The Cross

I had crosses on my mind last week. They seemed to pop up everywhere. I noticed many small, white and frail ones surrounding church yards standing in support of the sanctity of life. I have several at home. Some are jewelry. Others are home decor. Of course there were several at church. A few designs transformed the crosses from a simple two piece construction to a bedazzled work of art.

Last week in class we studied the crucifiction of Christ. What an eyeopener! There is nothing like focusing on a beaten, shredded and mocked man dragging a 100lb rough hewn crossbeam to his death. There is nothing like the dull thud of square nails penetrating delicate flesh, the echo of scornful voices challenging him to come down, the mournful sobs of courageous women and the stifled whispers of a suffocating man to make a person reconsider the cross.

We should never allow the cross to become something cute or delicate. Never forget the price or for whom it was paid.