Cross Talk

1 Corinthians 1:18-24

Holy Cross Day, September 14, 2025

Holy Trinity Cathedral

“Cross-talk”

There is so much hate in the world today.  There is so much suffering.  There is so much death.  So why would we, as Christians, have chosen the central symbol of our faith to be the cross?  Why do we need to talk about it?

Perhaps our familiarity and frequent use obscures memory and meaning.  As a jeweled object or a church carving, we elevate it in art and beauty. But the cross was an ugly thing originally.  The Romans used the cross as an instrument of condemnation, torture, and death.  Prisoners who had offended against the state were fastened to its wooden crosspiece with nails and hanged until dead.  This means of public execution spoke to all who witnessed of the empire’s ability to crush its opponents.  Pontius Pilate sentenced Jesus to death on the cross as a seditious criminal. It was a scandalous end to the ministry of the one who proclaimed the kingdom of God. The fact that the Church retains this shocking symbol, even when not shown as a crucifix with a dying man on it, points to its importance.  If we go beyond understanding the cross as an object of protection, comfort, or adornment, we face its foolishness. 

The early Christians certainly struggled with the message about the cross.  How could a human meet such an end and still be the Son of God?  Jewish followers found it a barrier to accepting him as the Messiah.  Greek converts failed to see the power of God’s wisdom in how the Christ was revealed.  The apostle Paul, as he writes to the Church, acknowledges that God’s ways seem like foolishness to us.  But the ultimate foolishness of God is in loving creation and sending us his Son.  Jesus’ sacrifice is not the way that worldly powers would show themselves.  The Almighty’s purpose is to forgive, not to force.  The cross reminds us of our calling to love likewise.

During the Second World War, both the Allied and the German forces conducted bombing raids over industrialized targets.  After the Battle of Britain, a blitz was carried out against the City of Coventry in England.  The most intense was the night of November 14, 1940, when St. Michael’s Cathedral was destroyed.  Incendiary bombs ignited the wooden roof of the 14^th century building and set it ablaze.  By morning, only the bell-tower remained standing.  The main body of the cathedral was reduced to blackened stones.  In the middle of the sanctuary, two of the scorched timbers from the roof had fallen in the shape of a cross near the central aisle.  And nearby, three medieval nails had melded into a cross.  The Provost of the cathedral, Richard Howard, bound the two pieces of wood and set them upright.  Using a piece of charcoal, he wrote the words “Father, forgive” behind the high altar.  The community, from that time, decided not to seek revenge but reconciliation with all who had inflicted damage on the church.  The ruined site remained sacred ground, and a new cathedral rose next to it to carry out this ministry of the cross.

I visited the rebuilt Coventry Cathedral some years ago on a Friday.  That day each week a eucharist of reconciliation is celebrated in the grounds of the old church.  My group from Canada joined with a group of pilgrims from Germany in front of that old stone altar with the words “Father, forgive” inscribed on the stone.  Together we commemorated the words of Jesus at his last supper as he shared bread and wine with his followers.  “This is my body”.  “This is my blood”.  Like Scripture tells us, as often as we do this, we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. In spite of the hate and hurt of so many years of war and distrust, the cross draws people together.

The power and wisdom of God, operating through Jesus, is at cross-purposes to the world.  Sometimes even to the institution of the Church.  It is so easy to be led astray into what we want, rather than what God wants.  But to preach triumphalism-that might is right and God will crush all the enemies of Christians- goes against the message of the cross.  So does retributive justice.  No one gets what they deserve because none of us deserve God’s mercy.  And yet our Father forgives.  But for those who would like to think religion is a safety net, protecting the devout: there is no such thing as safe religion.  The very act of trusting in the cross leads us into more uncomfortable, even dangerous places in this life.  Christians are called to face the cross.  Not as a talisman against the evils of life, but as a challenge to overcome them with God’s help.

Are we okay with this?  It takes courage to move towards embracing a way of life that most of those around us reject.  To not return evil for evil.  To keep trying to forgive even when what is dear has been taken from us.  To try to believe in a God that lays down divine power in order to be human and know the fullness of our weakness and fear.  And to hope in the One who was nailed to a cross.  The image of a dying man, crucified for our sins, is too graphic for many to carry as a daily reminder.  But the simple form of the cross speaks equally of the painful love of God.  It was an object of death, and yet it is emptied of its power.  Death does not have a hold over us because death could not hold onto our Lord.  We preach Christ crucified: cross-talk to our troubled world. Amen.