THERE’S A CROSS IN YOUR ROAD
March 8, 2009
Genesis 17: 1-7 15-16
Mark 8: 31-38
Rev. Dr. Dennis Winkleblack
Prospect United Methodist Church
Bristol, Connecticut
Click below for audio version of sermon.
In the church in Avon where I served from 1983-1990 they hang large banners (25 x 10) against the brick wall in the back of the chancel area for 46 weeks of the year. The banners have all been made by textile artists within the congregation, and are changed according to the colors of the church season. In fact, when our annual conference meets on Long Island, they often borrow some of these hangings for worship.
Because the ultra-modern sanctuary in Avon is brick, without stained glass windows, the large colorful banners are important for three reasons: They’re beautiful and thus inspiring; They call attention to the church season being celebrated; and they give a warmer feeling to worshippers in the otherwise cold brick interior.
During the season of Lent, however, things change. Then, instead of a colorful banner, they hang a large wooden cross against the brick wall.
Predictably, every year some parishioners would complain about how stark and cold the sanctuary seems without color. And, they’re right. It’s hard to argue with them. The sanctuary doesn’t seem warm during Lent. 
Yet, I often wondered if in our discussions about the large cross we were talking only about aesthetics. Wondered if perhaps some of the Avon folk, like good church folk everywhere, didn’t have an unconscious aversion to the cross in general.
I’m not talking about the particular cross in Avon, which was a most attractive piece of art. I’m not even talking about crosses of the kind worn as jewelry. I suspect many people wear crosses without even the slightest thought as to what it means.
No, I’m wondering if what bothered many of them about the cross is what bothers me about the cross. And that is that the cross has to do with life’s most unpleasant things -- suffering, with death.
I don’t know about you, but personally I prefer my religion to be full of warmth and color and happiness and joy and positive thinking and warm fuzzies and miracles and comfort and all the other benefits of walking with the Lord. I mean, this is a big reason why we keep coming back to church, right? And, of course, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying God and the benefits of life in Christ! Which is why the cross of Jesus disturbs this reverie.
If the cross makes us uneasy we’re in good company. The mere mention of a cross in the context of suffering and death really bothered Peter. You’ll remember that Peter had given up his lifelong vocation of fishing and left his family behind to follow Jesus. He likely thought only good times were ahead for him and for Israel. So, when Jesus began talking about his death and how everyone was expected to sacrifice, Peter was shocked and horrified and very scared. What was this, some kind of bait and switch? He didn’t like the idea one bit. Why couldn’t following Jesus just be full of good things like miracles and nice feelings? Why must there be negatives like suffering and death? Why must there be this business of a cross?
Peter clearly didn’t like the prospect of such a future. Nearly 2000 years later, most of us don’t like this disturbing cross business either.
We often hear people talk about the “crosses they have to bear.” Maybe it’s a chronic physical condition, an affliction, a pain, a duty, like taking care of someone, maybe a job that they can’t live with and certainly can’t afford to live without. “This is just my cross to bear,” they say. And we know what they mean: something beyond their control that they have to live with.
But this is not the kind of cross-bearing Jesus had in mind. Take up a cross, he said, not wait for one to be given. Big difference!
To this point, the cross that Jesus bore, literally, and was crucified on, was not something given to him entirely against his wishes. That is, at any time, as the old hymn suggests, “He could have called 10,000 angels.”
As well, Jesus could also have just stopped talking about controversial subjects, ceased going to certain places (especially Jerusalem and the Temple area) – and the authorities would have been glad to leave him alone. In fact, they preferred to leave him alone. They didn’t want to make a martyr out of him, unless he pushed it. But Jesus did push it. Everything he did begged for confrontation. So, the authorities had to act or lose face with the people. Because Jesus didn’t back off, they sent him to the cross.
And that’s the cross he had to bear. But be very clear: he chose to bear it because his love for you was so great.
Cross-bearing for us, accordingly, means the same thing: we choose to risk something that is very precious to us. It could be our very life, but most of us are not nearly that spiritually developed to be asked to give up our physical lives.
So for us, the call to take up a cross is more likely to be to adopt a way of life or do something specific that will radically affect our usual way of life. In other words, to take up a cross will cost us.
May cost us our time. May cost us our pleasures. May cost us money. May cost us our security. May cost us our friends. May cost us our self-image. To take up the cross of Jesus will cost us.
So, why in the world then would we willingly take up such a cross? Because we feel it’s the right thing to do, even if it makes no sense to anyone else. Because this Jesus somehow reaches into our hearts and minds and impels us to risk something precious in order to gain something that only Jesus can give.
Of course, there are times when choosing a cross and sacrificing one’s own wants and preferences is not really all that hard to do. “Someone’s sick, will you teach the Sunday School class?” “Well, I don’t really want to, I’d wanted to go to worship on Sunday, but sure. It’s not that big a deal. Glad to help out.”
But there are those other times when sacrifice is called for and, no two ways about it, you just absolutely don’t want to do it. You’ve taken your turn at teaching and you’ve got something planned for the weekend.
Or, on another occasion, you’re touched by a need that someone has or the church has and you know you have the money or the skill to make a lot of people’s dreams come true, but…. Will you take up that cross?
Or, you know someone or ones aren’t being treated fairly by the company or by the boss you share, but to speak up is to risk your own job. Will you take up that cross?
Or, you want to work, say for some kind of affordable housing in your community, but your closest friends are adamantly opposed. Property values, they say. Will you take up that cross?
Or, your spouse is asking for more togetherness but you actually like to work long hours and, besides, you have your own hobbies and interests that don’t involve her or him. Will you take up that cross?
Well, you get the idea. You’re called upon to sacrifice something you really want for another’s good. And it isn’t going to be fun. And it may even be very risky.
Soon enough, Easter will be here. There’ll be a great celebration. In Avon, color will return to the sanctuary. Here, we’ll have Easter flowers and the organ will resound with joy. I can’t wait.
We’re wise, however, to remember that just as Jesus had to do, in order to get to Easter’s new life successfully, we must go by way of a Good Friday way of life. That before sharing in the blessings of God, we must share the pains of God who gave it all. That before we receive the crown, we willingly choose the way of the cross.
I’ve examined myself, and I know there’s a cross in my road. I know what it is, and I’ve decided I’m going to pick it up and bear it as best I can. For Jesus’ sake. Believe me, not my own. I pray I don’t lose my resolve.
But that’s me. Truth is, if your baptism long ago took in any way, there’s a cross in your road, too. If you haven’t already discovered it or asked God to show it to you, do so.
And, when you find it, trust the Lord, and pick it up. “For whoever would save his life will lose it. But whoever loses his life for Jesus’ sake and the Gospel’s will save it.”