Crucifix

I'm letting the kids watch old Pink Panther shows while I write this morning. That will only last so long. I've felt the need to write so often recently. I keep carving out moments to sort out my thoughts and write them all down, this time with the aid of that rascally panther. 

I've been writing a lot about spiritual issues and I'm sure that's tiring for some, but it's the way my mind is wired. These things are important to me...not to the exclusion of everything else, but as a foundation. 

So, today I've been thinking about wearing a crucifix on a necklace versus wearing a cross, the difference being that the crucifix depicts Jesus suffering, while a cross is empty. I heard often, while growing up in the church, that "we Protestants" don't wear crucifixes because we  know that Jesus is risen. Whereas, presumably, the Catholics wear a crucifix because they aren't aware of that vital bit of information. I've heard pastor's say something to the effect of, "We don't keep our Jesus on the cross. We celebrate His victorious assent." It's really a silly debate. The problem of course is that such silly debates have monopolized so much of our time since Luther courageously nailed up his theses. 

Personally, I prefer to wear a crucifix. It's just a preference and I have no problems with anyone wearing an empty cross on a chain. I just wanted to take a moment and explain my personal reasons for preferring a crucifix.

Sometimes, and this is the instigator in me, I like to wear my crucifix when I know I'm going to be around a certain crowd. I can almost promise that at some point someone will approach me and ask me if  I'm aware that Jesus is still on the cross around my neck. It's in these spectacular moments that I feel free to give my explanation. 

Of course I'm aware that Jesus is still on the cross around my neck. In fact, I prefer to periodically look down upon or run my fingers over His suffering form. I do this because there is nothing that is a better equalizer than the cross of Christ. We are, all of us, equal at his suffering feet. Wherever we are now, and that could be as varied as tangled threads, our salvation begins in the same place...at His feet, looking upon His sacrifice. Also, to remember that He suffered terrible things reminds me that suffering itself is one of the most unifying qualities of life. We, all of us, suffer. We all grieve. And there are common threads within grief that cross every boundary line I know...nation, language, culture, gender, religion, economic status, etc. If we can find each other within the commonality of our sufferings, we can truly connect. Grief and pain help us to look past our differences and know that the other person is real. In fact, they are as real as we are. 

A dear friend of mine once pointed out that if you turn the crucifix over, the cross is empty on the other side. How profound that observation is to me! The empty cross is so powerful when you embrace the pain of the crucifix. How perfectly illogical and stunningly profound.