Numbers 21:4-9 or Philippians 2:6-11
John 3:13–17
In John's Gospel, Jesus seems to use the term "lifted up" (or "raised up") both in the sense of crucifixion and in the sense of resurrection. The feast of the Exaltation of the Cross that we celebrate today bears this splendid message: dying and rising are not separated far away from each other. Our sufferings have a purpose, they are salvific. This feast invites us to accepting the cross with joy. As Pope Francis says, either the cross is embraced or rejected. As Christians the cross is our hope and life. Our way to salvation is revealed only when we embrace our cross and sufferings. No pain, no gain. No cross, no crown. Unless the wheat dies, there is no fruitfulness. It is in carrying the cross that we find joy, it is in dying to oneself that we find life. Therefore, there is no radical distinction between joy and sorrow. As Jesus affirms, your sorrow itself will turn into joy. It is not the removal of sorrow, but accepting it gives us life and hope.
The cross is a collision of opposites, coming together of opposing energies. On the cross, Jesus countered our pride with humility; he countered our violence with gentleness; he countered our hatred with the Love that forgives. The cross is the event which enables God’s love to enter into our personal history, to draw close to each of us, to become a source of healing and salvation. On the cross we meet man but also God, we encounter death but also life in its fullness, desperation as well as hope, history as well as mystery, brokenness as well as wholeness, shame as well as glory, defeat as well as triumph, earth as well as heaven.
Jesus was killed on the collision of cross-purposes, conflicting interests, and half-truths. The cross was the price Jesus paid for living in a “mixed” world that was both human and divine, simultaneously broken and utterly whole. He hung between a good thief and a bad thief, between heaven and earth, inside of both humanity and divinity, a male body with a feminine soul, utterly whole and yet utterly disfigured—all the primary opposites. Jesus “recapitulated all things in himself, everything in heaven and everything on earth” (Ephesians 1:10).
The cross is the standing icon and image of God, showing us that God knows what it's like to be rejected; God is in solidarity with us in the experience of abandonment; God is not watching the suffering from a safe distance. Somehow, believe it or not, God is in the suffering with us. Jesus's solidarity with suffering on the cross is actually "an acceptance of a certain meaninglessness in the universe," it nonsensical tragic nature, a black hole that seems constantly to show itself to sensitive souls. To accept some degree of meaninglessness is our final and full act of faith that God is still good and still in control. This is the cross in our lives. That we need to accept some kind of meaninglessness, that there will be events that will not meet our understanding and comprehension, that there is pain in the world even when we think good, and do good.
Jesus was killed on the collision of cross-purposes, conflicting interests, and half-truths. The cross was the price Jesus paid for living in a “mixed” world that was both human and divine, simultaneously broken and utterly whole. He hung between a good thief and a bad thief, between heaven and earth, inside of both humanity and divinity, a male body with a feminine soul, utterly whole and yet utterly disfigured—all the primary opposites. Jesus “recapitulated all things in himself, everything in heaven and everything on earth” (Ephesians 1:10).
The cross is the standing icon and image of God, showing us that God knows what it's like to be rejected; God is in solidarity with us in the experience of abandonment; God is not watching the suffering from a safe distance. Somehow, believe it or not, God is in the suffering with us. Jesus's solidarity with suffering on the cross is actually "an acceptance of a certain meaninglessness in the universe," it nonsensical tragic nature, a black hole that seems constantly to show itself to sensitive souls. To accept some degree of meaninglessness is our final and full act of faith that God is still good and still in control. This is the cross in our lives. That we need to accept some kind of meaninglessness, that there will be events that will not meet our understanding and comprehension, that there is pain in the world even when we think good, and do good.
The cross is not the price that Jesus had to pay in order to convince God into loving us. No. It is rather simply where love will lead us. If we love, if we give ourselves to feel the pain of the world, it will crucify us. But only in and through the cross that we shall see life and resurrection. The cross is that which gives ultimate meaning to us; it embraces all our meaninglessness to give us a Saviour, and through him our salvation.
O Jesus, we adore your Holy Cross; from it came life and salvation.
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