Text: Mark 8:34-35
Theme: “The Feast of the Holy Cross”
The 15th Sunday After Pentecost
September 13, 2009
St. Andrew Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau
+In the Name of Jesus+
He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel,* will save it.
For most folks, tomorrow, September 14th, 2009, will pass by with little notice. It’s just another Monday. For many Christians throughout the world, however, tomorrow – September 14th – will be observed as The Feast of the Holy Cross (or Holy Cross Day). I’d suspect that 99.9% of you didn’t even know that. The occasion doesn’t show up on any Presbyterian calendar that I know of. There’s nothing about it in the St. Andrew bulletin, in eNews, the Shield, or the Fall brochure. It is probably considered a bit too “Roman Catholic” for our Protestant sensibilities!
At any rate, Holy Cross Day does mark the anniversary of the dedication of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the year 335 which, if my math is correct, happened one thousand six hundred and seventy four years ago. The actual consecration of the church was on September 13th, but it turned out to be a two day feast which included September 14th. Nine years prior to 335, in 326, the actual cross of Christ was said to have been discovered by Helena, the mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine, while on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was then built at the site of the the discovery of the cross. When the church was dedicated nine years later, a portion of the cross was placed inside the church. September 14th, the second day of the festival was, supposedly, the day when that portion was brought into the church to be viewed and venerated by the faithful. All of this might strike our modern minds as being a classic example of why history belongs on the history channel. Grab the remote!
But it’s not easy to “leave” history or “change the channel” on it. Many of my father’s generation remember what they were doing on the day, in November of 1963, when JFK was assassinated. My dad was out hunting when he got the news. I faintly remember my mother crying when RFK was assassinated by Sirhan Sirhan in Los Angeles in 1968. For my generation, I remember quite well that day in September of 2001 when I was on Ryan Road taking my stepson to grade school. The news on the radio reported that a small plane had crashed into one of the twin towers at the World Trade Center in New York City. Only five minutes later, we learned that it was no accident. That event, 9-11, now a part of our history, was celebrated with some civic ritual this past week. Earlier this month, at the Texas Judiciary Commission annual breakfast, I was privileged to listen to Lt. Col. Brian Birdwell who survived the 9-11 attack on the Pentagon. He was actually in the men’s room across the hall. His secretaries were killed. He had third degree burns over sixty percent of his body. He lived through the attack and his recovery which involved the use of sterile larvae and included thirty nine surgeries.
Yes, things happen in this world of ours. Historians chronicle them. History professors teach them. They become part of history. At times, certain historical events are revisited in order to add a new chapter to the overall story. One lesser known revisiting of history happened last week when prosecutors in the state of Virginia asked a state court to set a date for the execution of John Allen Muhammad; Muhammad was convicted in a series of sniper-style shootings that terrorized the Washington area in 2002.
The history of executions is a story in itself. There were Roman crucifixions and now there are lethal injections in Huntsville, Texas – with chopping blocks, firing squads, nooses, gas chambers, and electric chairs at points in between. We wear a cross around our neck as jewelry. We don’t wear an electric chair. What’s the difference? They’re both implements of execution!
But how dare we call an implement of execution – for example, the cross -- holy! An implement of execution produces death. The Bible declares that the “wages of sin is death.” Shouldn’t we call it “Sinful Cross Day” instead?
It depends on how you define holy. Holy can be defined as a state of being – in this case, a sinless state of being. To be holy is to be without sin. But holy can also be defined as a state of ownership or belonging. It it’s holy, then it belongs to the Lord. If it doesn’t belong to the Lord, then it’s not holy. Our God is way more than just awesome. Our God is holy – as we sang it in church this morning: “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, though the eye made blind by sin Thy glory may not see.”
We’ve been talking about history. What about the history of Christian sermons? That goes back to the book of Acts. Someone once told me that “Ninety five percent of all Christian sermons can be summed up in one sentence: ‘May I suggest that you be better people.’” Now, there is something to be said for the power of suggestion. I mean, it’s better than undergoing some spiritual version of waterboarding! The power of suggestion isn’t criminal, violent, or forceful. The power of suggestion, for instance, figures prominently in recovery from alcoholism and/or chemical dependency. The 12-step program is not a demanded program of recovery; it is a “suggested” program of recovery. As AA members say, “If you don’t like our suggested program, we’ll be glad to refund your misery!”
