A Meditation on the Cross

Homily for Sunday, August 29th
5th Sunday at Graves Chapel
Lessons for Holy Cross Day

The history of the cross itself is a history of transfiguration. As that favorite hymn "The Old Rugged Cross" says, the cross is "the emblem of suffering and shame." Death on the cross was meant to be humiliating, torturously slow, and excruciatingly painful. Inflicted on humanity for a thousand years, crucifixion was used as a means of execution from the 6th century BC until the 4th century AD, when the Roman Emperor Constantine, the first Christian Emperor, finally ended its use.

During those many years between the crucifixion of Jesus and the end of the terrible practice, other Christians were martyred on a cross. Of the apostles, Peter and Andrew were both crucified. Peter told his executioners that he was unworthy to be killed in the same way as His Lord, so he was crucified upside down. Dying in the name of Christ for one's faith became an honored tradition.

Nowadays the cross is ubiquitous. You can see crosses just about anywhere: dangling from ears or hanging on a chain around someone's neck, advertising Christian bookstores or planted in a group of three by the roadside. I have several crosses that I proudly wear as jewelry, but that use is not what I meant when I said the cross has its own history of transfiguration.

Think of the crosses you've seen. There are the simple ones, like the plain old wooden cross hanging above the pulpit here in the chapel. And there are beautiful ones, like the lovely one inlaid in the center of the chapel floor by Tom Pastore. Catholic crucifixes come in various shapes and sizes, but they all have a figure of the crucified Christ attached to them. Altars in most churches are adorned with stately brass crosses. No matter their shape, size, or appearance, all Christian crosses commemorate the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.

One of my favorite altar crosses is the one in the chapel at Richmond Hill. It is a brass cross, very similar to ours here. What makes it special to me is the way it is decorated. The engraving is not immediately obvious; only when the light in the chapel illumines it from a certain angle can you see the flowers that adorn the entire cross. I can't see it without thinking of Easter morning and of the flowering of the cross, of the joy of children as they bring spring flowers from their gardens to drape on a rustic wooden frame. The tradition of flowering the cross is for me the most profound illustration of Easter. From the humiliation, shame and agony of Good Friday, the cross is transfigured into a thing of hope, joy, and glorious beauty. Only Jesus himself could have wrought such a change.

As the collect for Holy Cross Day says, " our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself. Mercifully grant that we, who glory in the mystery of our redemption, may have grace to take up our cross and follow him." We all have a cross to bear, of one kind or another. Let us see the beauty of every cross we encounter as a reminder that our own pains, however awful they may be, can be transfigured by the grace of our Lord.