The Cross of Irony
Rev. Jim Ryan, PhD — jimryan6885@gmail.com
First thoughts on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross
When it comes to the Cross, it seems to me, we have lived through a seismic shift that began with a view of exclusion and pious practices. Back when the Roman Church held that only its view of the Cross was the correct one. And when it was correct to regard it as a triumphal proof that salvation was possible only in the church. Who else recalls from their depth of knowledge of Latin the rallying cry, “In hoc signo vinces” or “In this sign you will conquer.” The piety of kneeling at the foot of the cross was regarded as one of the best evidences of a true spirituality.
These days the shift in view sees triumph in the Cross as a symbol of self-giving and of promise of resurrection. Piety – as devoted action – now includes acting for justice. So this feast of Exaltation is one of shining light on all those who must be lifted up in their own lives – lifted up to fulfill the message of new life for all people.
The Cross of Irony
Perhaps, we can agree that an appreciation for spirituality and the spiritual life requires recognition of irony. How ironic, we say on this Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, that the darkness of execution and death is the precursor of the light of new life! Irony operates at its best, perhaps, when we find ourselves in the weakness of vulnerability to life’s pressures only to discover strength of character to embrace life.
The reading from Philippians (2:6-11) sheds light on this matter of irony by reminding us that Jesus, the Only Begotten of God, took on the form of oppressed humankind even accepting death on a cross. How glorious is the exaltation, then, of the Risen Jesus, who reigns supreme. What makes irony ironic is the darkness is not just a condition to be observed. A person of faith must live in the darkness, be surrounded by and immersed in it. One could make the argument that the social and economic conditions we live in today constitute darkness. If you have a friend who now has a questionable residency status owing to radical changes to deportation strategies – then you are experiencing the darkness. If your spouse, or child, or other relative requires medical care for which they do not have the means to pay or the access to acquire necessary medications, you, too, are experiencing the darkness.
Nory Sontay Ramos’ mother, Estela Ramos Baten, was a person whom ICE deported to Guatemala, but not before confiscating her blood pressure medications which treated her condition of liver cirrhosis. She lived as a deportee in a Guatemalan apartment fearing for her life as she was unable to replace the meds that the US government took from her (Texas officials say they gave her medications prior to her deportation.) Estela died from the combination of stress and the forfeiture of her prescriptions.
Can the family hope for light to come from such darkness? Will Estela become one of irony’s persons and motivate other persons to overcome the darkness of such cruelty? Perhaps the exaltation of the cross might be a sign under which Estela’s surviving family members can discover the light of justice. One thing is certain: Estela and her daughter, Nory, do not belong to the droves of criminals, rapists, and narco-terrorists who were promised to be deported en masse from this country.
Another feature of this irony that informs one’s spiritual life is what to do to escape the darkness, to beat back the corruption that threatens hope. Let’s look at today’s Gospel reading from John (3:13-17). If some of this reading sounds familiar from outside of church walls, maybe you remember this. How many sporting events will have commentators in the front of the camera shot while in the background are the fans in the stands. They serve as a nondescript backdrop, except for those fans dressed in their respective team’s colors. Then you spot the sign in the camera shot that says “John 3:16.”
Read that single verse and you get the mantra of a certain group of Christians who sell the message that all one has to do to be justified before their Creator is to believe in their personal savior, Jesus Christ. Sadly, this verse is taken from its context in John’s gospel. The verses that follow, in particular v.17, teach that this Jesus came not to condemn but to save the world. Yes, believing in Jesus means acting like Jesus. Verses 19-21 from this extended conversation between John and Nicodemus (vss.9-21) further state that salvation is about turning away from deeds of darkness and walking in the light. Irony is fulfilled once the passage through darknesses emerges into the light.
How does one embrace this part of irony’s journey through life? It surely is not a matter of some passive way which is satisfied with belief’s presumed/assumed rewards. Living by the light is a meaningful and active choice for the person of faith. When one finds oneself in the midst of darkness, one could learn from what the philosopher, Richard Kearney, calls one’s persona. He calls it “the capacity in each of us to receive and respond to the divine invitation I call persona.” In a nod toward the ironic Kearney continues, “One might say that it is, paradoxically, by first recognizing our own powerlessness that we find ourselves empowered to respond to God’s own powerlessness and to make the potential Word flesh.”
So, it seems, if we are to apply this passage of John 3:16, and better, all of vss.9-21, we must respond first by rejecting and resisting the darkness. To become light it’s up to us to walk toward that light, to be responsible in our resistance. Kearney writes further, “We are free to make the world a more just and loving place, or not to. If there is evil in our society – as there surely is – it is not the pre-established will or destiny of God but our responsibility.” And to complete this understanding of one’s persona, a mutual recognition must take place. Otherwise evil/darkness prevails.
Otherwise, hardworking immigrant mothers and their Dreamer daughters get too easily swept up in a lying strategy that deports our neighbors rather than the criminals, rapists, and narco-terrorists. To allow this to continue to happen, as Kearney writes, would be “the consequence of our refusal to remain open to the call of the other persona – the summons of the orphan, the widow, or stranger, the cry of the defenseless one: “where are you?”
In short, recognize your own ironic participation in resisting the darkness by shining light – Exalt the Cross!
Litany of the Cross (JR)
One: Lift the Cross over Ukraine, over Gaza, over Pakistan.
All; Over the wars and climate violence that cause death and destruction.
One: Lift the Cross over sickness, over poverty, over loneliness.
All: Over the conditions of human weakness that call for healing and resolution.
One: Lift the Cross over religious, social, and political violence.
All: Over the alienations of human estrangement.
One: Lift the Cross over the Earth, the galaxies, the nebulae.
All: Over the universes of the far-distant unknown.
One: The Cross is our access to the faith that joins all believers under many symbols
to the Name that is above all names, as well as to the One with no-Name.
All: Creation belongs to God, who is adored, experienced, and accepted everywhere
as the one, who through grace, has set all things free to come to share God’s
life.
One: We gather here under the symbol which represents for us self-emptying love and
life-fulfilling justice. The Cross invites us to act for social justice, for
reconciliation, for peace. The Cross is at the same time an object of
abandonment and an instrument of healing. May this worship space, even as
it joins us in community, reveal the power of creation. And may that power
be the revolution of universal love.
All: “We preach Christ crucified. To those who are called, Christ the power of God
and the wisdom of God.”
