The Cross We Venerate, the Cross We Carry, the Cross That Saves
Fr. Geoff Harvey reflects on three dimensions of the cross: the cross we venerate as the sign of our salvation, the cross we carry in our daily lives, and the cross that saves through Christ's self-offering for the world. A timely encouragement for the Lenten journey, preached at The Good Shepherd Orthodox Church.
Transcript
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Today, on the Sunday of the Holy Cross, we are halfway through Great Lent. The Church brings before us the precious and life-giving cross of our Lord. It reminds me of my army days — trudging through the bush with all your equipment, and when you get a break, everyone heads for the trees because there is a bit of shade. You don't want to sit down in the sun. It is like that with the cross. Halfway through our difficult journey through Great Lent, we find a tree — but it is the holy tree, the sacred tree on which Christ was crucified. This is to give us a breather and some refreshment on our journey towards Pascha.
This Sunday also commemorates the finding of the cross by the Empress Helena in the fourth century, so that the holy cross might be revealed and venerated by the faithful. From that time on, the cross has held a very special place in the life of the Church. It is not a hidden symbol, but the actual sign of our salvation.
Today I want to look at the cross under three headings — I always like to have three points. The cross we venerate, the cross we carry, and the cross that saves.
The Cross We Venerate
Our Lord says in the Gospel: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." The cross is not merely something that happened to our Lord long ago in Jerusalem. It is a pattern — the pattern of our life in him. If we are going to follow him, the cross is the pattern of our life. It is not only an event; it is a way.
In my preparation for this sermon I was reading Archimandrite Zacharias's The Eternal Today, and a phrase leapt out at me that I had never considered before. He writes that the cross of Christ is the commandment that Jesus received from the Father — to sacrifice his life for the salvation of the world. I had never thought of it as a commandment from God the Father to the Son, to go and be crucified. It was a new thought. He came to fulfil that commandment, to offer his life for the salvation of the world, and in doing so he revealed his love to us and reconciled us with our heavenly Father.
When we hear the word "cross," we probably think of suffering. If you have ever seen The Passion of the Christ — I was literally shaking in the cinema. There is so much suffering. The cross is a place of pain, of injustice, of humiliation. But on the cross, Jesus — the only person without sin — stretched out his hands for the life of the world. The cross revealed the full weight of human sin, but at the same time it reveals God's unlimited love for us. What seemed to be defeat became victory. What looked like shame became glory. What appeared to be death became the destruction of death. Through the cross, Christ trampled down death by death. The cross became the key that opens paradise.
Today's Epistle reminds us that Jesus, who was lifted up on the cross, is also our great High Priest. Christ has passed through the heavens, yet he remains close to us, for he knows our weakness. He was tested just as we are, yet without sin. Because of this, we are invited to draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, knowing that Jesus — the same Jesus who stretched out his hands on the cross — prays for us and loves us. He does not offer the sacrifice of someone else. He offers himself for the life of the world.
As St. John Chrysostom reminds us, the cross is the trophy against the demons, the weapon against sin, and the victory of Christ over death. That is why we never hide the cross. That is why it stands at the top of the iconostasis, why it is on the wall, why it is everywhere. We all wear crosses. We venerate it. We kiss it. We lift it high. And we sing, as we have just done: Before your cross we bow down in worship, O Master, and your holy resurrection we glorify.
You can see why we venerate it. It is such a special thing for us as Christians.
The Cross We Carry
The Church does not only give us a cross to admire and venerate. She gives us a cross to carry. Our cross — whether small or great — is permitted by the wise sovereignty of God in this passing life. It is exactly the cross we need, because it frees us from the attachments that prevent us from following Christ with a full and free heart.
Each of us has a cross. For some it is illness. For others it is loneliness, family struggles, financial burdens, or a hidden battle against passions and temptations. As St. Isaac the Syrian writes: "The way of God is a daily cross, and no one has ever ascended to heaven by comfort." Jesus did not say, "Take up your cushion and follow me." He said, "Take up your cross and follow me." It is through this daily cross that the grace of God quietly works within us, shaping our hearts to become more like Christ.
It is important to say that carrying our cross does not mean allowing others to mistreat, abuse, or harm us. Christ calls us to bear suffering with faith and patience when it comes from the providence of God — but he does not command us to submit to injustice or cruelty. The cross is never a justification for violence, manipulation, or the destruction of another person's dignity. Sometimes faithfulness to Christ means seeking help, setting boundaries, and protecting the life and dignity that God has given us. The cross we carry is the struggle to remain faithful, humble, forgiving, and truthful — not the acceptance of abuse.
But it can be painful. I was speaking with Father Patrick Curley — some of you may know him. He is an old Anglican priest I have known for many years, now known as Father Moses in the Coptic Church. You know how some people say God has a wonderful plan for your life, and they usually mean you will get rich, get a nice house, a good car, a comfortable life. Father Patrick said to me: "A wonderful plan for my life was leukaemia." I asked him how that could be a wonderful plan. He said: "Because it pushed me straight into the arms of Jesus." Sometimes we need that kind of thing to get our attention and bring us back to him. He was serving God and serving Christ, but had become caught up in the demands and pressures of life and had drifted somewhat. The illness, he said, pushed him straight into the arms of Jesus.
Lent itself is a small participation in the cross. The fasting, the prayer, the forgiveness, the self-denial, the almsgiving — these are not punishments. They are training in love. To take up our cross means to say, "Not my will, but yours be done, Lord." It means forgiving when we would rather resent. It means remaining faithful when we are tired. It means loving when love costs us something. We carry our cross not only by believing in it, but by crucifying our pride, our passions, and our selfishness.
The Cross That Saves
The cross teaches us that love always involves sacrifice. There is no resurrection without Golgotha. There is no Pascha without the cross. That is why the Church lifts up the cross today — to strengthen us, so that we do not lose heart on our journey to Pascha, because the cross is never separated from the resurrection.
You will notice that when you kiss the cross, it is not a bare cross — it has flowers. When we carry the flowered cross around the church, it is surrounded by flowers, because it is through the cross that we arrive at the resurrection. The cross is always reminding us: this is the only way there.
This is the paradox of our faith. Christ is not a defeated victim on the cross. He is the King of glory, reigning from the cross. Strength is revealed in weakness. Life comes through death. Joy is born from sorrow.
As we continue our journey through Great Lent, let us ask ourselves: what must I crucify in my life? Is it pride? Anger? Judging others? Attachment to comfort? The cross calls us to nail our passions to it, so that we may be truly free. And when the cross feels heavy, let us remember that we are not carrying it alone. Jesus is walking with us.
Today we bow before the cross — not in despair, but in hope. Beyond the cross shines the light of the empty tomb. Beyond the struggle of Lent awaits the joy of Pascha. Today we sing: O Lord, save your people and bless your inheritance, granting your people victory over all their enemies, and by the power of the cross, preserving your kingdom.
So let us press on through the rest of Lent. Do not give up. Hold on to the cross with faith. Continue to forgive, continue to fast, continue to pray, and continue to love more deeply.
At the end of the service today, we will come forward to venerate the precious and life-giving cross as we bow and kiss it. It is an opportunity to lay our burdens on the cross — the struggles of our lives, the sins for which we seek forgiveness. And to remember that the cross is not the end of the story. The cross leads to resurrection. The cross opens the way to eternal life.
Therefore, with faith and hope, we bow before the precious and life-giving cross of Christ. For through the cross — joy, real joy, the only joy — comes to the world and comes to us.
Now to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, be ascribed all majesty, dominion, and praise, now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen.
