Sunday, September 14 from St. Augustine Cathedral

My dear sisters and brothers, you can well imagine that in the mail that I receive at the office, Some portion of it are letters of complaints. Of course, I get them because the presumption is I should fix what’s wrong, whatever that happens to be. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can’t.

If I look at just that group of letters, the majority are from parents who are complaining about something that was related to the education that children are receiving either in our schools or in our parascools of faith formation, the grade they received, how they were treated – perhaps when they misbehave – their punishment or disciplines, and on and on and on.

But in recent years, in the last two years, I’ve received a number of letters from parents that caused me to pause and then broke my heart. Because what they objected to astonished me. What they objected to was that in class, class, in religion class, they did not want their children to learn about the cross of Jesus Christ because they thought the cross would be too hard, too upsetting for them to know. I must tell you, my friends, after I’ve recovered from my shock, it broke my heart because these parents, as well meaning as they are, are looking upon the cross with the eyes of the world, not with the eyes of faith.

Something you and I need to consider today as we gather on this unique feast of the triumph of the cross, the day when Saint Helena recovered the cross and brought it back to Rome, on the day when her son, Constantine, decided to build the forebear of what is now the Basilika of the Holy Sepulcher, 1,700 years ago. We gather here to celebrate the triumph of the cross. So what is it that we are celebrating?

For on one hand, it is true. When you look upon the cross, Jesus was not the only one to hang upon it. There were tens of thousands that were crucified by the Roman Empire because it was a means of fear. It was an act of tremendous cruelty and savagery to keep people in obedience to the Emperor. It instilled tremendous trepidation in the hearts of people, and it was probably the most painful way to die. There is nothing pleasant about the crucifixion of anyone, especially the one we honor as our savior.

And yet, with the eyes of faith, we look upon that same moment of profound evil, and in it, shown brightly the love that this world has been waiting for from its creation and has offered to you and me.

Like a light that shines in the deepest darkness you could imagine, we come before the cross because we look upon this act and see that light and see the triumph of God’s love in the world. A love that you and I know, first and foremost, is a love that forgives.

For here on the cross, His triumph was that He paid the penalty for my sins and yours, the penalty of the entire human race, the sinless Lamb of God, freely died, freely died, so that you and I might have the benefit of forgiveness and a place in eternal glory. It’s a light that shines a love that welcomes all people to this fount of mercy. Saints and sinners, people of every race, language, culture, and way of life who are willing to walk with Him and believe in Him. It is a love that is found not just here, but every moment of our lives, since his spirit dwells in you and me, in the rough and tumble of our everyday life, God’s love never fails. God’s love triumphs always. Sometimes we forget that. For that reason, we have this feast. But allow me to be a bit bold.

We can leave this church, Christians, proud of that which the Lord did, triumphant in His cross. We carried around perhaps our necks. I certainly do. We carried in our cars, we hang them in our homes.

And yet, my friends, the true triumph of the cross is shown by the life we live. That which was given to us, we ought to give to others. The love that is shown to us on this day, this act, this moment of profound darkness, you and I who bear His name, do not have to pay the penalty, but we ought to imitate the love. A love that forgives not just the people we we like, but the people who deeply offended us to struggle to love them. A love that does not say, You are my have, and you are my have not. A love that sees no boundaries, no distinctions, no discriminations. A love offered to all. A love that’s just not reserved for my birthday, Valentine’s Day, Christmas Day, whatever day it happens to be or every other Sunday. It’s a love that is offered every day in real concrete decisions, one day at a time. There’s not a person in this church, myself included, who has not failed doing that at one time or another.

My friends, we don’t just come here to look upon the triumph of the cross, the victory of love over all that is evil simply as a memorial of what happened, simply in thanksgiving of what was given to me, but to commit ourselves again to give to others what the Lord has given to me. In a world that is looking for true triumph, perhaps that is the message, that is the image, that is the task that awaits you and me.