What the Cross Means to Me

It was a dark, cloudy evening. Thunderstorms were all around and the lightning flashed almost constantly as we made our way back home from a night in the big city.

…big by our standards anyway.

As we approached Happy, Texas, there it was in the distance standing tall with lights illuminating it for all to see…the cross.  It was recently erected in hopes that someone would see it and feel compelled to turn to God.

I have lots of respect for those who chose to honor the object of their beliefs in such a public way. Even though it is not something I would do, I won’t begrudge them their passion and purpose as long as they don’t force those ideals and beliefs on me and my family.

As we drove by the illuminated cross, I asked myself what it meant to me to see it there on the side of the road. For that matter, what does any cross I see these days trigger in me?

For the Mel Gibson crowd, the cross is a reminder that Jesus suffered, died, and miraculously came back to life for the purpose of getting their evil, sinful selves a pass into heaven on judgment day.

Not me.

Not even close.

Well, maybe sorta close.

That cross in that moment amid a backdrop of violent lightning, reminded me that religious people through the centuries have gone to great lengths to silence anyone who dared question the currently accepted way of doing things.

Jesus dared.

They had him killed in a very public and official display of authority.

That much, I do not question.

Beyond that, I have many, but that’s for another day and another post.

Not much has changed in 2000 years.

Bottom line, regardless of who you are, if you seek to show people a better way–a more compassionate and less vengeful pathway to communion with a divine source–odds are pretty good things may get messy for you.

Thank you, Big Cross, for reminding me that rocking the boats of the religious majority rarely ends with “peace, be still”. Thank you for reminding me that sometimes the message of a better way through love and peace can be twisted and perverted into a whole new religion.

Sorta makes a person wonder if speaking up is worth it, doesn’t it?

2 Responses to “What the Cross Means to Me”

  • Don Rogers:

    You and I are on that journey out of the dry desert of traditional Christianity headed….? Well, I’m not sure exactly where we are headed. But I think we both agree it is better than where we had been planted for so long. It took curiousity and a gay son for me to be willing to begin my journey. I am so glad I did for I would never have gotten to know so many wonderful people like you who shared a thirst for more spiritual depth in their lives than had been experienced previously. I am glad I found you. You are a good friend and fellow traveler.

  • Makes me wonder too! but from time to time, I still kick up some dust!

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