24th Sunday in Ordinary Time - B 2024

When I visited Israel, I was surprised by the sheer number of stores selling Christian goods.  You could practically throw a stone in any direction and hit one.  The most popular item in every shop was the cross or crucifix.  Each store had dozens to choose from—some ornate, others simple.  They came in all sizes, from large to small, made of wood, metal, or plaster.  Some had a modern style, while others were traditional.  On some crucifixes, Jesus was shown as brutally suffering, while on others, He barely appeared to be in pain.  Whatever you were looking for in a crucifix, you could find it.  Walking through the streets of Jerusalem, I found it strange that one could shop for a cross that suited their personal tastes and aesthetic preferences.  After all, can we really choose our crosses?

Today’s Gospel passage presents us with a pivotal moment.  Jesus asks His disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"  Some think He is John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets.  Then, Jesus turns to them directly: "Who do you say that I am?"  Peter, speaking for the group, declares, "You are the Christ." Immediately, Jesus tells them that He must suffer, die, and rise after three days.  Peter is horrified and rebukes Him.  Jesus, in turn, rebukes Peter, saying, "Get behind me, Satan!"  He then calls the crowd and sets out the conditions for discipleship: deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me.

This passage is difficult.  Up until now, in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus has been performing miracles, and His followers have been growing.  But here, in the middle of Mark’s Gospel, the tone shifts.  For the first time, Jesus reveals His ultimate mission.  He hasn’t shared it before because He was building a relationship with His disciples, gradually gaining their trust.  Now that they believe He is the Messiah, He unveils the hard truth.  To say the disciples were shocked is an understatement.

From our perspective, we know how it all plays out—Jesus’ death leads to His resurrection and triumph over hell.  But consider the disciples’ viewpoint.  The popular Jewish expectation of the Messiah was that He would restore the earthly kingdom of Israel, perhaps as a political leader or emperor who would drive out the Romans.  Jesus’ prediction of His passion shattered all those notions.

We also need to grasp how repulsive the image of the cross was to the disciples.  The cross was a brutal instrument of torture used by the Romans to send a public message: "Don’t mess with us."  For the disciples, the cross wasn’t a symbol of hope.  Even in the early centuries of Christianity, the dominant symbol was the fish, not the cross.  When Jesus spoke of taking up your cross, He was referring to something that was horrifying and despicable.

Today, some peddle an impartial and distorted gospel, claiming that if you believe in Jesus, your life will be smooth and filled with blessings.  You may hear from certain televangelists that faith will bring good health and more wealth.  While Jesus does want to bless us, He never promised an easy life.  What He did promise is that following Him requires self-denial and involves suffering.  Jesus, our suffering Savior, transformed the cross from a cruel tool of death into the means of our salvation.  The Christian message is not that life will be perfect, but that our suffering is not wasted.  God is with us in our pain.  He understands suffering.  Just as He transformed His cross into a weapon against sin and death, He can use our crosses in our journey toward holiness.  Jesus did not promise to remove our suffering, but He did promise to transform it and impose upon it a new meaning.

Whenever Jesus speaks of His crucifixion, He also speaks of His resurrection.  The two are inseparable.  While suffering is part of this life, it prepares us for our true home in Heaven, for our own resurrection.  Without belief in Heaven, Hell, or the resurrection, the Christian understanding of suffering makes little sense.  But we know that suffering in this life isn’t pointless—it prepares us for eternity.

I imagine I haven’t said anything new.  We all know that God allows suffering.  But when we face personal tragedy, illness, death, or any form of pain, the question isn’t just "Why suffering?" but "Why this suffering?  Why must I carry this cross?  Why can’t I have a different one?"  Even Jesus, on the night before His crucifixion, asked the Father to take the cup of suffering away from Him.  We, too, can ask God to remove our suffering.  But ultimately, we are called to trust.  Trust that God, in allowing suffering, brings a greater good from it.  Unlike shopping for a cross in Jerusalem, we don’t get to choose the crosses we bear.  We don’t get to choose the cause of our pain and tears.  Our sufferings often lie outside our control, making them all the more bitter.  But this is where faith becomes real.  In our suffering God asks us, "Do you trust Me?  Do you trust that I can use this for your good?  Do you trust that I can use this to make you a saint?"

The crosses we are given, large or small, light or heavy, are the means by which God transforms us.  This teaching is hard, but it is the essence of the Christian life.  Will you accept your cross and follow Jesus?  This is at the heart of the Christian life.  It is not an easy teaching, but it is the way to salvation.