40 Crosses for 40 Days: A Lenten Devotion
Journey to the Cross of Christ
The idea started rumbling around in my brain about two days before Ash Wednesday. I ignored it initially, in keeping with my typical response to such ideas, pushing it off until I had time to do some research, weigh all the options and make a good choice based on all the available information. That was my original intention. Except, of course, the blocks of time I am waiting for never actually appear, new tasks arrive, time passes, and then I forget the original idea in the first place. Does that sound familiar?
The idea was simple. In addition to giving up some things for Lent, I would also add one new practice, and that one new thing would be to write a short reflection every day during the 40 days of Lent (skipping Sundays, which are not technically counted as part of the 40 days). Each reflection would simply be a meditation on a different cross. If the Lenten season is a journey to the cross of Good Friday, so that we can die and rise again with Christ, then perhaps other crosses could serve as inspiration as well, illuminating more of the one great cross. Each reflection would consist of a picture, a reflection, and a prayer.
G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “We may, by fixing our attention almost fiercely on the facts actually before us, force them to turn into adventures; force them to give up their meaning and fulfil their mysterious purpose.”1 Or, as Joseph Pearce paraphrased, “Let us be ocular athletes, and write stories about cats and clouds.” Let us look deeply and think long about what we see. Let us notice the crosses already around us, especially those burdens that others are carrying, and be moved to assist them, just as Christ was moved with pity at the poor plight of humanity.
Crosses, both spiritual and artistic, come in so many different shapes and forms, yet each one is unique. Like many Christians, I have a collection of crosses. Some of them were gifts, others were unique finds I came across in my travels. Each one of them not only speaks of its own uniqueness, but it also makes a connection to the one Great Cross of Christ, the cross that redeemed us all. They are all particular yet universal, reflecting the paradox of faith.
For example, there’s the cross of ashes we receive on Ash Wednesday and the Clinging Cross, that is designed to fit snugly into one’s hand. Another cross I have was handmade by an unhoused woman I met one morning as I was driving into work. She was standing on the corner with a sign in one hand and a cross in the other. The sign read “Crosses. $20 each.” I bought her cross and each time I look at it, I think about the larger cross of homelessness, carried by so many.
Another cross I am partial to is from Vietnam and was made from strips of magazine and newspaper. This cross inspires me to pray for all those who fast every day, at every meal, for all those who fast not due to discipline but from necessity. It also helps me to reflect on the creativity and resourcefulness of the artisan who crafted it, as well as all the people along the way who helped to sell that cross. It is a testimony to what we could do if we all worked together.
This has been my inspiration this Lent, but I would wager that the Holy Spirit whispers something similar to most of us, something tailored to our own gifts and our own circumstances. I don’t believe God gives us tasks that are too heavy or that will overwhelm the responsibilities that we already have, but I also know that God likes to stretch us, to take us a bit further than where we would normally go.
Maybe God is asking you to do something new, to grow a little, or maybe He’s asking you to offer up all the struggles you are already carrying, to simply abide. But whatever your journey looks like this Lent, I hope taking a few minutes each day to notice these different crosses assists us on our journey to the cross of Christ on Good Friday, so that we all experience the joy of the empty tomb and the great happiness of Easter Sunday.
“Tremendous Trifles” by G.K. Chesterton