Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
First Reading: Numbers 21:4b-9
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 78:1bc-2, 34-35, 36-37, 38
Second Reading: Philippians 2:6-11
Gospel: John 3:13-17
Daily readings: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/091426.cfm
The people in the desert have had enough. They complain: why did you bring us from Egypt to die here? We are disgusted with this wretched food. The wretched food is manna — bread from heaven, a daily miracle. They have been living inside a gift so long they cannot see it. God sends serpents. People die. They repent. And then God’s answer is strange: he does not take the serpents away. He tells Moses to make a bronze serpent and mount it on a pole. Whoever looks at it will live. The very thing that is killing them becomes, when they turn toward it, the source of their healing.
Jesus tells Nicodemus: just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up — so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. The cross is the same logic. The instrument of death, the thing that was supposed to be the end, becomes the source of life for everyone who turns toward it and looks. Paul fills in the shape of it: he emptied himself, took the form of a slave, humbled himself, became obedient to death — even death on a cross. He went all the way down. And because of this, God exalted him above every name. The descent is not the defeat. The cross is not the failure. It is the place where love goes all the way.
And then the verse everyone knows: God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but have eternal life. God did not send his Son to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. The cross is not guilt or punishment. It is what love looks like when it refuses to stop.
A few questions to sit with today:
1. The people in the desert complained about the manna — bread from heaven — because they were worn out by the journey. Is there a gift in my life right now that I have stopped being able to see because I am tired? What would it look like to look at it again?
2. The bronze serpent: God told them to look at the very thing that was hurting them. Is there a wound, a failure, a cross in my own life that I have been avoiding looking at? Can I bring it to Jesus today and ask him to be present in it?
3. He emptied himself and did not grasp. Is there something I am holding too tightly right now — a need for control, for comfort, for being right — that I could open my hands and release?
4. God did not send his Son to condemn the world. Is there a way I have been carrying a sense of condemnation — from God, from others, from myself — that this feast is inviting me to put down?
One small thing for tomorrow:
Sometime tomorrow, make the sign of the cross slowly and intentionally. Let it be a prayer: Lord, you went all the way down. You did not stop. I belong to you — in life and in death and in everything in between.
Lord Jesus, today the Church lifts up the cross. Not as a punishment but as the place where love went furthest. Help me to look at it honestly — at what it cost you, and at what it means for me. Take whatever I am carrying that I have tried to carry alone and let it be placed there with you. You did not come to condemn me. You came to save me. That is the love I want to live inside. Amen.
If you would like to share: is there a cross in your life right now that you are ready to bring to Jesus — to look at together rather than carry alone?
