The brand on our brow is a cry for help: I don’t know where I am or where I’m going—somebody point me in the right direction! We are like lost children in the woods, scratching marks into tree trunks to keep us from wandering in circles.

The smudge of ash is a map, a map that we can read only by looking at the brows of others. There we see the same dark sign, and realize it’s shaped like a cross. That is our destination.

The cross is not a reminder of death’s sway. It is an emblem of victory. It points the way to Christ’s triumph over death. This is where we are to go.