Writings: Carrying Our Cross

By: Dr. Gregory S. Neal

One Sunday after Church, when I was standing in the check- out line at the grocery store, another shopper turned to me and asked: “What’s the cross about?” I was still dressed in a clerical collar, so I looked the part of a preacher; often sparks conversations with strangers because many are curious about pastors and will take any opportunity to ask questions. This time, however, I was taken by surprise. I didn’t expect that question; it didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere, and I wasn’t wearing a cross at that moment. “I’m sorry?” I said, and the stranger asked again: “Why do Christians often wear a cross?” It was then that I noticed the person at the checkout counter was wearing a tiny cross, high up close to her neck.
“Why do Christians often wear a cross?” That’s a good question. Why do we wear them? What does the cross symbolize? What does the cross mean for us, personally and as a community of faith?

As a matter of historical reality, crucifixion was a barbaric method of execution. The Romans used crosses as an overtly gruesome, terrifyingly aggressive means of putting people to death. It wasn’t pretty; some of our artwork may try to sanitize it, but in truth crucifixion was a lingering, horrific, and humiliating way of killing people that was also intended to further terrorize and oppress subjugated populations. As a result, the instrument of that death – the cross – quickly developed a horribly negative connotation in the ancient world. Phrases like: “I glory in the cross,” and “Lift High the cross,” and “Jesus keep me near the cross,” and “At the cross, at the cross, where I first saw the light ...” all seem out of touch with the horrible reality of the kind of death that happens on a cross. Indeed, when the Church came into existence, the cross wasn’t used as a public symbol for Christianity. Yes, the cross was frequently referenced and given theological meaning in the New Testament, but it didn’t begin to be used as a visible symbol for Christianity until the very beginning of the 300s AD ... and, even then, it’s use was still a huge shock to those outside the Church. It was as startling then as it would be today if a group were to adopt an injection needle, the hangman’s noose, an electric chair, or a guillotine as the symbol for their movement. It struck others in the Roman world as being weird.

But today, for many Christians the cross symbolizes and reminds us that God loves us so much that God was willing to come into this existence as Jesus of Nazareth, be born as one of us, experience life as one of us, live with us, eat with us, walk with us, laugh with us, cry with us, suffer with us, and die with us. The cross reminds us that God refuses to let us go; God bridged the gap that our sins have dug between us and God by giving up privilege, power, and position and experiencing the pain, hardship, and separation that we all face in our physical and spiritual deaths. Christians have transformed this instrument of torture and gruesome death into an abiding reminder of the eternal love of God that doesn’t leave us, lost in our sins, but comes to be with us and to travel with us through the pain and loss of life.

How does one share all of that with a stranger in a checkout line at a grocery store in, perhaps, a couple of minutes? Churchy words are mostly useless when talking with people who are not churched folk. Christians have developed all sorts of terms and short-hand phrases to relate these big concepts and ideas, but these mostly all sound like so much jibber-jabber and to people on the outside, looking in. We think we’re making sense when we use them, but we’re not. Even when we quote the Bible, we frequently fail to be understood. Take, for example, our passage today:

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. (Mark 8:34- 35)

At first hearing, this sounds weird ... and even to Christians, it gives us a moment of pause. You lose your life by trying to save it? You save your life by losing it for Jesus’ sake? To follow Jesus, you’ve got to deny yourself and take up your cross? Lots of Christians, when they hear this, will think it’s telling them to obliterate themselves as being of any importance, and take up the cross of Christ. We’ve got hymns that say pretty much that; but that’s not what Jesus is saying here.

Denying oneself means that we must set aside our own needs, interests, understandings, and preferences, in favor of Christ. Anybody who has taken care of a loved one – a child, parent, or spouse – knows that love for the other often calls us to disregard our own needs in favor of theirs. This is what Jesus did when he came into this world, live with us and died for us. It’s what Jesus is calling us to do when we follow him: set aside our own desires in favor of us. But then, in the very next phrase, after telling us to deny ourselves, Jesus tells us to “take up” our cross and follow him. Not his cross; not the cross: our cross ... your cross.

Part of denying oneself is realizing that we really must not ignore the massive elephant in the room: our own self-will and desire ... our own sin. We’re going to have to deal with it. Oh, we’d love to ignore it, or pretend it’s not there, but we can’t. Ignoring it is about as effective as a cat trying to cover up its pile of poo on the carpet, in the middle of the living room, by pawing at it and making those burying motions next to the pile. That doesn’t work for the cat, does it? No. And it doesn’t work for us. We might try, but we will always fail.

Peter had just finished taking Jesus aside and rebuking him for talking about being betrayed and being killed. Peter was understandably upset at that word because it ran contrary to what he thought the role of the Messiah was supposed to be. Indeed, Peter’s frequent messes on the floor involved him allowing his own understanding and misunderstandings to get in the way of following Jesus. “Get behind me Satan” was Jesus’ response to Peter’s pile of poo. And, so frequently, it’s Jesus’ response to ours.

The season of Lent is about recognizing our own pile and, far from trying to hide it, actually dealing with it. That’s what carrying our cross is all about. It’s about dealing with the root causes of our sin, and the side-effects of those sins in our lives and in the lives of others. That’s another reason why Christians frequently wear crosses: to remind us not only of God’s love for us through Jesus’ sacrifice, but also to remind us of our need of God’s love. Denying self doesn’t mean ignoring the self: it means dealing with ourselves and our messes.

So what did I say to that lady, there in the check-out line at the grocery store? I said: “We often wear crosses because they were gifts, given to us by loved ones or friends, and as such they remind us of their love.” I then added: “And that’s a lot like what the cross means to Christians: it reminds us of the gift of God’s love in forgiving us, in accepting us even though we make horrible messes and need a lot of cleaning up after.”

The lady said: “like my love for my kids?”
“Yes ... exactly like that.”

The cross isn’t a sign that we’ve made it, or have attained some kind of spiritual perfection, or are someone to be admired. The cross is a reminder of God’s love for us, that we’ve got a whole lot of work to do, and that following Jesus requires that we do it.

What cross are you carrying this Lent? What mess do you need Christ’s help to clean up? Let’s get to it.

© 2021 Dr. Gregory S. Neal
All Rights Reserved