Take Up Your Cross

Our gospel readings for the year are from Mark. Mark, I think, is my favourite gospel (although when I read the others I end up saying the same thing!) Mark's gospel is punchy, no-nonsense and to the point. Mark doesn't waste time with opening his gospel with the classic Nativity story, that's far too many words! Instead, we start with the prophecy of Jesus, with John the Baptist, swiftly followed by Jesus' Baptism and his power to overcome whatever evil or darkness that stands in his way. 


Mark wants us to know Jesus' power. Mark wants us to understand that there is much evil and darkness in the world but that we have a God who will overcome it.


In this week's gospel reading, Mark 8:31-38, we have a short and choppy story loaded with emotion. Jesus, for the first time, is predicting his death, Peter tells him off and then Jesus comes back with what feels like a pretty brutal telling-off- ‘get behind me Satan!’


Thank God for Peter. Thank God for speak-first, think later Peter. Peter comforts me in the fact that I often say things without thinking. But in this instance, I completely understand why Peter takes Jesus off to tell him not to predict his death. Jesus is the long-awaited King, the Saviour they have waited for hundreds of years. The One who will liberate them from Roman Rule and establish God’s kingdom. They are just getting going in this mission and their Messiah is lowering the tone by talking about his death? Not exactly going to bring in the followers is it?!


I relate to Peter. It’s like when we don’t want a good thing to come to end but we know it has to. Peter, in telling Jesus to ‘shh’ is saying, please don’t say these things, I am not ready for you to go, I cannot hear this news, it’s too painful, and it’s too hard to consider life without you.


After Jesus replies to Peter, He then turns to the crowd and I think says some of the most profound things about faith. Jesus says, if you want to follow me, take up your cross and follow me, if you want to gain your life, you have to lose it. In other words, to live an abundant life means taking up your cross, it means that suffering and sacrifice will happen, and it means that we might have to lose our life to find it again in Jesus.


This interests me because it doesn’t really fit with our world’s narrative. It doesn’t fit with the beauty, cosmetic, and weight-loss industry that tricks us into thinking that we can obtain immortality. It doesn’t fit with the capitalist narrative that if I buy one more thing, I will be complete. All of this sanitises us from what is really going on, sanitises us from standing with and in the world’s pain.


I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit numb to it all. When I see another report of some dreadful thing happening I don’t stand and weep, I go, ‘oh another one.’ When I see someone sleeping rough in the streets I don’t feel angry at this injustice, I feel numb that I have seen yet another person in need.


 I wonder, if when Jesus says take up your cross and lose your life part of what He is saying is: don’t sanitise yourself from what’s going on, feel it, stand with those who are in pain and don’t get too numb.

Too often I’m like Peter, I want to ‘shh’ up the things that are dark and hard and move to a solution. And yet Jesus’ rebuke and then his speech to the crowd rings in my ears. Don’t shy away from the bad stuff, because God wants us to fully understand the pain so that we might know God with us in it all.


This Lent we are partnering with the Bristol Soup Run Trust, a charity that rolls up its sleeves and gets involved with and stands alongside the homeless in Bristol. The invitation to us all in Lent to allow ourselves to be moved by their work, to allow ourselves to feel the pain that others do- to take up our cross, to sacrifice in order that we might actually find life in a more profound and Jesus-like way. 


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