Why?
The answer is to be found in the turning point of last week’s Gospel. The Apostles, under Peter’s inspiring faith, had discovered that Jesus was no ordinary man. He is the Son of God. Faith may be a gift from God but it is no insurance against misconception. Whilst Peter accepted Jesus to be Son of God, he perceived Him only beneath the light of glory. For a period of time, Israel was a religio-political entity, a theocratic nation where religion and politics were inseparable. So, Peter cannot not be faulted for thinking that the long-awaited Messiah, whom he had found in Jesus, would now rise to take His proper place in the establishment of a new Kingdom.
But, that was just a side of Jesus which He was more than ready to reveal. He brought Peter, James and John up Mount Tabor where He transfigured and manifested His glory to them. But, each time Christ revealed His splendour, He also warned them of His impending Passion. Right after Peter’s Confession, Jesus revealed the full extent of His Messiahship. Our fellowship with Him is our “followship”—we follow Him by carrying our Cross.
This Easter Vigil, we could not have baptism for obvious reasons. Soon, our few patiently waiting elect will be baptised under stringent social-distancing conditions. Hence, Peter’s experience might be a good reminder for our neophytes after their baptism. Our dear Peter, still groggy from his exalted status thought that being on top was the goal of everything. But Christ had to bring him down to see that the Cross is the glory. I suppose our elect may already sense the outline of the Cross since they have been denied baptism these few uncertain months.
The cost of following Christ must always include the Cross. This path is not something easily embraced. Like Peter, it is human to want to reshape the Cross to our liking. In the first reading, Jeremiah felt cheated because he was mocked, laughed at, and derided. In a sense, he had thought that his prominence as a prophet should render him some semblance of security. Far from it but ultimately, Jeremiah himself realised that despite his prophetic reluctance, there was a fire he could not put out—his heart wounded by the love of God could contain no other pleasures except that of the Cross.
What is this Cross we have to carry? One thing we do well is to externalise it. You can say that your sickness is a cross. Or maybe your spouse is THE Cross. You wake up and “Urrgh”, and the face is right in front of you and you are reminded how heavy the Cross is. Or, this pandemic is a scourge, a kind of suffering that we need to undergo. Anything and everything can be our Cross, but the greatest Cross is ourselves and how we carry ourselves through life. It is difficult as we heard in the 2nd Reading where Paul readies us with the advice not to conform ourselves to the standards of the world. When our principles are based on Christ, then the Cross, be it in any shape or form, will be our constant companion.
Even then, we are all lovers—wounded lovers like Jeremiah. Like him, we will definitely do better if we begin to realise that the love of God is more demanding than what we are ready to embrace and that the road to eternity passes through the valley of mortality beginning with death from self-denial or mortification before ending with physical death. If this pandemic should teach us anything, it is this: there is a no inoculation against death much less a vaccine against suffering. If you want to follow Him, the only available option is to take up your Cross. As Han Urs Balthasar reminds us: “It is to the Cross that the Christian is challenged to follow his Master: no path of redemption can make a detour around it”.
Maybe the multiverse of DCU and MCU are not so different after all. A person becomes a hero or heroine once he or she has endured sacrifice and suffering before rising. Spiderman, death of his uncle. Thor, banishment from Asgard. Superman, destruction of Krypton. The Apostles’ Creed states that the Lord Himself descended into hell before ascending into heaven.
In a world that craves salute, stardom and sycophancy, we need reminders that sacrifice, sorrow and suffering are not destructive experiences to be denied, decried or defied. Instead, in the Cross of Christ, one locates the humility of sacrifice, sorrow and suffering. They converge into something which is pivotal to man’s greatest search, that is, his longing for meaning. As Nietzsche reminds us, “To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering”. So, if you want to follow Him, take up your Cross. It is necessary because there is no salvation of the soul, nor hope of eternal life, except in the Cross. Embracing it might feel like a losing proposition at the start but in the end, you will never lose out. St Paul said, “Far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ”. Thus, to be a hero or heroine is to be burnished on the wood of the Cross—of sacrifice, sorrow and suffering. Fear not but trust Him for He has conquered Hades.
