraham refers to himself as "dust and ashes." A one-letter difference separates these words in Hebrew, so a reference to them both creates a nice alliteration in the original text.

The phrase used on Ash Wednesday reminds us of our humble origins, as groundlings from the ground, as humans from the humus, as well as our final fortune. It reminds us of our humanity, our finitude, and ultimately our death. The connection between the phrase, “for dust you are and to dust you shall return,” and death is strong in our contemporary culture. We use these words at funerals, and they are often interpreted on Ash Wednesday in relation to our deaths. But we must remember that the ancient Israelite anthropological vision regards dust, dirt, and earth as connected to our creation. In death, we return to the place where we were formed. The Lenten season, and in particular Ash Wednesday, helps us grapple with not just our destination. The emphasis does not have to be on “and to dust you shall return.” Instead, we can focus on “what does it mean to be dust?” How are we dust formed by the Living God?

Brian Wren's beautiful hymn, which opens this chapter, connects the dust imagery of Genesis 3 to the ashes of this Holy Wednesday. However, the hymn does not connect the imagery back to the God who formed us from dust and then gave us the breath of life. It is to that God that we will return as dust.

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

A Translation of Selections

Verse 1
Blow a shofar in Zion, raise a shout on my holy mountain.
Let all the dwellers of the earth tremble,
for comes the day of the Living God,
it is near.

Verse 12
"Moreover, now," says the Living God
"turn to me with all your hearts;
and with fasting, and weeping, and mourning."

Verse 13
Tear open your hearts and not your clothes.
Turn to the Living God, your God
for gracious and compassionate is God,
patient and very loving and relenting of evil.

Verse 14
Who knows? God may turn and relent,
and leave behind a blessing,
an offering, and a drink offering,
for the Living God, your God.

The passage finds its way into the Ash Wednesday service as a litany in light of three textual elements: the imperative to turn to God (v. 12), the motif of fasting (v. 12 and 15), and Joel's concern in this passage, and throughout the book, with the "the day of the LORD" (v. 1). In what follows I focus on two of these three themes within the text as well as the additional theme of the depiction of God in Joel 2. Any of these themes could be highlighted on Ash Wednesday to begin the journey toward Holy Week. If a minister is looking for a way to begin the Lenten season that emphasizes God's gracious relationship with humanity (rather than humanity's limitations), the third theme is a great place to start.

1) Turn to God!

Verses 12-14 stand out within Joel 2 by offering the possibility of turning back to God. This is certainly a Lenten theme! While the previous verses in this chapter paint a dismal picture of the arrival of the Day of God, these verses contain a divine call to turn back to God, to weep, to rend hearts. The Lenten context may pressure this call to turn (Hebrew: shuv) to become a call to repent of sin. Yet, we must be careful to note that sin is never mentioned in the passage. The Hebrew verb can mean 'to return' or simply 'to turn,' but even when God calls for repentance, the emphasis is not on putting away idols or on addressing social injustice, as in other prophetic texts. In other words, Joel does not describe any present actions that must be turned away from in an act of repentance. Instead, people are called to take physical actions, such as fasting (see below), and spiritual actions, such as examining their hearts.

This passage in an Ash Wednesday service then becomes a springboard for discussing renewing our commitment to God, without resorting to shaming or complex discussions of sin. There is room for turning to God for deliverance, for comfort, for strength in the midst of crisis and despair. When all about you there is darkness and gloom, you can turn to God. Within the context of the entire Lenten season, this aspect of the Joel text could serve as an introduction to a larger theme of turning to God. The Old Testament provides numerous examples of God's people turning to their Source and Strength amid famine, the wilderness, and military invasions.

2) Fasting

It has become fashionable in many Christian circles to give up something for Lent. Chocolate. Or meat. Perhaps soda. Silly as they may be, these practices have a history, a biblical history. If your religious community is particularly accustomed to giving up items, even small ones, for Lent, this passage may help them reframe these actions, better understand their history, and appreciate their theological significance.

The Old Testament speaks of fasting within the contexts of religious piety and mourning. Abstaining from food was viewed as an act of penance on the part of the pious and/or an appropriate response to death. In the context of ancient Israel, giving up one type of food is not mentioned; fasting is generally seen as abstaining from all food for a prescribed (short) amount of time. The authors in ancient Israel affirmed the worthiness of this practice, while also criticizing those whose fasting was shallow or empty, i.e., without a virtuous purpose. Isaiah 58, an alternate reading for Ash Wednesday, for example, scoffs at those who fast while simultaneously exploiting workers. The external practice of fasting must be congruent with other outward practices, such as sharing bread with the hungry and clothing the naked. Christians today who fast from soda during Lent but find no time to love their neighbors have not yet learned the biblical significance of fasting.

3) God of Grace and Patience

The passage also provides a truly amazing portrait of God that is often overlooked by those who routinely speak of a vengeful "God of the Old Testament." The God to whom people are called to turn is described in remarkable adjectives; here's the phrase in multiple modern translations:

"merciful and compassionate, very patient, full of faithful love, and ready to forgive." (Common English Bible)

"gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness, and relenting of evil." (New American Standard)

"gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing." (New Revised Standard)

"gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, and renouncing punishment." (JPS Tanakh)

This list of five divine attributes appears at least eight times in the Hebrew Scriptures, including Exodus 34:6 and Jonah 4:2. The overall picture of God is one of magnanimity, extreme patience, and forgiveness. For those who think the Old Testament offers little value, or those who tend to read the Bible along the lines of a simple formula, Old Testament = God of violence and New Testament = God of love, this description of God shocks.

What a powerful way to begin the Lenten season—to call people to turn their hearts and minds toward a gracious, patient, loving God.