It
was a simple wooden cross that marked the far wall of the Trappist monastery
at Snowmass, Colorado. It was about
5 feet high by 3 feet wide. It was made of what looked to be oak. I didn’t
think much of it when I first saw it in their chapel. It was plain and simple,
like everything else in that place of worship. About mid-week, that all changed.
I heard a remarkable thing during lunch. You see, the Trappists take their meals
in silence, while a monk reads out loud from the latest book that they are using
for their Lectio Divina. In that reading, they explained that the wooden cross
on the wall of their chapel would become a grave marker. The cross hanging on
the wall in their chapel would mark the grave of the next monk who would die
from that monastery. What an amazing tradition. Each monk lives and prays in
the shadow of the cross. And not just any cross, but the one that might mark
the end of his personal journey through Calvary to Jesus.
I took a walk that afternoon and found the graveyard of the monks. There were
14 crosses that marked the passing of monks from this place of prayer and solitude.
Fourteen crosses filled with the memory of the hymns and songs and prayers of
the community that journeyed together toward their God. Fourteen crosses - fourteen
symbols of the power of Jesus to save and raise up those who come under its spell.
And the remains of fourteen lives lived under the triumph of the cross. How do
YOU live under the shadow of the cross?
You see, we are invited to live our lives, as did the monks, under the shadow
of the cross. We are invited to let our lives echo the life of Jesus that we
hear of in St. Paul’s hymn - in that self emptying of love for the world.
Jesus did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at. Rather, he emptied
himself. And then he emptied himself again upon the cross. And there, free from
all pretensions, free from all images of self and importance, free from everything
but his father’s will, he was triumphant. There, ‘lifted up’ as
John tells us, Jesus reveals to us who we are, whose we are, and how we are to
live.
It is the pattern for us to live into, the truth about our lives. The cross is
everything that the world is not - powerlessness, surrender, and suffering. It
is about finding life in death, finding meaning in suffering, finding the deepest
truths about living in the giving of ourselves away. And you and I live under
that cross, whether we trust it or not. The monks made that very visible in their
chapel. We are called to make it very visible in our lives.
Let me suggest three possible ways to live into this.
If you are familiar with the play, Les Miserables, you might remember the last
scene opens up with Jean Valjean praying at a small table in his room.
At the ends of that table are two silver candlesticks. Reminders of the act of
a kindly Bishop who instead of having Valjean put into prison for stealing the
silver table goblets they had used at dinner, gave these as well. “My friend,
you left so early, surely something slipped your mind. You forgot I gave these
also, would you leave the best behind.” Though Valjean sells the goblets
to start his life over, he cannot part with the candlesticks. Each night, as
he prays, they are there as the visible reminders of the price paid for his redemption.
Is there a cross in your room somewhere? Do you have a visible reminder in your
dorm room, apartment, home, that reminds you of the journey made for you and
the journey you are to make?
Take on the same mind as is in Christ this week -that of self-emptying love.
Do the dishes that your roommate left in the sink. Stick a load of laundry in
for your brother. Take out the trash even though it is not your turn. Discover
the freedom that Paul spoke about - the emptying of the self so there is only
room for God.
Offer up a suffering you are undergoing for the good of someone who is struggling.
Don’t complain about an ailment, don’t whine about a small thing
- instead, transform that suffering into a prayer that someone else will know
a moments peace in an addiction, a bit of relief from their grief, a moment of
joy in their sorrow.
The monks had it right - to physically remind themselves the mystery they
stand under - the Triumph of the Cross. May we who gather under that same shadow,
learn how to live the redemption we celebrate at this meal.