There was a day in Sedona last month where my sisters and I came across this scene at the Chapel of the Holy Cross.
We sat in that simple chapel in awed reverence looking up.
Up at the symbolism we discussed in hushed tones, the depiction of that Savior who saved us.
And who continues to save us.
We don’t generally celebrate the cross as much as we celebrate the resurrection in our church.
We dwell on the fact that Jesus lives. And because He lives,
we will live as well.
But the cross is such an incredibly beautiful symbol. The symbol of sacrifice. The symbol of true, unconditional, no-matter-what-we-do kind of love.
We had the opportunity to do the “stations of the cross” yesterday with my sister. As we went from station to station I felt such renewed love for each moment discussed on that Good Friday long ago.
I was in charge of station #4:
…which led me to remember this part of the Richard Rohr meditation I had read earlier that morning:
“Now by Jesus going into, And occupying that space [of the victim], deliberately, without any attraction to it…it is as if He were saying…’there is nothing you can do…that will be able to stop my loving you…the moment you perceive me, just here, on the cross, occupying this space for you and detoxifying it, the moment you perceive that, then you know that I am determined to show you that I love you, and I am in your midst as your forgiving victim.’” —James Alison
I love just sitting with this thought to await Easter morning. The beauty of that Good Friday so long ago.
“Beauty for ashes.”
The act so filled with both anguish and love that it changed everything.