The
cross stands at the very center of our faith and its meaning has been explored
down through the centuries. The truth is
that our explanations, while interesting and helpful, always seem to fall
short. C. S. Lewis put it well when he
wrote in Do Souls Go To Heaven:
“We
are told that Christ was killed for us, that His death has washed out our sins,
and that by dying He disabled
death itself. That is the formula. That is Christianity. That is what has
to be believed. And theories we build up
as to how Christ’s death did all this are, in my
view, quite secondary: mere plans or diagrams to be left alone if they do not
help us, and, even if they do help
us, not to be confused with the thing itself.
All the same, some of these
theories are worth looking at.”
For
myself, the cross overwhelms me. The
image is so powerful that I do not preach on Good Friday, but simply retell the
story. What can I add? The cross is the ultimate statement of our
denial of God. We literally “cross” God
out. We say “No” in the most brutal and
direct means possible. We nail God’s son
to a cross, raise him from the ground, and let him die amidst ridicule and
threats. We say “No”, but God in the
most extraordinary and gracious way says “Yes” to us. Jesus offers words of forgiveness from the
cross itself. “Father, forgive them; for
they know not what they do.” Easter and
the Resurrection are God’s confirmation of that grace poured out upon us. The cross is the sign of God’s suffering love
that will not let us go even though holding on to us costs Jesus his life.
In
the living of my life, the image stands before me. No matter what I do that rejects and or turns
away from God, the cross is a constant reminder of God’s faithfulness and love
of me. God will not turn away from me no
matter how I say “No”, no matter what the cost.
I am overwhelmed and humbled by such love. My life has been shaped and changed by that
love and continues to be impacted. I
have been marked with the cross of Christ forever.
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