Cross Training
His feet were wrecked, the road wasn’t finished, and he said he couldn’t complain. A reflection on Galatians 6:11-18.
Galatians 6:11-18
Phrases that spoke to me today:
• those who want to make a good appearance in the flesh
• may I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ
• only a new creation
Applying the Word to My Life:
A while back, I was part of a Good Friday cross walk from Sts. Peter and Paul in Gilbert toward St. Cecilia. We carried a large wooden cross along the way, taking turns under the weight of it as we walked the miles between the churches.
One of the men with us had decided to go for a run before the walk, which turned out not to be his best idea. By the time we were well into the route, his feet were paying for it. At one stop, he found a patch of cold pavement, took off his shoes, and stood there trying to get a little relief.
I asked him how he was holding up. He looked over at the cross and said that, as much as he hurt, he really couldn't complain.
There was something about seeing him there after the run that stayed with me. He had already spent his own strength. His feet hurt, the road was still in front of him, and the cross was standing nearby. Looking at it didn't make the pain disappear. It changed the scale by which he understood it.
That's part of what Paul is doing in today's reading. He contrasts people concerned with outward appearance and avoiding trouble with his own decision to boast only in the Cross of Christ. After all the striving, proving, protecting, and trying to make things turn out the way we want, the Cross asks a simpler question: what does faithfulness look like now?
Paul of the Cross had his own version of that moment. In 1720, convinced that God was calling him to begin a community centered on the Passion of Christ, he spent forty days in prayer and wrote a rule for the life he believed God was asking him to begin. Then he traveled to Rome seeking approval and was turned away before he could even make his case.
He had done the preparation. He had made the journey. He believed he understood the call. And still the door closed.
That's what makes what happened next important. Paul of the Cross didn't decide that failure meant the call had been false. He kept going. In time, the community that became the Passionists took shape, and its members would make a special fourth vow alongside poverty, chastity, and obedience: to keep alive the memory of Christ's Passion.
That vow is really about what we remember after the run—after our strength is spent, after the plan doesn't work, after the door closes, after we discover that effort alone can't control the outcome. The Passionists keep the Cross in view because the Cross changes the meaning of everything around it.
The Cross doesn't take pain away. It keeps our pain from becoming the biggest thing in the room.
It does the same with success and failure. The Cross looked like defeat until we understood what God was doing through it. Sometimes what looks like a dead end is simply the point where our own effort stops being the measure.
After the run, the question is no longer whether this turned out the way I wanted. It's whether I'm still being faithful.
My Response for Today:
Today I'll bring one frustration to the Cross and ask what faithfulness looks like now.
ABOUT ST. PAUL OF THE CROSS
Name: St. Paul of the Cross (Paolo Francesco Danei)
Lived: January 3, 1694, Ovada, Italy – October 18, 1775, Rome
Feast Day: October 20 (United States); October 19 (General Roman Calendar)
Patron of: Hungary
Title: Priest; founder of the Passionists
Read more: Franciscan Media · New Advent: St. Paul of the Cross