It was Ash Wednesday in Chicagoland. It fell this year on March 9th, so it came as no surprise that it was rainy and cold that morning. We arrived at the Geneva Metra train station at 6:15 AM dressed in black cassocks, white surplices, and rubber boots. We carried sandwich board signs which read "Ash Wednesday Ashes Here."
We didn't know what the response would be. A colleague had cautioned us about "delivering empty symbols" to a disinterested world, but we felt strongly, my colleague and I. Where better to meet people than where they live and work and play? Why wait for them to come into church? A few people walked past, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Most people smiled. Some people stopped and asked for ashes, and so we imposed ashes on their foreheads, and said a short prayer with them, and offered them a small meditation card to take on the train with them. They climbed onto their trains, and some waved as their trains pulled out. Many smiled. There was no contempt that showed. People seemed to like the idea of "church in the marketplace."
The best surprise of all? People on trains called home on their cell phones. They told them to come to the Metra station so their kids could see church people giving out Ash Wednesday ashes. So they came. Curious. Interested. Smiling.
On their way to something else, but they came. Because word got out.
The Word has a way of getting out.
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