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Take Up Your Cross

2nd Sunday of Lent                                   

Mark 8:31-38

Then, [Jesus] began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And, Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But, turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Take up Your Cross

I think we’re all familiar with the idiom, “That is their cross to bear.” It means that a particular hardship that someone has in their life is just something that they have to live with. It’s implied that they should complain as little as possible, because suffering builds character, and complaining won’t change anything, anyway. I’ve never been good at math; I guess that’s just my cross to bear. I’m allergic to peanuts, that’s just my cross to bear. My son is always getting into trouble, that is my cross to bear.

Our gospel reading for today is where that idiom comes from. Jesus is talking to a crowd of people and says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I think it’s that “deny themselves” part that leads us to think that we should suffer in silence. It’s what prevents so many people from seeking the help that they need.

It’s like that saying that some people use, when they’re trying to tell someone to be strong in the face of adversity: “God will never give you more than you can handle.” So, not only are we supposed to suffer in silence, I guess we’re supposed to believe that the suffering itself is actually coming from God. There’s a weird, twisted sort of comfort and logic to it. It gives meaning to the suffering. We can hold on to the idea that this suffering comes from someone who cares about us? That God has carefully calculated just how much we can take, so that we can be pushed right up to that limit, and still be confident that we’ll pull through.

It all depends on how we understand what Jesus is saying. Is Jesus actually telling us that we need to suffer in order to become one of his followers?

I was just diagnosed with ADHD a little over a year ago. I think most people are familiar with ADHD, but just in case there’s anyone who might not know, ADHD stands for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I had suspected for a long time that I had it, but I figured after getting through high school, college, and graduate school, what would be the point of getting a diagnosis, now? But, even though I had figured out how to get through life up to this point without a diagnosis or treatment, it was still something that interfered with my everyday routine activities. So, I figured, why not? What would it hurt?

I talked to my doctor about it, and she put me in touch with a psych nurse so that I could get screened for ADHD. After chatting with the nurse for a few minutes and explaining what I thought my symptoms were, she said, “Well, I think it’s pretty clear that you have ADHD, but let’s just go through the questionnaire, so that we can put it in your file.”

ADHD tends to show up in one of two ways. There’s inattentive ADHD and hyperactive ADHD. I have the inattentive kind, and it’s hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t have it just how difficult it is to do normal everyday things. When I was younger, I could never pay attention for any reasonable length of time to a teacher who was talking, to a sermon, sometimes even conversations. I got really good at masking, which are behaviors that neurodivergent people use to hide their neurodivergence. I might be talking to someone, and in the middle of the conversation, my mind will start to drift, and everything around me will disappear, like I’m not even there anymore, and I’ll start to think about squirrels, or comic books, or how sand is formed. Suddenly, I’ll snap back to the conversation, having no idea how long my little mental lapse was, my conversation partner none the wiser. And, I have a little panic attack inside of my head, trying to make sure I have the right expression on my face, pretending that I had been listening and understanding the whole time, and praying that I won’t have to comment on anything that they had said in the last twenty or thirty seconds.

Having a diagnosis and treatment has helped. It hasn’t made a huge difference in my life, but it is noticeable. But, the mere fact that I’m addressing this issue now has shed some light on just how damaging it had been to not get a diagnosis when I was younger. I spent so much of my life asking myself what was wrong with me. Why couldn’t I just pay attention? This is something that everyone does, every day. It’s a totally normal part of life; what’s the big deal? Why can’t I focus! What’s wrong with me? Why am I broken?

You can’t have a voice like that inside of your head, a decades-long mantra telling you that you’re broken, that you’re not good enough, that you’re lazy, without it having an affect on you. But, I didn’t understand what was happening. That was my cross to bear.

When we read the Bible, part of how we understand what we’re reading is understanding who we think God is. Do we think of God as judge, jury, and executioner, or do we see God as a loving and protective parent? If we see God as a judge, then “deny yourself and take up your cross” can very well mean “carry your burden, and be quiet about it.” If we see God as loving and benevolent, “deny yourself and take up your cross,” can mean “do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.”

Taking up the cross doesn’t have to be about suffering; Jesus suffered enough on the cross. Turning our suffering into the cross that we bear makes it an idol. God doesn’t want us to suffer. Jesus suffered so that we don’t have to.

When Jesus tells us to “deny ourselves and take up our cross,” he’s telling us to live into his teaching. We all have the instincts inside of us to be selfish, to be greedy, to “keep up with the Joneses,” to live out “an eye for an eye.” Jesus tells us to deny ourselves, just as he did with Peter, when Peter pulled Jesus aside to rebuke him, because he wasn’t acting the way Peter thought a messiah should act. Jesus said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Peter’s instinct was telling him that they needed a warrior king, someone who was going to fight for them, do violence for them, someone who was going to oppress their oppressors. But instead, Jesus said, “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me.”

I don’t know what my life would have been like if I had been diagnosed with ADHD as a child, and had gotten the help that I needed. I don’t think’s God’s intention was for me to suffer my entire life so that I could build character. I didn’t build character. Growing up that way was so incredibly damaging, and now I have to work to undo all of the damage that I did to myself, because I didn’t get the help that I needed.

Our instinct in our current day is to face our challenges alone. We are told to greet the world with a stiff upper lip and a bigger chin, to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. There’s also my personal favorite: “God helps those who help themselves.” You’ve heard me say it before, but I’m going to say it again; that is not in the Bible, verbatim or otherwise.

Jesus wants us to take care of each other. It’s at the heart of everything that he said and did. But, caring for people means that someone is being cared for. And sometimes, that person is going to be you. There is no shame in needing or asking for help. We don’t expect the people that we help to feel shame, so why would we put that burden on ourselves? It’s because our culture tells us to. “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow.” Jesus led through service, which means that we should do the same. But, to serve means that someone is being served. Everyone is going to need help at some point in their lives. And, when your turn comes, I pray that you have the grace to accept it in the spirit in which it was given. “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow.”

Amen.

 

~ Rev. Charles Wei