“Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life[a] will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?”
Matthew 16:24-26
An ancient Roman torture device designed to suffocate the victim in his own blood distracts my mind of late. Jesus Christ not only died on a cross, but calls his followers to “take up his cross and follow me.” So Christians are sadist? Catholics are already cannibals drinking and eating the blood and body of their Savior, so why not enjoy inflicting pain on oneself?!
2020 taught us that pain, disease and civic unrest, is inevitable. The question lingers- how do we bear this pain? Jesus holds his arms out open wide on the cross with the answer: die to yourself. Jesus calls us to die, sometimes literally in as a martyr, but always metaphorically to ourselves. Beautiful abstract theology sounds so grandiose and noble. Yet, I’m currently learning cross-bearing in a humble simple practical ways.
MOTHERHOOD DEATH OF CONTROL
The THUMP. In the morning, I was washing my face when Thomas walked in saying, “Did you let Matthew into the office?” Our 16 month old discovered the freedom of climbing out of his crib and wandering into the world. My response to this big boy milestone: PANIC! I am a control-freak planner: reading books and preparing spaces for every aspect of our son’s life. In fact, I already finished a potty training book and bought a toddler toilet several months prior to planning on potty training him! For the first time in his little life so far, I felt unprepared. No toddler bed, no bed railing or twin bed ready for him. Plus, I had no idea how to sleep train if he decided reek havoc in his room rather than sleep (fortunately, he, knock-on-wood, lays in his opened-faced crib without leaving during nap and nighttime, getting up only when his parents open the door). So I flipped out to the point of frustrating my husband I became so fixed on solutions.... “what bed should we buy on Amazon?” “Should we go bed shopping today?” All this stress in my worrying mind resulted in bickering. The resolution: let my husband help solve problems after he has his morning coffee. The bigger resolution: die to my sense of control in motherhood, and die to predictability so I can live in unpredictable chaos of raising a child. I finally felt peace by stating, “I accept that you (Matthew) are growing up and are moving beyond my control. I accept the chaos and the challenge it brings.”
MARRIAGE DEATH OF SEXUALITY
Chasity and purity: traits preached to the single Christian girl. The freedom of sexuality, to enjoy God’s gift of “being fruitful and multiple” (for those unfamiliar with biblical rejoicing of sexuality check out Songs of Song), occurs in the covenant of marriage. Christ on the cross calls us to die self, yes even sexuality, even in the confines of Holy Matrimony. In simple terms: there is no sex whenever you want it condition in Christianity.
Currently, I sit in a waiting room. The waiting room: he doctor’s waiting room. My husband of two years and some change is undergoing surgery to an area essential for intimacy (fixing a groin hernia). This means that prior to and after we abstain from sexual relations. Well, as Catholics, we are open to life and closed to sex certain times of the month (period, ovulation when avoiding pregnancy). This means, due to timing and surgery recovery, a circumstantial month of chastity must happen. Now, I really enjoy sex with my husband as a stress reliever and a way to increase intimacy with him (my patience for his sass increases after feeling so desired by him). So I am struggling to die to my sexual desires so I can live to purity as a married woman! I find peace by resolving, “My husband’s surgery recovery provides an opportunity to increase our emotional intimacy as I show love my caring for him. We will draw closer than even the glue of God-given sex can give!”
Death to my sense of control and sexual urges, small sacrifices at the foot of the Cross. Yet, I offer these simple crosses to bear, united to author of life!
We live to die. Die to your mother’s womb to enter the world. Die to childhood to become an adolescent then adult. Die to this world to go to heaven. Death, the cross hurts. Yet to live we must die. So die to yourself daily to live in union with the One who died for you.
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