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When I began school many many moons ago my parents purchased for me the World Book Encyclopedia. I loved those books and often would find myself on a rainy Oregon day pouring over slick, colorful pages featuring exotic lands like Africa, the Caribbean or Moses homeland -- the Middle East.
There were also other fascinating pages displaying the flags of the fifty states, or military insignia, or marine distress signals.
Along with pages like these I could also find pages featuring the many different kinds of crosses. There were rows and rows of crosses of all kinds of shapes and configurations.
The Maltese Cross, The Latin Cross, the Greek Cross, the Jerusalem Cross. The Cross of Lorraine. The Cross of Lithuania. The Cross of St. Francis, or St. Bridget. The Cross of St. Andrew or St. Peter.
I discovered that throughout history the central image of our faith – the cross – has assumed many shapes and sizes. The cross has come to represent not just the salvation won for us by Christ, but different nationalities, regions, organizations and cultures as well.
And then there are the specific crosses that we can recall from our own life. I can remember, for instance, the elegant, gilded cross that stood atop the steeple of a church in Germany. I can also remember the simple cross cut into the unpainted boards on the side of a neighbor’s barn that would light up at Christmas. 2
Both of them testaments of a faith dwelling in the heart of a local individual and community built on hard work and fervent prayer.
And I would be willing to bet that most of us here have memories of certain crosses…crosses that mark certain seasons, places, and events in our lives.
The cross you received at your First Communion or Confirmation.
The cross that hangs in the hallway near the front door of your home.
The cross alongside of a busy highway marking the site of a tragic death.
But today’s Gospel speaks of a different sort of cross. It speaks of the cross of Christ himself and it refers most specifically to the feel of that cross – the weight of that cross on a person’s shoulder pressing upon an anguished soul – the sort of cross that is dragged -- not carried -- through the dust of the road.
“Whoever does no take up the cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.”
Strong words. We are no longer speaking about a cross on the page of an encyclopedia or one that we hang on the wall, or wear around our neck, or admire from afar – we are no longer speaking about a cross that is external to our life.
No, we are suddenly speaking about the dark realm of things like alcohol addiction and sex addiction; and physical impairments and emotional illness; a troubled child; a troubled phase in one’s marriage, a troubled relative or friend -- so-called “crosses’ which people carry with great difficulty and despite great effort often find excruciatingly difficult to endure. 3
We are speaking about the so-called “crosses” in the form of personal suffering and challenge that naturally and understandably repel us but which Christ urgently and insistently calls us to embrace for the sake of following him.
“Whoever does not take up the cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.”
If we merely skim the surface of this passage, we could easily – and unfortunately – conclude that the core teaching within it is the harsh and insipid admonition: “just remember, friends, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
But this is not what the Gospel of Christ teaches us. This is not the message beneath the words of today’s passage.
No! What Christ teaches us and what the message beneath the words is telling us is that the burdens we carry do not and can not fit our shoulders alone -- we need to bear in mind that the Lord himself – Christ himself – is with us – that the cross that we carry is his cross -- therefore, we do not carry it alone.
It is his strength that assists us in shouldering the burden.
It is his mercy that relieves the burning remorse of our sin.
It is his stamina that allows us to carry on without being crushed.
And finally, it is his love that anoints the wounds and soothes our minds, our bodies and our souls. 4
Yes, an amazing healing is ours as we endeavor to follow him – indeed, to walk at his very side beneath the beam of the cross on which hangs the salvation of the world.
So ultimately my friends, the cross is not just a symbol found in an encyclopedia or atop tall steeples or around our neck. It is not a symbol festooned on flags or even marking the graves of those we loved.
The cross is an experience – an experience.
The essential experience of living the life of a Christian.
The essential experience on which our happiness depends.
The essential experience of the intimate joining of our life – and everything that happens within that life – to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ our Savior and our Friend.