The cross creeps me out. I have always been horrified by it. It was gruesome. It was torture. It was bloody, painful, and mutilating. It was the worst of what human beings are capable of. And the one we most admire and adore went through it. For us. That has always left me feeling somewhere between guilty and grossed out. I guess there was a little bit of gratitude in there too, but I have a low tolerance for horrible things, especially horrible things that are real.
The cross overwhelmed me so I pushed it away. Wow, that was amazing that you did that for me. Can we talk about something else now? Perhaps some of my revulsion is because of the horrible things I've lived through. Perhaps some of it is a reflection of the American avoidance of death. But perhaps some of it was a lopsided understanding of what the cross was really about. I only saw the pain.
"God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." Romans 5:8
That one little sentence changes everything about the crucifixion. The cross isn't just about torture. It isn't about a blood-thirsty God who demands human sacrifice as payment for our sins. It is proof of love. The cross is a real-life demonstration of love!
The passion is a story like the childbirth stories I tell my children. Every year on their birthday, I start with, "# years ago, at this moment, ..." and relate the story in real time. I include the hard stuff, like when I was having my oldest and the pain made me blind, was knocking me unconsciousness, and that if I screamed loud enough, I could year the scream and not the pain in my mind. It was really hard. And then I end every story with, "and it was worth every bit of it to have you," because it's true. All the pain and horror was worth every bit of it to have those beautiful children be mine.
The point of the cross is for us to understand the depth of God's love. The passion is a story we tell over and over about how much God loves us. God knew that just hearing about divine love wouldn't be enough. Just doing miracles wouldn't be enough. Just speaking deep truths, the kind of truths that change lives, wouldn't be enough. God had to do something so big that we would truly believe that God really and truly loves us.
The cross was payment for sin, but the payment wasn't made to God, it was made to us. It was made to us so that all the things we do to alienate ourselves from God (sin) would be swept away with closeness and intimacy. It was God doing the most dramatic thing so that we would believe and accept the depth of God's love.
Today, as I begin to glimpse how deeply and completely God loves me, I'm reminded of Jesus' teaching: "pick up your cross and follow me." I've always thought that was about suffering with compassion. But if the cross was God's proof of love, then does taking up my cross mean my own demonstration of love? Does it mean that just telling people I love them isn't enough? Just being good to them isn't enough? Just being present and not leaving isn't enough? I have to take action that leaves no doubt in people's mind that I love them.
The great saints have made great demonstrations of love. The apostles all went to their own crosses, literally. Dorothy Day lived with the homeless her whole life. Oscar Romero spoke up for victimized of his beloved El Salvador and paid with his life. St. Francis of Assisi gave up all wealth and lived in poverty. St. Francis Xavier left every familiarity and missioned to Japan. Mother Teresa cared for the diseased and dying. They all made great demonstrations of love.
I've seen ordinary people in my own life make great demonstrations of love — a friend who adopted a 10-year-old boy out of foster care, a friend who spends his retirement working long hours with the homeless, a friend who serves as a Scout leader, in spite of stressful job with long hours, a married couple who remained committed to each in other as they weathered cancer and infertility. And so many more. There are great and wondrous demonstrations of love all around us.
As I walk this holy week, thinking toward Friday when I will touch the cross, venerate what Christ did for me, I will look for the next best way to demonstrate my love.
