The feast of the Triumph of the Cross became prominently observed in the Western Church only in the 7th century. In case you’re interested, prior to the cross becoming our universal symbol, Christians used the symbol of fish because the Greek word for fish (ἰχθύς, capitalised ΙΧΘΥΣ) stood for the acronym: Ἰησοῦς Χριστός, Θεοῦ Υἱός, Σωτήρ. Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour. Now, let us get back to our subject matter, the cross. In the 4th century, St Helena the Empress Mother of Constantine was credited as one who led in the discovery of the Cross of Christ. It was taken away as a war trophy by the Persians in the AD614 and 14 years later Emperor Heraclius returned part of what was retrieved to Jerusalem.The cross is a powerful symbol for Christianity and yet Catholics and Protestants approach this symbol differently. The usual thing is to look at it and say that Catholics tend to emphasise Christ's death on the cross (it explains why we have the body – called the Corpus) whereas Protestants emphasise Christ as risen (it explains why they have an empty cross). Christ on the cross reminds us of the sacrifice he made whereas the empty cross points to the power of Christ over death. Furthermore, Catholics are supposedly “worshippers” of Mary and the Saints, therefore, the Protestants will try to avoid “graven images” (read = statues).
But beyond the Protestant “aversion” to idolatry, the first reading may actually support the Catholic approach to this powerful symbol and it is connected with the Eucharist we celebrate. St John Damascus writes that the serpent was raised up on a piece of wood like a “standard” and those who look at it with faith are cured of the serpent’s bite. Therefore, Christ dead on the cross is the source of life for those who look at him. We see Christ hanging on the cross with blood and water flowing from his side—the fount of sacramental life in the Church because water symbolises baptism to wash away sin and blood symbolises the Eucharist that gives life.
That Moses raised the serpent standard in the first reading is being translated into the Mass we celebrate. In Mediæval times, there arose the practice of “ocular communion”. Ocular has something to do with the eyes; with what is visual. This spiritual practice came about because people were simply “more aware” of their unworthiness to receive the Lord. At that time, the frequency with which we receive communion would have been unknown to them. The practice of “frequent communion” only started in 1905.
So, in Mediæval times, people would come to Mass and wait for the consecration when the host would be raised and looking upon the elevated host, they would profess silently like St Thomas, otherwise known as the Doubter: “My Lord and my God”. They did likewise with the chalice raised. After that, they would go in search of another Mass where the consecration was about to take place. The triple bells we hear let people know that Christ will be raised up and that to look up and look at it is to look at the Saviour for redemption. Today we may be a few hundred years removed from this practice and may thus call it a superstition. Since the Mediæval or Middle Ages is commonly known as the Dark Ages, we associate that period with barbarism and superstition. But, it cannot be disputed that such a practice arose because of a firm belief in Sacred Scripture, a deep desire for salvation and a trust in the power of God.
In some ways, we are no different. We wear the cross like an ornament or tattoo the cross as an embellishment. I saw a girl the other day who had a rosary tattooed on her ankle and leading to her foot was the cross. I haven’t a clue what that symbolised for her but for us, the cross is really a symbol of salvation because it is a symbol of love’s triumph over hatred. On Friday, a parishioner came to see me. She comes to Mass daily. She has been robbed many times by snatch thieves. Still, she faithfully attends daily Mass by walking from her home down the road to church. So, on Friday when she came, after yet another robbery attempt (she was blue and black on the face because she had struggled with them and had managed to ward them off) I offered to bless her. Yes, there is a blessing for victims of crime or oppression. There was a sense of powerlessness and frustration. I was utterly disgusted by the incidents of her being robbed. As I was opening the Book of Blessings, I was also letting out my frustrations. I said, “Let’s pray that those thieves (I used a stronger than the phrase “those thieves”) will meet with a bad accident that they be so badly hurt but do not die. They should suffer”. When we got to the page, we collected ourselves and I started to pray: “Lord, your wicked Son ...”. She flinched and instinctively I knew I had committed a Freudian slip because the prayer actually read: “Lord, your own Son was delivered into the hands of the wicked, yet he prayed for his persecutors”. I was that consumed by hatred that it came out through the prayers. When you hate so much, it is bound to come out somewhere and somehow.
But, in the cross, there was no hate even if it were an instrument of hate. On the cross, Christ not only preached love but he practised love till the end that he cried out from the cross: “Father, forgive them”. The 2nd Reading expresses this as “self-emptying”—a Kenosis of his divinity so that we might be saved. Today, more than ever, we need men and women of the cross; Christians of the Kenosis—self-emptying so that others might have life. Kenosis will always involve dying and suffering. In order for love to triumph there will be the cross as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta says, “Suffering is a sign that we have come so close to Jesus on the cross that He can kiss us and that He can show that He is in love with us by giving us an opportunity to share in His passion”.
It is so relevant for us all. Given the fearful, oppressive and tense climate we have today, it is really easy to give in to anger, hatred and despair especially when there is this naked display of aggression but the cross is a powerful symbol of victory over evil; of love over hatred. And as we continue with the celebration of the Eucharist, we remember that Christ had to be lifted up so that we may have the strength to embrace His life. Let the cross we wear or sign on ourselves not remain a mere symbol but truly become the outward sign of who we really are: Followers of Christ, Prisoners of Love and not of Hate.
