Reflections on the Cross

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).