As I sat in the Adoration chapel, a welcomed reprieve from this crazy world, I noticed something glisten out of the corner of my teary eyes. Turning my gaze ever so slightly, I realized it must have been light reflecting off the large crucifix that sits on a table next to the monstrance. I hadn’t ever noticed this crucifix before, at least not in a way that made it memorable. I wondered if it was new or if I was just unobservant. I wondered how this beautiful gold and silver crucifix had never captured my attention before. And after the third or fourth time of losing my place in the rosary I was saying, I wondered why my heart was so deeply captivated by a crucifix – an image I had seen so many times before. So, I placed my rosary back in its pouch, I sat back in the pew, and with eager curiosity I looked at the crucifix with focus and attention. And for the first time in my life, I beheld the beauty of the cross.
I have always viewed the crucifix as something gruesome and gory. Perhaps its because I watched The Passion of the Christ at too young an age. Or maybe I was old enough to watch it but I’m just sensitive to depictions of violence. Perhaps its because as a teenager a protestant friend of mine asked me why Catholics had to include a beaten, bloody, and bruised icon of Jesus on the cross, when an empty cross would be far less jarring. Whatever the reason, seeing the crucifix has long left me unsettled at best. My encounter with that shiny crucifix in Adoration a few weeks ago changed that, however. Was the Crucifixion gruesome and gory? Absolutely. There’s no way around the fact that Jesus’s death was horrendous. But the crucifix? The crucifix is glorious. By His holy cross He has redeemed the world.
Since noticing that golden crucifix a few weeks ago, I’ve spent a substantial portion of my holy hours admiring it. As I’ve quieted myself and listened, a message has emerged, a message I didn’t realize I so deeply needed to hear: God makes all things beautiful – even the cross. The rough, dirty, heavy cross on which Jesus was crucified; the deep and dreadful wounds he sustained; each fall he endured; even Jesus’ final cry of desperation “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46); God makes it all beautiful. And if God chooses to make such a seemingly gruesome, gory, heartbreaking event inexplicably beautiful, does He not also do the same for the crosses we bear in this life?
We’ve been talking a lot about suffering this Lent here at Women at the Well. You’ve heard us share about redemptive suffering: the idea that our sufferings, united with Christ’s Passion, can be offered for the sake of redemption for ourselves and others – to rescue and set free from the penalties of sin. Lent, a penitential season, offers us a unique opportunity to ponder the crosses we bear. We all will endure sufferings in this life for suffering is an unavoidable aspect of the human experience. But don’t let all this talk about unavoidable and purposeful suffering get you down, dear sister in Christ!
In St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, he reminds us that God is the “Father of mercies and the God of all consolation.” (2 Cor. 1:3) He goes on to say “For just as the Passion of Christ abounds in us, so also, through Christ, does our consolation abound” (2 Cor. 1:5) and “So may our hope for you be made firm, knowing that, just as you are participants in the suffering, so also shall you be participants in the consolation.” (2 Cor. 1:7)
Just as you are a participant in suffering, dear sister, you shall also be a participant in the consolation. The crosses you bear in this life will one day be lifted from your weak and weary shoulders, but you do not have to wait to know the comfort of a God who took on human flesh and endured the human experience. A God who knows what it’s like to weep; a God who knows what it’s like to fall and feel as though you can’t get up; a God who knows the feelings of betrayal, abandonment, rejection, and fear; a God who willingly accepted his cross, but still called out to his Father in desperation. God awaits with open arms, ready to comfort us un our sufferings with his grace and mercy. He eagerly awaits to meet our desperation with His great love for us. Do not hesitate in turning to Him when your crosses feel too much to bear. Even Jesus needed someone to help Him carry his.
God longs to make our crosses beautiful – in fact, He’s already begun the work of doing so. Although we may not be so lucky as to see the magnificent beauty of the crosses we bear in this life, we can be assured that our sufferings will be the wounds by which Christ redeems, the perspective by which we may see His radiant glory, and the steppingstones upon our path to Heaven, on which God will always journey by our side. Next time you find yourself glancing at the crucifix, I invite you to ponder in your heart the great beauty of that cross—how God took what was meant to mock and destroy and made it glorious and life-giving. Our God, the Father of mercies and God of consolations, will make our crosses beautiful, too.
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How can you turn to God in your sufferings this week? How might you allow Him to console you?
Note from the Author: This blog post was originally written for Women at the Well and was published on their blog in March of 2022. Women at the Well is a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting and empowering Catholic women to grow in Faith + Community. Women at the Well has been such a blessing in my life. Check them out at Women at the Well to find out how you can bring Women at the Well to your parish!
