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Matthew 16:21-27
21From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. 22And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” 23But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
24Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 25For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. 26For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life? 27“For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.
In the innocence of childhood, many of us sang the little nursery rhyme:
Ring around the rosy,
Pocketful of posies.
Ashes, ashes.
We all fall down!
Among those who care about these things, perhaps there will always be disagreement as to the nursery rhyme’s origin. Some believe it originated as a way to sneak dancing around the strict anti-dance sentiments of our Puritan ancestors. Those who take this view claim that the “all fall down” refers to a curtsey – what one would do at the end of a dance. A more common thought is that the nursery rhyme’s origins reach further back to the time of the bubonic plague – a hideous disease (also known as the Black Plague) which swept through Europe in the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries. Immense suffering. Tremendous loss of life.
The bubonic plague’s first symptoms were usually big reddish marks erupting on the skin – the welt is known as a bubo (byū-bō). It was believed that evil diseases came from “evil airs.” A protection from the evil airs was thought to be helped by surrounding oneself with something sweet-smelling such as a bouquet (also known as a posy) of flowers. Most of us learned the ashes version of the rhyme, but instead of ashes, the British version has us singing: a-tishoo!, a-tishoo!. Sounds like a sneeze. Then all fall down. So, the British version of this nursery rhyme goes like this:
Ring a-ring o’ roses,
A pocketful of posies.
a-tishoo!, a-tishoo!.
We all fall down.
If the mass terrible deaths from the bubonic plague is what is being remembered and memorialized in the simple little nursery rhyme, what a strange image it is to think of little children in their innocence holding hands in a circle, singing the simple nursery rhyme as they dance around the circle, and then all falling down. A bizarre image. But, so is the image of a cross. Often worn as beautifully crafted jewelry, properly matched and coordinated with the day’s attire.
A nursery rhyme. So innocent. So playful. And so well known. Passed from generation to generation. But possibly carrying with it a dark memory of a traumatic time swallowed up by a mass loss of innocence. And the cross. Sometimes equated as a tool of execution with the electric chair of our day, but yet, so different. When our government chooses to kill its citizens, methods considered the most humane are usually chosen. Quick. And often private. Behind many locked doors. But the cross? Sticking a knife into Jesus’ heart would have been much quicker and much more efficient. That could have been their version of our electric chair. But the method they used was different – on purpose different. Slow torture in the view of as many people as possible. Make it as horrific as possible. Jewelry in the form of an electric chair would not even come close to conveying the same intended message as a cross. But we wear them. There are many people who contemplate the meaning and message of the cross. There are many who don’t. But, like the nursery rhyme sung on playgrounds around the world, the cross carrying with it a dark memory, calling to us from over the distances of time. Remember. Remember.
Then we read words spoken by Jesus: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” There is that cross again. We hear the words while removed by nearly two thousand years. What about those who were hearing it from Jesus himself? They knew. Certainly they had seen crosses and knew how they were used. Seems it would have given each of them the creeps. Not the most inviting of images to be found on the job description for which we are contemplating applying. But, here it is, right in the heart of one of the Gospels. We read it moments ago in the Gospel of Matthew. But just in case we choose to miss it there, the same words are repeated in the Gospel of Mark. And then repeated again in the Gospel of Luke. Take notice of Jesus’ words. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” The simplest avoidance of those words is to assign the intended recipients of the words to Jesus’ disciples – those gathered around him that day. Tradition has it that almost all of Jesus’ disciples were martyred. Even Peter. Isn’t it traditionally thought that Peter was crucified upside-down on a cross? Jesus said to them: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Presbyterians elevate the importance of education, so many of us have read the commentaries. We all know better. Jesus was not just talking to the disciples who were with him on that day so many centuries ago. Those words encompass a larger circle than Jesus’ closest disciples. Okay. Maybe even us. The concept of the “cross” has perhaps evolved a bit over time. Many of us are not strict literalists. We know that we are not to understand it as literal crosses. That would be both bizarre and morbid. But, some do take it literally. Every so often we will see the picture in the newspaper of someone taking a trek across the country literally carrying a full sized cross. The disciple who came through Palmer carrying a cross a few years ago did have a bit of a modern addition: a little wheel was attached to the base of his cross.
