When I reach Heaven, I can call out, I Carried the Cross of the Son of Man.
The other day, my sister decided to host a birthday party for her four young children. She decided that the four children would share the day as it was a convenient way for the family to get together and was a hassle-free way to share out some birthday cake for the family.
And those children who were turning, one, two, three and four years old, were very very very excited in the lead up to their birthday party. A great deal of their time in those days pre-the-party was spent listening to their mother explain that they would need to clean things up or re-organise things for the party. They were told to be good children and follow the rules so that they would be able to have a nice time at the party.
Now, because the birthday was held at home, the day before that birthday, all three children were asked by their mother to help her in cleaning the house. So – despite their young ages – those children each grabbed a rag and a duster and started dusting tables and wiping down couches. They worked together to pack away toys and clean their rooms.
Obviously – because of their ages – they made very little difference in the work of cleaning and preparing for the birthday party. After all, there is only so much dusting that a one year old child can do, while wobbling on their feet. But the point of the exercise was not to force the children to bear the burden of preparing for a birthday party themselves. That would have strained them beyond what was humanly possible. Instead, the point was to allow the children to experience the preparation for the event so that they could have some share in the joy of the function, feeling that they had contributed to it themselves.
And I have been thinking about that today as I have been thinking about Christ’s suffering on the Cross. You see, Christ suffered and died to redeem us, and like my one year old niece, He allows me to try to dust the house before my birthday party (in Heaven). And like my one year old niece, this makes me feel that I am doing all the work. But just like my one year old niece, I am in fact doing nothing helpful at all. Instead, God – like my sister – is allowing me to feel as though I am doing something to contribute to my salvation through the small trials He allows to come my way. And He does this so that when I reach Heaven, I can call out, I Carried the Cross of the Son of Man.
Just as my little nieces and nephews felt that they had done all the work on the big day – so too will I. And in fact, I would have done nothing worthwhile at all. But for my DIGNITY, Our Lord allows me to feel a little sting, just so that I can say that I felt something.
And I have been thinking about that today – on the eve before His Holy Birth…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.
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