apologies that the pics do not come up in the text (just copy and paste the links to see them)
When one is ordained to be a Lutheran
minister, one chooses two sponsors to stand with them as they take their
vows. One of my sponsors was a mentor –
my pastor though my teenage years. On
ordination day he gave me a silver cross. The cross was second hand. It was
given to my mentor by one of his classmates.
The classmate made a cross for each student in the Waterloo Lutheran
Seminary Class of 1979. The crosses were
made from silver that his family had brought with them when fleeing Eastern
Europe at the end of WWII. The cross is
a traditional Orthodox rendition. The cross has three cross bars: two on the
top (one for the plaque – “Jesus, King of the Jews;” and one where Jesus’ arms
would have been); and one on an angle at the bottom where Jesus’ feet would
have been.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orthodox_cross
My home parish in Owen Sound, ON, has
a large oak crucifix in a prominent position on the front wall above the
altar. One cannot miss the cross. Jesus
is realistically carved; hanging on the cross in agony and wearing a crown of
thorns. There were those who appreciated
the crucifix as art, those who revered it; others who disliked the graven
image, or the ghastliness of a continued reminder of death.
http://www.lcosos.ca/index_files/Page389.htm
During seminary I was in a placement
at the Lutheran Church in St. Jacob’s, ON.
That year on Good Friday the pastor had the congregation experience the
procession of the cross in a unique manner. The cross, made of 2x4s, was processed
to the front of the church and placed on the church steps (just as it is done
at Resurrection each year). The pastor
then proceeded to invite the congregation to come forward and place a nail in
the cross –a tangible action to embody our part in crucifying the saviour of
the world. I will never forget the
goosebumps and chill of the sound of nails being driven into the wood. Every
strike shorten one’s breath and reverberated through every cell of the body.
The story was real. I was part of the story.
A number of years ago at a Good Friday
service, the sermon took the form of the congregation participating in a
cruciform prayer. Each person stood with
their arms extended at shoulder height.
Facing East we said a threefold prayer – “Christ before me, Christ
behind me; Christ to my right, Christ to my left; Christ within me, Christ
beyond me” - this was repeated three times.
Then congregation members turned to the other directions and repeated
the same threefold prayer three times each direction. As the prayer was prayed arms began to feel
heavy, hearts warmed, bodies breathed shallow, fatigue set in; there was a
sense of embodying, in small measure, the enormity of God’s action on the
cross.
The cross that usually greets us in
the space at Resurrection is one that is of a darker wood with a brass cross in
the middle of the cross bars. The brass
cross is currently covered with a purple cloth, to be unveiled for the
celebration of Easter- to shine “glory.” Once upon a time the altar was against
the wall under the rosetta window. The brass cross stood on a tiered structure and
sat front and centre on the altar. When the altar was removed from the wall,
the cross kept its central place, enhancing a simpler larger wooden cross.
http://users.eastlink.ca/~lutheranchurch/directory.html
A few weeks ago I was asked to prepare
a paper on contemporary Christian festivals and holidays – to share in
conversations with Muslims in Halifax; the Muslims had a representative who
prepared a similar paper on Muslim festivals.
In the explanation of Lent and Good Friday, the cross was mentioned as a
symbol of the Season. The paper included
a footnote that there are over 400 varieties of the symbol of the cross; each
with its own particular nuance of meaning.
Take a moment and reflect on the
primary images of the cross that have been a part of your life.
For some, the images of the cross that
have been in our lives, have affected our understanding of the cross, and have
contributed to our theology. The crosses
in my life have affected who I am.
Having a father who disliked the crucifix at Our Saviour’s, ON, (viewing
it as idolatrous), gave me pause to think about what I thought about it. I
never took offense. In fact I was drawn
to the image…
…later in seminary, I learned about
the “theology of the Cross.” This
theology was the articulation of what I had felt growing up – the crucifix
affected my inward parts, constantly being Word – saying that God chose to
enter the human condition and find us in suffering, vulnerability, and
pain. It is a reassurance that there is
nothing we can do to earn salvation. It is a covenant promise that we are not
alone. It is the assurance of God’s
presence –in, with, and under- the circumstances of life. It is a moment of
humility, embracing brokenness, and accepting that I am “dust and to dust I shall return.”
It has meant that Maundy Thursday and
Good Friday are “the must” days of the Church Year for me– I could miss Easter –
The cross given to me by my mentor has
informed a different part of my theology.
This cross has a long and complex story – the silver in the cross came
from a distant place as a prize possession and a means to life and beginning
again in a new place; the story of the people who carried the heirloom silver
from a time of chaos and displacement; a deep faith moving in realms of Orthodox
tradition to other expressions of faith; a gift of love to fellow classmates –
a gift of love to me. The cross reminds
me of the precious nature of the story I carry, the story we all carry, from
generation to generation; a story of hope, new beginnings, and belonging. I am but one purveyor of the Word.
The resource “Sundays and Seasons,” commented on the John reading (John 12:
20-33) that it is made “clear that Christ is lifted up by being executed on the cross.” As an idea for the day, a suggestion is made
to reflect on the physical drawing of one’s eyes upward – looking up to the
cross. This was the case in my home parish, it is the case at Resurrection, we
look up at the cross each week. The
cross is the focal point.
Take a moment and tilt your head
upward; breathe. What do you notice?
Looking upward changes our stance.
Looking up and out –we breathe better; the sun can hit our face; we see beyond
ourselves; we are filled with more; the world is bigger than me; there is new
possibility for hope, new beginnings, and belonging. There is room for many –
for all.
I invite you to consider the crosses
in your home, those from your past, those in church – consider what they are
telling you about the event of Jesus’ death and resurrection. There are 400+ variations of the cross image,
with 400+ variations in meaning. How
would you draw the cross? What does the cross mean to you? What does Jesus’ death mean for you?
Tilt your head, lift your eyes –
Create
in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.
Do
not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore
to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. (Psalm 51 – today’s Psalm).