“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Maybe Jesus did even have us in mind. Perhaps the cross is wrapped up in our callings. The cross being a burden we have to carry? The cross being all those things we have to give up in our quest to be faithful? The cross being the enduring of all the garbage people dish out at us when we seek to be faithful to Christ? We all can name those things which can bring suffering – how many of us have even used the phrase “carrying my cross” in reference to physical pain or illness? In reference to an obstinate co-worker? In reference to the melt-down of a relationship? In reference to a grief? In the carrying of the burden of guilt or shame? Maybe even the being born into a difficult life situation or being born with a physical challenge?
Closer. Might all those be closer? Closer to the cross? Or, maybe, that is as close as many of us are willing to allow ourselves to the cross which our Lord Jesus the Christ is asking us to carry.
A few weeks ago I received a phone call at the church – Luz Smeenk is my witness as I received the phone call while in her office and she saw my reaction to it – the phone call was from a salesman wanting to introduce me to an exciting program for the men in our church. The program would certainly excite the men in our church, and he was very excited to tell me all about it. I listened. He was very excited. And he assured me that I would be excited as well. And the men in our congregation would certainly be excited. It would bring excitement to many different dimensions of our congregation’s program. He was very excited to tell me all about the program. After the conversation, instead of the great promised excitement, I felt a deep sadness. Is that what being a follower of our Lord Jesus Christ is all about? Being excited? Lurking in the background of my thoughts was that very inconvenient cross. Did Jesus even use the word exciting? Perhaps that word was lost in the translation of my Bible. But Jesus did say something about taking up one’s cross.
If we believe that faith is all about being excited, and if, as the faithful, we are to wear big smiles all the time, the reality of our faith will most likely be held down to the lowest common denominator. The cross Jesus spoke of cannot only be about the inconveniences we have to experience and the sacrifices we have to make as we put our money into the offering plate or as we volunteer to be on a committee or as we try to understand the completenesses of our callings as followers of the Christ. It has much more to do with us – with our egos – with our hidden insecurities – with the griefs and wept tears over the brokennesses we hide from everyone around us – the deep griefs and the secret tears we even want to hide from ourselves. Everyone else gets it. Why am I tormented with dark struggles of the soul? Why is it that God seems to be blessing everyone else, but still, my soul is lonely – even longing for God – but yet, seemingly passed over when faith blessings were passed out to all the others? Is my faith not strong enough? Was I raised wrong? Was I just wired wrong? Why was I stuck with the idiosyncrasies of personality I ended up with? But, surprise, surprise! I wonder if that the salesman who called me a couple weeks ago was feeling so excited on his drive home from work. If he was, he certainly would be unique – an exception. But my sense was that underneath every one of his pronouncements of excitement was a deeper unexpressed struggle.
So, is all that bad news? Absolutely not. Absolutely not! Our Lord Jesus the Christ is not telling us to pick up somebody else’s cross. Our Lord Jesus the Christ is not telling us to go out and take on some church calling which makes us sacrifice and struggle and hurt. The cross is not something you go to your pastor to receive (or maybe you do). The cross is not some inconvenient ministry or mission which brings hardship to us or our families. The cross is you. The cross is me. The cross is the loss of innocence within ourselves over which we deeply grieve. The cross is your own brokenness – and for me, my brokenness. It is when we can finally let go of those silly supposed images of perfect faith and of being a perfect Christian – images we inflict ourselves with – and when we give all that garbage to God, it is then that we finally, finally pick up our crosses.
Lonely and deluded is the pastor who believes the heresy that he or she is called to be a model of faith for the people of his or her congregation to follow. Lonely and deluded is the Christian who believes the heresy that to be a man or woman of faith requires him or her to be a model of perfection, worthy to have articles in modern Christian magazines written about him, written about her. If that is true for you, get over it. Just get over it.
Accept the gift of the cross. Accept the gift that even our Lord Jesus Christ was broken on a cross. And we – are we deluded into thinking that we cannot bring our brokenness to Christ? To the Church?
Rich will be the faith of the congregation who lets go of all of those pretensions. To not embrace our crosses is only to turn our backs on our Lord. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” May our journey as a community of faith be deep – may it be rich – may it be tender – and may we believe and receive and know the words of our Lord: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) Amen.
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