Carrying the Cross: Lessons I Learned

It was not something I was prepared for, but when the pastor called the afternoon of Christmas Eve and asked if I would be crucifer at the evening service, I said yes. Since joining the small Presbyterian church last April, I had seen the crucifer carrying the large golden cross and leading the procession each Sunday. The procession had not been part of my experience during my years attending a Baptist church, but having been raised as a Catholic, I found myself liking the rituals. So, knowing that I would be front and center for the very important Christmas Eve service, not only as crucifer but as a reader, I dressed carefully, even unearthing a pair of seldom worn high heels. Big mistake.

Memorial Presbyterian Church in Boothwyn is miniscule by any means. Our total congregation does not equal 50, yet Ron and I felt drawn to this church a year ago, when a friend invited us to the Christmas Eve service and I was hastily pulled up to the lectern to read a passage from the Old Testament. The minister was so grateful for my "super power" of reading and I realized how much I was needed here. It has been part of  my Sunday worship ever since. But carrying the cross? Well, we would see.


Pastor Kauffman's directions to me were skimpy. There had been, apparently, many last minute changes in the service and when I arrived at 7:15, no one seemed to really know what was going on except that we were not using what had already been printed in the bulletin. I'm a teacher and a mother, so I am used to chaos and change. No big deal. I was told I would be carrying the taller and heavier of the two ceremonial crosses and to "duck at the doorways." That was about it.

Okay, a little background here for those of you not familiar with the Anglican churches and the tradition of the crucifer. The word is made up of the Latin words "crux" meaning "cross" and "ferre" meaning "bear." So, literally, the crucifer is the cross-bearer. The crucifer plays an important role in guiding the worship of the congregation towards Christ and the cross, reminding them of His procession on Palm Sunday and His return to Heaven. No pressure, then.

After I had put on the black and white robes I've worn for the last year, I hefted the cross a few times. It was heavier and longer than I expected it to be. As the head of the procession, I would also have to open the door into the sanctuary while managing the cross, and carry it around the church during the candlelight ceremony. But the acolytes were already lining up behind me--ready to follow me whence I would lead--so there was no turning back. And as I carried the cross, reminiscent of Christ and His sacrifice for us, up and down the aisles of the small church and lifted it into its resting spot on the altar, I learned foru valuable lessons about being both a crucifer and a Christian.

1. KEEP YOUR BALANCE. Wearing high heels while carrying a large and heavy cross required a balancing act. The cross was top-heavy and would easily have toppled both me and it onto the floor. I needed to find the center of the weight, which was near the top of the cross, and focus my attention there. If I managed to keep the top perpendicular to the floor, the long staff would follow and cause me no problems.

Life, too, is a balancing act, often top-heavy with so many concerns and duties. Finding the center of the weights, prioritizing the importance of our many tasks, can keep us from becoming overly concerned about mundane details. Do the most important things and, like the staff, the rest will follow.

2. FIND YOUR OWN HOLD. A friend had told me to keep my hold on the staff low, around the region of my hips, but I found that I needed to shift my hands up just a bit in order to compensate for the weight of the top. Liturgically, it might not have been exactly correct, but it was what I needed to do to bear the weight. By the time I reached the turn up to the altar, I felt comfortable with my hold. This cross was not going anywhere without me!

I can apply this lesson to my own life and my own crosses as well. I may not always attack those things that need my attention in the way others think that I should. But that's okay. I have found my own hold on taking care of an ill husband, working two jobs, helping adult children, and trying to be a writer.

3. WALK SLOWLY. I tend to rush through things in an often vain attempt to save time, but there was no rushing the procession. The weight of the cross demanded that I slow my pace--particularly in high heels--and let the cross dictate the speed. At first, walking so slowly felt odd, but I realized that the symbolism of what I carried required dignity and reverence. Any task God entrusts to us should be handled in the same way. My long desire to make a living as a writer cannot be rushed, but must be slowly experienced. I am a better writer for the journey.


4. ALLOW JOY. For the first few moments of my time as crucifer, I felt overwhelmed, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, not the least of which was falling flat on my face. The fear kept me from enjoying the experience. Once I let go of my fear, though, I found myself marveling at the gift of Christ to me personally. I allowed the joy of my salvation to overtake my fears. I counted it a privilege to be the crucifer.

How often do I let fear interfere with my joy? How often am I afraid to embrace a new opportunity, or take a new step, because I fear failure? Allowing the joy to precede the fear can help me become a better servant for my God.

Each of us has been given crosses to carry. The one I carried Christmas Eve was designed to focus the worship onto Christ. It was important that I carried it with respect, reverence, and joy. And it is important that, in our daily lives, we carry our own crosses in such a way as to lead others to God.

It Matters Whom You Marry: Before and After

My daughter is planning her wedding. She and her fiance want a very simple affair with less than a hundred people. They are not concerned with the flowers or the music or the food at the reception. They are concerned with making sure their marriage will honor God. This is what they put their energies into as they move towards June 28, the day they will become husband and wife.

My daughter's happiness spills out of her and I rejoice that she, who has seen so much hurt in her young life, still has the capacity to love someone as much as she loves Jared. I thank God for that. But I also take a little credit. Somehow, in the midst of a home life where their father has been hospitalized more times than not, my children still believe in everlasting love and Christian marriage. What a miracle! How has this come to be?

