Why Do We Exult in the Cross?
/This Sunday, Catholics celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. I’m not sure if this feast is unique to us or if other Christians celebrate it too, but that’s what some of us are praying with this Sunday. Before I even looked at the readings, the first question in me was: why do we exalt in the cross? Yes, we use the cross as a symbol of our faith, but if you really stop and think about it, the cross is the means by which people were publicly executed. We still have the death penalty in twenty-seven states in the US, and there’s so much injustice and violence in this practice that it’s not only not a public good, but it’s an evil in our society. Why on earth would we exalt that?
Also, the cross reminds us of Christ’s suffering. I don’t know about you, but when I’m in the midst of my own pain, my first reaction is not to praise, reverence, or uplift it. I usually wish it away, and then I try to deal with it as best as I can. Why would I rejoice in it?
So, let’s look at our readings and see if the Spirit will answer my question about the “why” of this feast. In the Second Reading from the Letter to the Philippians, we have a canticle that we pray regularly in the Divine Office. It’s a song of praise for Christ’s self-emptying and God’s lifting him up. Instead of exulting in himself, he takes the lowest form of human existence possible – an enslaved person. He humbled himself even to the point of experiencing death. Because of this, we’re told, God greatly exalted him. In this reading, the cross itself is not exalted, but Christ is. In his act of self-emptying on the cross, Christ was lifted up. Even though Christ died, death did not triumph. So, maybe ironically, Christ’s death on a cross became part of his new life.
In our Gospel, we are reassured with another passage that’s very familiar to many of us: “For God so loved the world that God gave God’s only son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” Again, Christ experienced death, but that was not the end. And his death was not about destruction; it was about salvation.
This might feel abstract, but it’s deeply relevant to our lives as it relates to our own experiences of suffering and our questions about it (well, my questions about it anyway). Does our suffering have meaning? Is there any redemption in suffering? Where is God when we suffer?
I think this feast helps us to resolve these questions, or, at least, invites us to wrestle with them. As we look at Christ’s suffering, we can see that, yes, there is redemption in suffering because death is not the last word. In our dying, like Christ’s dying, God lifts us up to new life too. I don’t just mean our departure from this earth, but rather the little deaths we experience all through our lives. We grow through each hardship we endure, and God is close with us always and especially when we’re hurting.
This puts me in mind of someone I accompanied on retreat a long time ago. She shared an experience of deep suffering, a traumatic loss she had had some years before. It was the worst experience of her life, but she said, surprisingly, that was also the closest to God that she had ever felt. God didn’t cause that loss, but God was deeply with her in every moment of her heartbreak. As we processed this past experience, she began to notice how God had been with her since then and how God was with her in that very moment too. That retreat became a powerful experience of resurrection for her. In her own way, she did reverence that encounter with God in her suffering, even while she honored her own grief. It’s not that she was happy about the loss — not at all – but she was grateful for how close God was in that loss and ever since then too.
She taught me a lot about my own hard experiences. Yes, I might wish things were different, and I usually do wish that, but wishing doesn’t make it so. Even Jesus had a moment in Gethsemane when he wished, for a moment, that this cup of sorrow might pass him by. But no. His journey was to the cross. That was reality. However, real thought it was, it was not the end of the story. The movement from death to life is something that I experience over and over, and the more I experience it, the more I can trust the movement. It’s not an easy trust for me, though, because each experience is unique. Over and over again I have to live into the suffering and hope for the new life that is coming. Almost never do I exult in it! But I wonder if I can allow it to draw me closer to God.
The call I notice as I wrestle with the why of this feast is to look for God in my own suffering, and also to be willing to enter into others’ suffering. I don’t know about you, but whenever I’m present, really present, in love and compassion to someone who’s hurting, I have a felt sense of redemption, of meaning in suffering. I can’t always see that in my own heartaches, but when I’m present to someone else, I feel God’s tender care for them. We are never alone, and when we draw near each other, we know that we are profoundly loved. We are a communal people, and when we are together on the cross, we know God’s love, and we don’t remain on the cross. We rise together too.
The reality of life is deep suffering and soaring joy, and lots of ups and downs and annoyances and subtle contentments and neutral moments in between. The Feast of the Exultation of the Cross invites us to look for God in the movement from death to life that happens on repeat throughout our lives. Maybe as we move forward, we recognize God’s tender care for each one of us and trust that God is always leading us toward God’s own self.
For Reflection:
What does it mean to you to exult in the cross?
What are some of the crosses you’ve experienced in life, or something that you’re going through right now? How is God with you in that experience?
Have you ever accompanied someone else in their suffering? What was that like for you? How was God in that experience?
Maybe you could take some quiet time and see what God has to say to you.
By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP
Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She enjoys music, meaningful conversations, and dancing.