On the Sign of the Cross
Posted by Fr. Ron on January 22, 2007
One of the books I am currently reading is “The Sign of the Cross: The Gesture, The Mystery, The History,” by Andreas Andreopoulos (Paraclete Press). I find it a very exciting book – OK, it’s not Stephen King, but I am a priest, remember! There is a lot of good teaching in the book, but two things in particular struck me as I was reading tonight:
“Vast literature has been devoted to the inspiration of the cross, commenting on the cross’ ability to sustain in times of difficulty, or noting the pain that Jesus endured on the cross. Still, pain, endurance, and suffering are not the main focus of the way of the cross. Jesus makes this evident by connecting the cross to the denial of the self in the passage from Matthew’s Gospel. Rather than death, the way of the cross is submission of the self to the will of God. St. Paul also points to this when he writes to the Galatians, ‘I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.’ [Galatians 2:20]
“Inward spirituality is a difficult chapter in the history of corporate worship. Properly speaking, there is no such thing as private prayer in the tradition of the church. Individuals in the church are part of a larger body: No focus is meant to be made in prayer for one’s private salvation; no claim is meant to be made to having attained a higher level of “spirituality” than anyone else. The spiritual ascent ‘of the one to the One’ was a pagan ideal, to which Christianity was firmly opposed. In that sense, inward spirituality, or the contemplative withdrawal into the self, is meaningful only if it is still connected to collective prayer, and if the person who prays privately does so while in a connection of love and community with the rest of the church.
“In the same way, the sign of the cross starts from the self, but it describes an inward journey that is shared by the entire church and leads back to the church. The way of the cross is not a pursuit for a personal, individual spiritual merit, but an offering of the self to God. The deeper the journey into the self, the more complete is the offering of the self to God. This spiritual analytical journey into the self is practiced to varying degrees by all Christians, though the monks of the desert have lived in the practice of this journey. It is no surprise then, that monasticism is often thought of as the way of the cross.” (pp. 74-75)
What excites me about this section is where Dr. Andreopoulos teaches us that taking up our cross and following Christ is not so much concerned with the burden of the cross (as in that ever-popular saying that such-and-such is “my cross to bear”) or a concentration on all those things that we have to deny to ourselves (both of these have such negative connotations to the average person), but rather the submission of our lives to the will of God, a much more positive view of our life in Christ. Christ’s Passion and Crucifixion, we must remember, was first and foremost submission to the will of the Father (“Not my will but Thine be done” were His words in Gethsemane). So, like Christ, our way of the cross is also submission to the will of God.
The second thing that I found exciting in this passage is our constant connection with the rest of the church in our individual walk with the Lord. Christians cannot live apart from the rest of the Body. Especially in our culture, there is that history of “rugged individualism,” of the individual being totally self-reliant, that we can do it on our own. This is completely opposed to what all of Scripture teaches us. It can be said that, when Israel was taught that the sin of an individual affects the rest of the community, that they were being taught that they were part of a group and that whatever they did affected every member of the group, that they were not alone. This is why it is taught that the excuse for sin that “it doesn’t hurt anyone” is totally wrong and a lie of the devil. Thus, it is important for us to be connected to the rest of the body, to have a church family, for lack of a better way of saying it. Just as when a part of our body is severed, it withers and dies, so too if we are not connected to the rest of the Body of Christ, we too will wither and die. The popular view of monks and nuns is that they have separated themselves from the world, that they selfishly are concentrating on their own salvation. This is patently incorrect. Every good religious is aware that they are still connected to the rest of the Body. I have read that even hermits go to churches to receive Communion. Even if they do not go that far, they still are visited by a priest to receive the Sacraments. Their prayers are for the entire church, their own attainment of salvation is in concert with that of the entire Body; it is not an individual pursuit.
