TAKE UP THY CROSS

A SERMON FOR PASSION SUNDAY

“And when he had called the people unto him with his disciples also, he said unto them, Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.  For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake.. the same shall save it.”

The hymn on the back of today’s bulletin is probably familiar to you. It’s drawn from the quotation I just read from St. Mark’s Gospel, and during the last few weeks, we’ve become somewhat familiar with the first part of it—the “let him deny himself” part. Since Ash Wednesday, we’ve been doing, I hope, just that: denying ourselves.  Yes, we do want to be our Lord’s disciples, and yes, we do want to follow him.  And so we followed.  On the first Sunday in Lent we followed him into the wilderness and committed to a fast of forty days.  On the second Sunday in Lent we followed him up the Mount of Transfiguration, and were strengthened in our prayer and fasting.  On the third Sunday we witnessed our Lord performing exorcisms, and we were reminded that it is only by prayer and fasting that our own demons can be driven out. And then last week, Laetare Sunday, as we numbered ourselves with the multitude who followed our Lord into the wilderness once more, fasting and hungry, we saw the reward that awaits those who freely do penance for the sake of our Lord, watching as he fed the five thousand, and conscious of the bread of life now given us in the Holy Eucharist.

I hope we have learned much this Lent.  I hope that these four Sundays have taught us at least the value of denying ourselves.  But now, we transcend to a higher level of self-denial.  Now is the time to move on from mere fasting and penance to a willingness to really suffer for Christ and with Christ, and to do so unto death itself. By death, I don’t necessarily mean martyrdom, although if that is the means of death that is presented to us, then by all means we must carry our cross to a very real Calvary.  But death comes to us all in one form or another, and our crosses will continue (and probably get heavier) as we approach that hour. 

“Whosoever will come after me,” said our Lord, “let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” It is time now to take up that cross.

And how do we do that?  Should we ask God for a cross?  There are saints who have asked this, but it’s a special calling by God to ask this and mean it.  It’s permissible, certainly, but be careful what you pray for.  God does answer prayer.  I would tend to advise against it, unless you’re an extremely generous soul and aware of the consequences.  I’ve known people who have offered themselves to God as victim souls, and their lives are now filled with crosses you can’t imagine.  

Or maybe we should make our own crosses?  This is also permissible, but should be done according to the amount of love we have for God.  Indeed, the degree to which we deny ourselves is how we measure our love of God.  Don’t overestimate how much that love is.  We may very easily, in a moment of giddy sentimentality, offer more than we’re actually prepared to give or truly capable of giving.  Don’t start Lent with the idea of fasting on bread and water for forty days—unless your love for God is capable of sustaining such a resolution.  Leave that kind of thing to the professionals—the saints and holy ones whose love for God cannot be contained.  The rest of us aren’t meant to take up whips and scourge ourselves till we bleed.  Rather, with the virtue of humility let us measure our own weak and superficial love of God against the unchained love these saints had.  They certainly knew the value of suffering, and there isn’t one canonized saint I can think of who didn’t suffer heroically during his or her lifetime.  St. Rose of Lima explained why: “Apart from the cross, there is no other ladder by which we may get to heaven.”

So Rule Number One is don’t ask God for more than you can handle.  And Rule Number Two is don’t bite off more than you can chew.  Our real challenge lies in how we take up the crosses that we’re given—that just appear one day on our shoulders.   After all, who amongst us here today does not have such crosses to carry already?  For some, their weight may seem unbearable, for others merely heavy.  But we all have things going on in our lives that cause us pain.  It might be physical pain, like a bad headache or a chronic disease.  Or it could be emotional pain caused by bereavement, financial troubles, marriage problems, and so on.  We can suffer in so very many ways, can’t we?  But one thing is sure—we don’t get to walk through this vale of tears without picking up a few crosses along the way.  And it’s how we regard these crosses and then handle these crosses that make us either a good or a not-so-good disciple of Christ.

So firstly, how should we regardall these crises in our life?  The first thing to remember is that the bad things that happen to us should be regarded as good things.  Crises are crosses.  And what is the cross, but the sign of our salvation, the sign that appeared to the Emperor Constantine in the heavens with the words “In this sign shalt thou conquer!”  We should truly love these crosses therefore. That doesn’t mean we should enjoy them. We don’t go around asking people if they’ve had any good toothaches lately.  But we should love these crosses and thank God for them, because they allow us to participate in our blessed Lord’s own holy cross, the instrument of both his suffering and our salvation.  Through the act of willingly suffering with him and dragging our own sorry crosses up our own Calvary, we merit the graces needed to follow him in his resurrection and ascension into heaven.

That’s how we should regardour crosses.  But how should we handlethem in practical terms? Should we seek to prolong them? To intensify them?  No.  If you have a bad headache, take a couple of extra-strength Tylenols and go to bed.  If you have a toothache, go to the dentist’s.  Don’t feel compelled to try and weather it out as a penance – especially if you have duties to perform that the pain stops you from doing. It’s not a sign of failure to take a painkiller now and again; it’s common sense.  God gave men intellects to invent drugs and come up with other remedies for our aches and pains, and it would be ungrateful of us not to use them appropriately.  So don’t handle your crosses by trying to make them heavier.  That’s breaking Rule Number Two, remember?   What you should do though, is humbly accept your crosses, and if the appropriate remedies don’t work, then and only then offer up the pain for as long as God chooses to allow it.  But as soon as it’s within your power to see a dentist and have the tooth removed, then go for it!  And don’t forget to thank God when the pain stops.

Crosses then are to be endured, not sought after.  God will certainly permit what we’re capable of handling. Sometimes though, we receive crosses that seem to be beyond our ability to handle.  What then?  The examples I’ve given so far are only trivial instances of suffering.  But when I turn on the news and see some of the horrific things some poor people have to through, it makes you wonder where they find the courage and strength.  The death of a child, perhaps.  Kidnapping or murder of a family member.  The horrors of war and the battlefield.  Mass starvation.  Beheadings, genocide.  All things that are mercifully rare, at least for us here in America.  But what if…?  Would I be able to handle it?  Could I embrace that cross and thank God for it?  We all wonder such things, but don’t worry too much about it:  when especially heavy crosses like these are placed upon our shoulders, God gives extra special graces to allow us to bear such burdens.

Meanwhile, we must take up the crosses we already do have on this Passion Sunday.   And then walk proudly forward.  We’re following behind our Saviour, so be glad! Together “we will go into the house of the Lord.”