The Way of The Cross
Christ became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. - Philippians 2:8
Today’s Gospel takes us through Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, torture, condemnation, execution, and burial. It’s a concise and jarring retelling of some of the most traumatic things possible in life – all happening to one person in less than 12 hours. For most of my life as a practicing Catholic, this was easily my least favorite part of the liturgical year. It felt so dour and overwhelming, and so when the passion narrative was read aloud or Good Friday arrived, I’d either tune out or try to speed through the day so I could get to the more palatable joy of Easter and the Resurrection.
This aversion to unpleasantness extended far beyond spirituality and was in fact a deep and unchecked fear from an abusive childhood. As I got older, I learned to hide it behind an ever-growing ego, but on the Christian path there’s simply no hiding from the cross. This truth hit me full on in early 2020 when I became the end-of-life caregiver of my dad, followed immediately by becoming the caregiver of my rapidly declining mom and ailing brother – all while trying to rebuild their crumbling house and finances and hold down a demanding job.
It was all so much, and so as I had before, I worked until I couldn’t feel anymore and hid behind what was left of my ego. I hoped it’d all pass quickly, but it didn’t, and by late 2022 I was literally falling apart. During Lent last year, the cross began to call to me. I began meditating on it, and when Good Friday came this time, something shifted within. In Jesus’ suffering, I saw mine, and in mine, I saw Him. The subtle urge to look or turn away from suffering faded as something new took its place.
In my fifth year as a caregiver, the demands remain largely the same. There are still days when I feel the temptation to indulge fear and avoidance, but the cross cannot be forgotten. I return to it often, and there with Jesus, know that Resurrection awaits just on the other side.
“The cross is the school of love.” – St. Maximilian Kolbe
Albert Wolff