Throughout history, the cross has always been a challenging image. Crucifixion, reserved for the most hardened criminals and enemies of state, was the cruelest form of Roman capital punishment. A symbol of shame and suffering to the ancient world, the Church initially refrained from depicting Christ’s crucifixion in art, portraying instead healings, the resurrection, and the Eucharist. Even when the first known crucifixion scene emerged on the doors of Rome’s Santa Sabina in the fifth century, it presented a risen Christ rather than the suffering Man of Sorrows.
St. Paul relays that the cross became a “stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles” (1 Cor 1:23), its scandal being it bore the body of a God who suffered and died. As it did then, the thought of exalting weakness, suffering and mortality — of venerating an instrument of torture — seems ludicrous. Yet, we exalt the cross because Christ transforms it into one of glory and love by redeeming us.
God extends his cross to us in every inconvenience, disappointment, trial and sorrow we experience. Each cross, whether it be physical, spiritual, emotional or mental, is specifically tailored to its carrier, and often imposed upon us through life’s circumstances: a difficult work day, the tedium of chores, an illness or a loved one’s death.
As we face our daily trials, the Church invites us to gain a deeper perspective of them. In imitation of Christ, it asks us to exalt in our crosses, transforming them into ones of glory and love. But how?
Yield to the cross
In the play “Le Soulier de Satin,” Paul Claudel recounts the prayer of a Jesuit missionary who, after suffering shipwreck from pirates, is bound to his ship’s mask and left to the mercy of the ocean’s waters. Instead of being agitated by his perilous predicament, the dying priest thanks God, realizing his suffering closely binds him to Christ. He reflects: “I have given myself to God, and now the day of relaxation is come, and I can yield to these bonds which fasten me.”
At baptism, we too have given ourselves to God. There we received his yoke — cross — and are called to imitate his example. When confronted with difficulties, instead of resisting them, we too must yield to their constraints as did Claudel’s missionary. We do this by patiently accepting our challenges or trials as coming from God, placing ourselves in his hands, and by allowing God to simply carry us through them. In this way, our tedious days, sleepless nights, limitations or illnesses are means for union with God.
Look to Christ
The Church displays a crucifix on its altars and encourages each Christian to have a crucifix in his or her home. Why? Because the crucified Christ reminds us that he first saw and carried each sorrow we have or will ever experience. And that in the moments of his passion, he redeemed those instances for us, securing the graces we need to bear our crosses well. When struggling with the crosses that life’s daily circumstances present — whether it be a minor inconvenience or a heavy sorrow — we can find comfort that we have a faithful friend who sympathizes with us, who first carried our crosses and who shows us how to bear them. Hence, having a crucifix nearby or on our person helps us remember this. It strengthens us, encouraging us to unite our sufferings with Christ, and reassures us that Christ will be with us, bestowing his grace each step of the way.
Grow your love
“Suffering is above all an act of love,” wrote Catholic author Georges Bernanos, while Pope St. John Paul II preached that love is creative. Our faith challenges us to be creative in our love for God by offering up our daily crosses. In this way, our trials borne well increase our capacity to love. We do this by making an offering of them to God, either for a specific intention, or to be distributed as he wishes for the salvation of souls. St. Thérèse of Lisieux shows us how, teaching that anything can be gifted to God in love, including little inconveniences. For the saint, being splashed with dirty water, caring for an irritable nun or dying from tuberculosis all became beautiful offerings to God. We too can be creative in transforming our crosses into acts of love, giving Christ our grief, sleepless nights or unending pile of laundry. Our sufferings, then, are not wasted, but become offerings of love.
Thank God
The ancient world erroneously viewed suffering as a curse, a punishment for either personal or generational sins. Yet Christ crucified shows that there is a sanctifying nature to our crosses. This is difficult to recall, however, in the midst of trials, as often we wish to evade them. Though challenging, the saints call us to view our crosses as the means of our salvation. St. Philip Neri did this by cultivating the habit of thanking God in difficult moments — when things weren’t going his way. Since each difficulty is an invitation to grow in virtue and deepen our trust in God’s goodness, even when we are not able to specifically thank God for the jammed printer or grief we carry, we can imitate St. Philip Neri by thanking God for its sanctifying nature.
In this valley of tears, the cross is inevitable. Though our crosses ultimately cause our daily deaths, when accepted, they mold us to Christ and conform us more and more into his image and likeness. This is why the Church has never ceased preaching Christ crucified, for it knows that the power and glory of the cross are greater than any scandal which it may convey. The Church teaches us to suffer Christ’s cross with patience and acceptance, thereby demonstrating love for God and the power of his grace wrought in our lives. Our daily trials then are not meant to destroy us, but opportunities to grow in holiness. Viewed in this light, we more easily yield to our crosses and even exalt in them. After all, as Pope Benedict XVI said, “the cross of Christ is the supreme sign of God’s love for every man and woman.”
