Behold the Wood of the Cross

Good Friday

Behold the Wood of the Cross, On Which is Hung our Salvation

Every Good Friday we practice a peculiar form of devotion. We venerate the cross, usually with a kiss. This practice goes back to the 5^th century in Jerusalem, after St. Helen is said to have discovered the true cross of Christ and brought it back to Rome. Since that time Christians have venerated probably the most heinous torture device ever devised by man. It must seem strange to non-Catholics to see us bend down and kiss a piece of wood. We ourselves may feel awkward doing it. It doesn’t seem natural. We’d rather pray before a beautiful statue or painting, not a symbol of death.

We don’t like the cross. We don’t like to confront our own suffering and death. We don’t like to be reminded of the example Jesus set for us on Calvary. Jesus didn’t like the cross, either. He asked his Father to take that particular cup from him. It is the only time in scripture where Jesus asked his Father to not do something. But he embraced the cross when it became clear that it was the Father’s will that he do so.

We don’t understand the cross, but Jesus did. He didn’t see it as an instrument of humiliation. He saw it as the path to his ultimate glorification. He didn’t think of it as a method of torture. He saw it as a way to draw our own sufferings into his and so give them great meaning and purpose. He didn’t see a means of execution. He knew that through his death he would destroy death forever. He did not see it as the end of life, but the beginning of eternal life. Without his death there could be no resurrection.

Jesus said that if we are to be his followers we are to pick up our crosses and follow him. He never said we had to die with him, only treat our daily crosses as he treated his. Once Jesus accepted the will of his Father to pick up that cross, he used it as a tool for conversion and ultimately the salvation of the world. We are called to do the same.

Consider the people who were affected by Jesus’ Way of the Cross. There was Pilate’s wife. The women of Jerusalem. Veronica. Simon of Cyrene. The Roman Centurian. The Good Thief. The Beloved Disciple. Mary and the women at the foot of the cross. It wasn’t Jesus’ words that necessarily changed their lives, it was the action of the cross.

If we are to be his disciples we must pick up our cross daily and follow him. It is through our individual crosses that we can change the world. Our example in how we handle the suffering in our lives can be the most powerful conversion tool in the world, far stronger than our words of testimony. Jesus’ detractors wanted to see him humbled in the dust. They did not want him to get up and continue on. They wanted to see him defeated. They were watching to see how he would react.

People are watching us, just as the crowds watched Jesus. People who are hostile to our faith watch most closely of all. They are waiting for us to stumble and fall, and they want us to stay on the ground. How will we react?

Who are the people in our own Vias Delorosas? Can our own submission to the will of our Father cause someone to be so disturbed that they choose to believe? Can those who pray for us find strength in our weakness? Can the stranger who helps us when no one else will be left with an indelible mark of our humility on their hearts? Will the reluctant unbeliever be inspired by our cross to go out and help others? Will the incorrigible sinner come to the Lord for mercy for the first time in his life? Will those who persecute us ultimately come to believe that Jesus truly is the Son of God? Will our own families and those closest to us draw strength from our strength?

Suffering is a part of life. We will all be touched by it in some way or another. How we deal with our suffering will determine its ultimate value. Will we allow it to wear us down and destroy us, or will we see it as Jesus saw his, as a tool to bring souls to salvation?

It all comes down to the cross. Will we embrace it or reject it? Behold the wood of the cross. Without it there can be no salvation. O come, let us adore.