Weight of the Cross

Matthew 16:24-26

 

        While history is filled with examples of the church’s failure, I think we too often forget that revisionist history often excludes the exploits of Godly people. I am reminded of this whenever I get into a conversation concerning international politics. Folks who have never heard of Urban II want to blame the debacle in the Middle East entirely on the Crusades. I do not deny the church has a bloody history. But it also has a redemptive history based on Christ’s mandate that we strive be better each day at who we are and what we do. As Christians, we are encouraged to awaken each morning to the directive, “Deny yourself and take up the cross.” Beyond our history, beyond our misreading of history, beyond our yesterdays is this proclamation that we need to bring our faith to any conversation and offer our backs as part of any solution.

        I wrote those words three years ago. August of 2017 was not an ordinary month if you live in this part of Virginia. A week before Charlottesville had been the center of the media universe. Each of us had an opinion on what should have happened or perhaps what should not have happened in the streets of Hooville.  But that was three years ago. Now it is history. The narrative of that tragic day has been rewritten and revised. The lessons of that day, if there were any to learn, have been disregarded, perhaps neglected. Some don’t even recall what actually happened. Did anyone, on that fateful day deny themselves and take up the cross? What an odd question to ask. What does cross bearing have to do with riots in the streets? I wished I had asked myself that question three years ago.

Most of my opinions are formed by asking, “What will it cost me?” Sadly, too often that is an economic question reducing my answer to pure practicality. Once in a while the question creates an ethical dilemma which I quickly turn into a moral imperative. Then the real problem emerges.  I am right; therefore someone else is certainly wrong. So much for self-denial; So much for cross bearing.

        Last Monday was the fourth anniversary of the death of Sarah Armstrong. Sarah loved the idea of the cross. Me, not so much. Sarah grew up in a family dominated by the missionary philosophy of saving the world. Her father spent a lifetime in and out of the mission field. Songs like The Old Rugged Cross were sung regularly in her church. 

        While I know the song well I wrestle with words like, “The emblem of suffering and shame.” The idea of “Bearing that shame” no longer fits into my peculiar incarnational theology. We would argue, thankfully never agreeing to disagree for in our disagreements insights were discovered.

        We did agree while many people wear the cross, few choose to bear it. It is supposed to identify who we are and whose we are but I fear it is more of a symbolic icon. We place it on top of our churches. It remains a huge seller in jewelry stores.    If asked its significance I suspect most folks would speak about the wonders of resurrection and heaven. How many folks consider wearing the cross as a radical act of moral integrity?  

        When I was 13 my father gave me a Celtic cross. That cross hung around my neck for at least fifteen years. When my father gave it to me to remind me I was a Presbyterian. Then he added, “When you have to make a decision between what is right and wrong, clasp this cross in your fist and pray for insight.”  That cross was often quite heavy.

        When Jesus spoke to his disciples about cross bearing, he never mentioned the “wonders of the resurrection.” The cross was at the center of the paradoxical language Jesus was so fond of speaking. “When you lose yourself, you will find yourself.” “The one who loses his life for my sake will find his life.” “Deny yourself and take up my cross.”

        These sayings were treasured by Christians who lived in a culture threatened by talk of a man who had defied death. To disprove these claims, folks were executed.  When they did not rise from their graves, Rome declared the story of Jesus to be no more than a myth.

But the story would not die. It continued to be told. The Roman Empire collapsed under the weight of its own self-importance but the church lived. Today we are no longer threatened by the prevailing culture. The Nelson County Police Department is not sitting in our parking lot waiting to arrest you for worshipping Christ.  The church has ceased to be a threat to anyone.  We still “Cling to the Old Rugged Cross” but we have conveniently moved it to a wall in the sanctuary where it safely hangs between two candles. George MacLeod once remarked, “The original cross stood between two thieves on the town garbage heap. That is where the church should be.”

When we tell our story of faith let us always celebrate the empty tomb as our symbol of resurrection. But that was never the role of the cross. If we truly desire to be disciples of Jesus then we are called to live up to a higher standard. Bill Coffin liked to say, “Self-interest has never been wrong. But what kind of self are you interested in becoming?”

The Biblical story and the story of our faith lifts up folks who denied themselves and became cross bearers.  The biblical story celebrates folks who lose themselves in acts of compassion. The Samaritan stops to rescue an injured man. The shepherd goes into the night to find the lost sheep. The prodigal is welcomed home. The widow is lifted up. Jesus gathers children around him. The way of the cross is not always profitable or predictable. Sometimes it might not even be safe. The way of the cross is seldom easy. In the midst of life’s confusing narrative, Jesus puts the cross in the palm of our hand, and dare us to do the right thing.

When I was a child, just like Sarah, I sang The Old Rugged Cross. But there was another song we also sang titled I Love to Tell the Story. I am sure you all know it. I love to tell the story, twill be my theme in glory; To tell the old, old, story; Of Jesus and his love.     (stop)

How will history record our exploits? It will depend on how we tell the story. Stories are more than words, they are action taking flight. To tell the Jesus story we must live the story by becoming love incarnate. That will never happen until we deny ourselves and pick up the cross.       Amen.