But what if we’re just plain sick and tired of even suggestions? The advertisements – on TV, radio, and computer – blast us with them every single day. For that matter, what if we honestly, if truth indeed be told, don’t even want to be better people? I seriously wonder if I want to be a “better person” when I’m waiting at the stoplight after the light has long since turned green and the person in front of me is still stopped with the driver yakking on his or her cell phone!
Here’s another angle on history. History, one might argue, is in large part a story of man’s inhumanity to man. If you can’t beat it, join it! What if, for a change, we choose to quit beating ourselves over the head about being better? As the saying goes: “Don’t get mad; get even.” What if we think that we’ve been Mr. or Mrs. Goody-two-shoes for long enough, and it’s about time – in the interests of fairness -- for somebody else to take their turn? What if we think that everyone else is getting their piece of the pie, with whipped cream on top, and all we get are the crumbs and the dirty dishes? What do we do when no one seems to care about our problems, our history, the stories of our lives? Do we simply come crawling back to church, reluctantly, only to hear another message suggesting that we be better people? For crying out loud, I’d rather sleep in!
If the Gospel of Jesus Christ is only a “suggestion” that I try to be a better person, then I want nothing to do with it. Count me out. I’m not down for that. Quite frankly, I’d rather go back to school, probably law school, pass the bar, and start billing clients out at three hundred dollars an hour only to play golf on Sunday mornings.
But the Gospel of Jesus Christ – thanks be to God – is not a suggestion. It is a proclamation! And at the heart and core of that proclamation is the holy cross of Jesus Christ. Martin Luther went so far as to say that “The cross alone is our theology.” Round about Easter, I often hear preachers talk about being “Easter people”. They do this year in and year out. The implication, among other things, is that we’re to be happy and joyful – in other words, better people. But were the first Christians “Easter people”? There’s no way. They were scared out of their wits! But okay, I’ll give it my best shot to be an “Easter person” -- as long as we get a few facts straight. First, there would never have been an Easter without a Good Friday. Secondly, there wouldn’t have been a Good Friday without the holy cross of Jesus Christ.
Saint Peter, that premier and A-#1 disciple of Christ, didn’t want anything to do with Jesus dying on a Roman implement of execution, on a cross. That wasn’t in the cards. It didn’t fit his profile of what the Messiah should be or do. And in tonight’s reading, our text, Jesus set him straight – as he sets all of us straight when He ways: If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.
We shouldn’t have any real problems with denial. We’re experts at that. We learn it at a young age. Something not so good happens and what does little Johnny almost impulsively say? “I didn’t do it; I didn’t do it; I didn’t do it.” If that doesn’t work, they move to plan B: “They made me do it; they made me do it.” It’s called denial; and it’s all but in our DNA. It just gets more sophisticated as we get older.
But self-denial isn’t wired into our DNA. That has to come from outside ourselves. We don’t live in a world of self-denial. We live in a world of self-affirmation where Facebook-ing and MySpace-ing and Twittering and Tweeting and texting and resume enhancement are what it’s all about. We’re gasping for breath – if not, drowning – in a sea of non-stop information. It seems like we have to fight so hard to preserve our own identity, to save our own self.
Jesus says: Deny it! You want to save your life, you’ll lose it. You lose your life for my sake and the Gospel, and you save it. You make the call.
Then, finally, He says “Take up your cross and follow me.” Most of us are more than ready to do that. Count us in as long as our cross is a nice, easy, light Styrofoam cross that doesn’t conflict with our schedule.
But could it be that our cross and the cross of Christ are one and the same? Yes! Yes! It was our sin that Christ bore on the holy cross. When the cross is Christ’s alone, when it truly is the holy cross, then the Gospel becomes as clear as the light of day. The cross of Christ is not a suggestion; it is not a pattern; it is not a paradigm for holy living; it is not an example of something that we are to conform to. No. The holy cross is Christ’s alone, and it is a life-giving proclamation! And to that proclamation, I offer a little suggestion: Enjoy that life, the forgiven life! Happy Holy Cross Day! Amen.