“Vast literature has been devoted to the inspiration of the cross, commenting on the cross’ ability to sustain in times of difficulty, or noting the pain that Jesus endured on the cross. Still, pain, endurance, and suffering are not the main focus of the way of the cross. Jesus makes this evident by connecting the cross to the denial of the self in the passage from Matthew’s Gospel. Rather than death, the way of the cross is submission of the self to the will of God. St. Paul also points to this when he writes to the Galatians, ‘I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.’ [Galatians 2:20]
“Inward spirituality is a difficult chapter in the history of corporate worship. Properly speaking, there is no such thing as private prayer in the tradition of the church. Individuals in the church are part of a larger body: No focus is meant to be made in prayer for one’s private salvation; no claim is meant to be made to having attained a higher level of “spirituality” than anyone else. The spiritual ascent ‘of the one to the One’ was a pagan ideal, to which Christianity was firmly opposed. In that sense, inward spirituality, or the contemplative withdrawal into the self, is meaningful only if it is still connected to collective prayer, and if the person who prays privately does so while in a connection of love and community with the rest of the church.
“In the same way, the sign of the cross starts from the self, but it describes an inward journey that is shared by the entire church and leads back to the church. The way of the cross is not a pursuit for a personal, individual spiritual merit, but an offering of the self to God. The deeper the journey into the self, the more complete is the offering of the self to God. This spiritual analytical journey into the self is practiced to varying degrees by all Christians, though the monks of the desert have lived in the practice of this journey. It is no surprise then, that monasticism is often thought of as the way of the cross.” (pp. 74-75)
What excites me about this section is where Dr. Andreopoulos teaches us that taking up our cross and following Christ is not so much concerned with the burden of the cross (as in that ever-popular saying that such-and-such is “my cross to bear”) or a concentration on all those things that we have to deny to ourselves (both of these have such negative connotations to the average person), but rather the submission of our lives to the will of God, a much more positive view of our life in Christ. Christ’s Passion and Crucifixion, we must remember, was first and foremost submission to the will of the Father (“Not my will but Thine be done” were His words in Gethsemane). So, like Christ, our way of the cross is also submission to the will of God.
The second thing that I found exciting in this passage is our constant connection with the rest of the church in our individual walk with the Lord. Christians cannot live apart from the rest of the Body. Especially in our culture, there is that history of “rugged individualism,” of the individual being totally self-reliant, that we can do it on our own. This is completely opposed to what all of Scripture teaches us. It can be said that, when Israel was taught that the sin of an individual affects the rest of the community, that they were being taught that they were part of a group and that whatever they did affected every member of the group, that they were not alone. This is why it is taught that the excuse for sin that “it doesn’t hurt anyone” is totally wrong and a lie of the devil. Thus, it is important for us to be connected to the rest of the body, to have a church family, for lack of a better way of saying it. Just as when a part of our body is severed, it withers and dies, so too if we are not connected to the rest of the Body of Christ, we too will wither and die. The popular view of monks and nuns is that they have separated themselves from the world, that they selfishly are concentrating on their own salvation. This is patently incorrect. Every good religious is aware that they are still connected to the rest of the Body. I have read that even hermits go to churches to receive Communion. Even if they do not go that far, they still are visited by a priest to receive the Sacraments. Their prayers are for the entire church, their own attainment of salvation is in concert with that of the entire Body; it is not an individual pursuit.
Musings from a twilight world... 
W. Keith Moore said
I keep finding out as a fairly new Catholic how incredible this treasure is we have in Christ’s Church. I don’t say this to offend my many protestant brothers and sisters, I say it because it is true. There are so many deep expressions of devotion and love for Jesus in the Catholic Faith that are missing in the protestant world. I can say this because for the first 42 years of my life were spent seeking in it. Something as simple as the sign of the cross, as ancient as the Church itself, is absent from the world I came from. But I have learned that in this gesture lies the entire teaching of our Lord. The cross, the Trinity, salvation, hope, love, and sacrafice, all in this simple gesture. How beauitiful, how deep, how helpful, how true! Thanks Father Ron for reminding “us” how we are joined by this simple gift.
Peace,
Keith