This morning I saw a blog on Facebook entitled "It Matters Whom You Marry." The intent of the blog was to give advice to young Christian girls on how to choose their future husband. And as I read through the five suggestions given by the author, God revealed the answer to my question to me. The reason my children can all still open themselves up to loving another is this: I chose the right man. And, equally as important, he chose the right woman.

Since Ron's car accident in 2000, our lives have been divided into "Before" and "After." Our marriage is  no different. So to well-meaning doctors and acquaintances who ask me, "Why do you stay with him?" I respond with my own list of five.

1. IT WILL IMPACT YOU SPIRITUALLY.
Ron and I began attending church together shortly after we started dating. In the year before our wedding, we read through the Bible together using a couples' devotional. I had come from a Catholic background and Ron had been raised in the Baptist church. We built up one another's faith. We took on ministries in our church right away and started every meal with a blessing. When we had children, we dedicated each into God's family and made sure they were fed spiritually. Sunday School, Church, Evening Services, and Wednesday night prayer meetings were our weekly routine.

In the after time, there are Sundays when Ron cannot get to church. I go without him when I feel that I can leave him, letting others at church know that he is thinking of them. The accident has altered Ron in many ways, but it has not altered his care towards others. He calls those that are hurting or sick and tries to cheer them up. Does it impact me spiritually? Definitely. Ron's illnesses bring me closer to God. I have spent many, many hours praying in hospital rooms and trusting Ron's very life in the hands of the Great Physician. There has never been a time in the After that I have not been able to ultimately say, "God can handle this."


2. IT WILL IMPACT YOU EMOTIONALLY.
In the Before time, Ron was a kind person who was not afraid to show his own emotions. If I cried, he held me close and handed me his handkerchief. He never once accused me of being a cry-baby or a weak woman! He did all he could to keep me balanced. I tend to take on too much in my life, and Ron always tried to get me to set priorities and keep myself safe in all ways.

Ron is still the same kind person, even though his own emotions are often out of whack. I do not cry much in these After days, simply because my life is too full and time is precious. I would rather pray than cry. But the first 20 years of our marriage gave me the groundwork I needed to become a wife and a mother. My emotions now channel into my writing, which Ron whole-heartedly encourages.

3. IT WILL IMPACT YOUR PHYSICALLY.
Ron worked hard to support us. When we married, he was making little more than a hundred dollars a week and I was going to school. Money was tight. Money has always been tight. Material things did not matter that much to us. We always had a warm, safe house and food to eat. We had enough to share with others in more need than us. Ron worked a second job from time to time when the kids were small. If a child needed shoes, he did without. He even welcomed the series of "Lost Boys" into our home, fellows who would stay with us for a while seeking some stability. It certainly impacted his wallet, but I never heard him complain.

Ron is no longer able to work. I work two jobs now to support us and provide for Ron's medical needs. I try not to complain, although I do get tired from time to time. He is the first one to suggest I take a day off or sit and rest for a while. It is advice I do not always take. But because I know the bulk of our support depends on me, I take care of myself. I watch my weight, exercise, take vitamins, and try to get enough sleep. If he is snoring too loudly, he will move to the couch so I can sleep.

4. IT WILL IMPACT YOU MENTALLY.
Yes. And yes. Ron told me early on in our dating days that he had a bit of a temper. It was never, ever directed towards me or the kids. I desperately wanted to finish my bachelor's degree, and Ron helped me make that happen. The fact that he did not have a college degree himself did not impact the decision to encourage me.


I now not only have a bachelor's degree, I have a master's and a doctorate. Mentally, it is sometimes challenging to handle all of Ron's medical and psychological issues. But I am grateful that I was prepared to support us with my advanced degrees, and that my ability to understand medical issues has helped me to panic less when a surgery looms. I have sometimes wondered if I would have all the education I do if Ron had not become ill.

5. IT WILL IMPACT YOU RELATIONALLY.
I have a small, but close, family. I also have really good friends. Ron supported the time I spent with my family and friends and made sure we divided holidays up evenly. I will admit I have lost some friends in the After time. There are those who just do not understand that my time is very limited. There are others who do not "get" while I am still with Ron. I do not need those people.

The friends I hold dear now are the tried and true friends, those who have seen me through crisis after crisis after crisis. Even if I do not see them as often as I would like, I know that they uphold us in love and prayer. I maintain a close relationship with each of our three children as well. In the After time, they have adjusted to a different sort of Dad. But they have adjusted. Ron continues to support my friendships. I have a standing monthly dinner date with a close friend. Only the end of the world would make me miss it. Ron would not suggest it.

If you want to read the original article that prompted by thoughts on this snowy day, here is the link.
http://thechristianpundit.org/2012/08/15/it/

I'd like to leave you with just one more thought. Marriage is about hope. As Emily Dickenson noted, it is the thing with feathers and can quickly fly away. But choosing the right person to marry makes Hope cling to the branch despite the storm. Hope does not promise it will be easy. My marriage of 37 years --yikes!--has not always been easy. Ron's illnesses were not something I could have predicted when we said our marriage vows.

 For better or worse.

I meant it.