Today Jesus makes a request of us, no simple request, to be sure: deny everything for me, and after doing so, come, take up your cross and follow me.
It is a simple command packed with a multitude of meaning because He doesn’t just say “follow me,” but, instead, first come after me, deny yourself, embrace the Cross and then “follow me.”
For, by denying ourselves, by forgetting who we are in the face of Christ, as it were, we allow ourselves to become molded and built in His image. So that the Cross that transformed the world will also transform us as well.
And, it happens when we understand the true meaning of the Cross, when we start to see it not as a means of torture and pain, but as a symbol of the greatest act of love that anyone has ever done for us.
Perhaps, that sounds strange, but when we see our cross in light of His, we can truly learn the depth of love that God has for us, because it is only at the foot of the cross where we learn the meaning of true love, it is only when we hold the burden of the weight of our own Cross, that we need the strength of Christ, who suffered His own, to help us to carry ours.
Many of you have asked me where I found my vocation and, to be honest, it wasat the foot of the Cross, because within a span of month, I had open-heart surgery, for a second time, had a pacemaker surgery for the third time and two weeks after I lost my father.
When things got really bad, I would find myself in front of a crucifix, which was in this little wooden post, at the edge of the parking lot, at the Church I attended. I would frequently come to this crucifix, and pour myself out, crying and yelling and just saying everything I could.
Eventually, I came to realize that this was how Christ called me, this was how Christ transformed my life because His cross became a beacon to which I was constantly drawn, His cross helped me to carry my own, so that in the greatest darkness, in seeming blindness, in what felt as an absence of faith, I found Him, hanging pierced and wounded with His sorrowful mother at my side, a feast we just celebrated yesterday.
The Cross, our Cross makes us unique because our suffering is unlike anyone else’s and the only person who truly knows the depth of our suffering is Christ Himself. For our cross is His, and His is what makes ours that much lighter, and yet, He still has us carry our own, indeed, out of love for us.
That is what it means to come after Him, to imitate Him and to take up our cross, it doesn’t mean we allow ourselves to be crushed, it just means we allow ourselves to become changed.
That is why St. Pio, a man who was no stranger to suffering, in one of his letters to his spiritual director, and an important quote to ponder said that there is absolutely no reason to imitate Christ if in imitating Him we don't appear “arisen” or “changed.” So that when we deny ourselves, through our daily cross, Christ shines through us and we become “renewed” or “resurrected” in Him.
And, it happens at that Eucharist, it happens when, after walking the long road to Calvary with Him, we arise, for by receiving Him, we receive His life, by receiving Him, we, indeed, are transformed, because something incredibly beautiful happens, as St. Paul says elsewhere and with whom I leave you with today: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives within me.”
It is a simple command packed with a multitude of meaning because He doesn’t just say “follow me,” but, instead, first come after me, deny yourself, embrace the Cross and then “follow me.”
For, by denying ourselves, by forgetting who we are in the face of Christ, as it were, we allow ourselves to become molded and built in His image. So that the Cross that transformed the world will also transform us as well.
And, it happens when we understand the true meaning of the Cross, when we start to see it not as a means of torture and pain, but as a symbol of the greatest act of love that anyone has ever done for us.
Perhaps, that sounds strange, but when we see our cross in light of His, we can truly learn the depth of love that God has for us, because it is only at the foot of the cross where we learn the meaning of true love, it is only when we hold the burden of the weight of our own Cross, that we need the strength of Christ, who suffered His own, to help us to carry ours.
Many of you have asked me where I found my vocation and, to be honest, it wasat the foot of the Cross, because within a span of month, I had open-heart surgery, for a second time, had a pacemaker surgery for the third time and two weeks after I lost my father.
When things got really bad, I would find myself in front of a crucifix, which was in this little wooden post, at the edge of the parking lot, at the Church I attended. I would frequently come to this crucifix, and pour myself out, crying and yelling and just saying everything I could.
Eventually, I came to realize that this was how Christ called me, this was how Christ transformed my life because His cross became a beacon to which I was constantly drawn, His cross helped me to carry my own, so that in the greatest darkness, in seeming blindness, in what felt as an absence of faith, I found Him, hanging pierced and wounded with His sorrowful mother at my side, a feast we just celebrated yesterday.
The Cross, our Cross makes us unique because our suffering is unlike anyone else’s and the only person who truly knows the depth of our suffering is Christ Himself. For our cross is His, and His is what makes ours that much lighter, and yet, He still has us carry our own, indeed, out of love for us.
That is what it means to come after Him, to imitate Him and to take up our cross, it doesn’t mean we allow ourselves to be crushed, it just means we allow ourselves to become changed.
That is why St. Pio, a man who was no stranger to suffering, in one of his letters to his spiritual director, and an important quote to ponder said that there is absolutely no reason to imitate Christ if in imitating Him we don't appear “arisen” or “changed.” So that when we deny ourselves, through our daily cross, Christ shines through us and we become “renewed” or “resurrected” in Him.
And, it happens at that Eucharist, it happens when, after walking the long road to Calvary with Him, we arise, for by receiving Him, we receive His life, by receiving Him, we, indeed, are transformed, because something incredibly beautiful happens, as St. Paul says elsewhere and with whom I leave you with today: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives within me.”
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