ST . . . sheep thief or saint

There’s this nice story I found in the internet last night. It’s the story of two brothers living in a sheepherding village many years ago. They were caught stealing sheep and, according to the rough custom of the village, each had the letters "ST" branded on their foreheads. They were tattooed, they were branded by the letters S and T on their foreheads. ST meant "sheep thief." One brother, unwilling to face the shame, left town and wandered about the country for many years. But after a while in each location, the meaning of the letters was learned and he had to move on. He lived as an outcast all his days.
The other man decided to make amends. He remained in his village and lived a blameless life. Trying to make up for his misdeeds, he became a caring neighbor, a trusted friend. He lived to a good old age and was dearly loved. One day a visitor asked a citizen what those letters, ST, on the old man's forehead meant. The friend thought for a while. Everyone had long since forgotten the true meaning of the letters. Finally, the man replied, "I think the letters stand for saint."


I believe this is what the ashes mean to us today. It is an ugly sign placed on our foreheads to signify that we are sinners, we have made mistakes, we have been selfish, and that we may have hurt people with our words and actions. But this mark, this ugly smear on our foreheads may one day reveal its true meaning - saint, the ugly mark may one day signify saint.
I would like to see the ashes marked on my head today as a nothing-something (forgive me that after the third day the nothing nothing something is still whirling in my head like a spinner of a washing machine though I would like to say that I am proud that most of you have survived it.) As I said I would like to see the ashes marking my forehead today as a nothing-something. Nothing is the possibility of something and something is grounded on nothing. They might be contrasts but they are also correlates. Allegorizing these existential concepts made me realize that the contrasts in my life are correlates, affecting or depending on one another: from my temper and tantrums comes my passion, from my struggle to overcome my weaknesses comes the awareness of my capacities and strengths, from my bad experiences and mistakes come my effort to achieve, from my struggle to set my failures aright comes my victories, and because of the vices I lived with I long and struggle to acquire the virtues. Isn’t this the felix culpa, the happy fault sang by easter - that because of the sin of our first parents we have merited for ourselves a savior?
This is the meaning of the ashes for me today. To see sin differently today, to see my mistakes from a different angle, to my weaknesses from a different perspective, to instance nothing as the possibility of something - all this because of God’s mercy.
Ashes are waste products, a by-product of something that was burnt, it is useless. But today in God’s mercy it can be useful again. See the ashes in you from a different perspective, this time in the light of the mercy and grace of God. And that dirty mark, that smudge of mud may one day become an ST, a Saint.