It only happens one day a year...

At first they gather in the center isle with their head down, and their focus is closely held. The people who come forward seem reluctant to approach and their eyes are mostly downcast. The first time the people approach you they are reserved - even a little uncomfortable.

Ashes are hard.

Then, suddenly they change posture. As they approach the second time everything is new. When they come up to you again their eyes are brighter – their faces are brighter and a light shines from them as they receive the Body of Christ. As they come back again – they are hope filled. Eucharist is the light that they share with the world.

On one day each year we assemble for Mass on Ash Wednesday and as ministers we experience a unique juxtaposition. We minister to those who come up the isles in two modes. The contrast of these modes, when you reflect on it, is a snapshot of salvation.

As we touch the people we serve – as we reach up and brush their hair aside, timing our ritual of touch with the words we say, we witness their resignation. Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel. As this first touch takes place, some flinch, some are mildly thankful; some simply accept the thing they have been charged with and walk away - eyes cast down.

For the minister, giving ashes becomes prayer. There is a rhythm which develops and a cadence which takes over. With each person, the connection is made and the sign of the cross is imparted, leaving behind its black, dusty, ashen mark. Turn away from sin and know there is coming hope. Know in fact, that hope is here.

Hope comes in Eucharist.

This next time they come with head held high. The people arrive in the same order as before. The exact same people – same order – same cadence – but this time there is a different mark that lingers. This time there is brightness with the people who step forward – hands extended with their punctuating AMEN. This time there is joy in their communion and it shows on their face, highlighting the ashes on their head.

Again there is a touch. Again there is a connection. As ministers, we touch and connect as we communicate the Body of Christ together with the words which name who we are as we receive who we name. But this time the touch is different. There is no flinch and no resignation in their acceptance. This time there is joyful recognition and union and communion. AMEN.

There is a unique grace when we communicate the Body of Christ to a person bearing the ashes they have received moments before. In this moment we share with them the mark of our faith – the source and summit of it – and suddenly the first mark, the ashen one, becomes an icon of redemption and hope.

AMEN.