The Cross...

This Sunday is the Sunday of the Adoration of the Holy Cross and I still am in wonder.

When I was a small child I read and re-read the classic "Pilgrim's Progess" and remember quite vivdly the place where Christian, guided by Evangelist, comes to the cross, falls on his knees and the burden he carries falls of his back and into an empty tomb never to be seen again. I grew up knowing that somehow, some way, Jesus was able to bear the pain and sin of the world, mine included, and years and many sins later I still have a special sweet sadness when I think of what has been done for the world, and for me.

Yet the older I grow the less I understand the "why" of it all. I have no idea why God would bother to come to us and endure so much for so little in return. How could my feeble, twisted, and intermittent love, if its love at all, be worth all of that? It isn't in any way I can figure. But I guess the figuring isn't up to me.

Some time ago I wrote that either God is absolutely insane for bleeding even one drop for humanity or loves us in some way that renders our words useless. I still believe this is true and as I stand before the cross the wonder remains and only silence can speak of it all.