Exaltation of the Holy Cross
On this day, we commemorate the dedication of the Constantinian basilica at the site of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, as well as the day the Cross was triumphantly recovered and brought back to Jerusalem by Emperor Heraclius. These historical events, in the 4th and 7th centuries, respectively, helped the Church come to a greater appreciation for the redemption wrought by our Saviour on the wood of the Cross.
When we celebrate this feast, the objective of Holy Mother Church is both to honour the instrument of our salvation – and through it the Lord Himself who died for us – and to urge us to become enamoured with the Holy Cross. This is no small task. A first level of love for the cross consists in venerating the Cross itself, either the relic of the True Cross, or any cross or crucifix. We honour the image of the crucified in our churches and homes, paying it the respect it is due. This does not ordinarily demand great virtue, but only faith and a bit of devotion and humility.
A higher level of devotion to the Holy Cross is to reverently make the sign of the cross over oneself, not in a rush as if one were swatting flies, but in a spirit of deep meditation on what it means to be signed with the cross in the Name of the Holy Trinity. This can be a profound moment of grace when done in private, but when done in public, for example, before a meal in a restaurant or when passing by a church, it can demand great love for God, oblivious to what others might think.
There is, however, a higher level of devotion to the Holy Cross, which demands even greater love. It consists not just of venerating the image and marking ourselves with it, but in embracing the cross, our cross, when it comes to us. In other words, it consists of living the cross, and even of living on the cross. It is rather easy to preach about the wonders of uniting oneself with the passion of Christ, and to read in pious books about how the saints endured torments for Christ. When it comes to bearing the cross, however, we all feel an instinctive horror.
Let’s be honest with ourselves and acknowledge that if it depended on us, we would run away from the cross. For most of us, it’s hard even to hear talk about the cross. The Imitation of Christ put it well when it said: “That seemeth a hard saying to many, If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his Cross and follow Me. But it will be much harder to hear that last sentence, Depart from me, ye wicked, into eternal fire. For they who now willingly hear the word of the Cross and follow it, shall not then fear the hearing of eternal damnation. This sign of the Cross shall be in heaven when the Lord cometh to Judgment. Then all servants of the Cross, who in life have conformed themselves to the Crucified, shall draw nigh unto Christ the Judge with great boldness.”
What that means is quite simply this: suffering awaits us. If we want to reach Heaven, we must not only suffer willingly, but we must even want to suffer inasmuch as God wants it for us. That sounds harsh, and we don’t want to hear it, but it is the truth. Why is that? First of all, because after Original Sin, God decreed that it would be through suffering that sin would be atoned for and that the path of salvation would be opened. There is no other way. There is also another reason: if we do not want to suffer, we will not be prepared for it when it comes, and we will murmur and complain. It might be an illness, the death of a loved one, a professional disappointment, or a vicious slander. It might be that something we worked for over a period of years is overturned in the folly of a moment; it could also be the internal torture of loneliness, when Heaven seems to be silent while we hang on our cross. If we murmur, we reject the grace of the moment. That is why St Benedict has zero tolerance for any kind of murmuring. The monk who murmurs is sawing the branch on which he is seated; the Christian who murmurs is lying to God, pretending to be a follower of the Crucified One while in reality refusing to touch the cross with his little finger.
To return to the Imitation of Christ: “The whole life of Christ was a cross and martyrdom, and dost thou seek for thyself rest and joy? Thou art wrong, thou art wrong, if thou seekest aught but to suffer tribulations, for this whole mortal life is full of miseries, and set round with crosses. And the higher a man hath advanced in the spirit, the heavier crosses he will often find, because the sorrow of his banishment increaseth with the strength of his love.”
If we refuse the cross in this life, we prepare for ourselves much greater torments in Hell. Even if we do manage, despite our running away from the cross, to save our souls, we have a long and terrifying Purgatory that awaits us, one that will not be meritorious but purely expiatory. Suffering is much easier, much cheaper, and very meritorious when embraced on earth in a spirit of union with our crucified Saviour.
September 14 is also a significant date for us monks, as it marks the beginning of what we call the Monastic Lent, leading up to Easter. It is from this day that we take stock of our spiritual life and seek to renew our desire to live the monastic life in all its perfection. Our attentiveness to self-denial will be greater, our eagerness for fraternal charity more lively. Our zeal for holy reading, lectio divina, will be rekindled. To quote a recent author quoting St Gregory the Great: “The Word must wound. In other words, it must challenge false situations, give rise to second thoughts, create metanoia. If the Word grazes the outer layer of the soul without wounding our thoughts, heart and life, reading becomes formalism. The Word which proceeds from God’s innermost life wishes to lay hold of ours, to reach the depths of our being, the marrow. … A Word deeply suffered, it will pierce the hearts of others after passing through my own: “I will speak, I will speak! May the sword of God’s word pass through me to pierce the heart of my neighbour! I will speak, I will speak! May I understand the word of God, even if it is against me!” (St Gregory, In Ezech. XI, 1, 5).
To help us in this sometimes austere way of the cross, Holy Mother Church will remind us tomorrow that we need not fear the cross, since wherever the cross is, so there is the Mother of Sorrows. Wherever the Cross is, there is Mary. As St Louis de Montfort says, Mother Mary has the art of turning bitter crosses into sweet crosses, like a good mother who knows how to add something sweet to bitter medicine and administer it with such loving tenderness that the child may be able to endure it. Mother Mary is there to help us along the way.
At the same time, we must be mindful of our duties to her. When we reflect that she stood at the foot of the Cross for us, to join her Son in atoning for our sins, we cannot help but feel moved to console her, to offer our humble prayers and penances to express our gratitude for her presence in our lives.