Theology of the Cross

Sermon by Pr. Michelle Sevig on the Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 29 + October 20, 2024

Glory…now that’s a word we don’t use very often, right? I mean we use it in church a lot–to sing hymns or say prayers or talk about God. But in daily life? It's hard to think of a single example of a way that I would use that word. Instead the word glory has been replaced by terms like success, fame, prestige, or distinction. 

We understand, don’t we, the ways people seek glory in daily living? Social media influencers present an idealized version of themselves, striving for attention, likes, and admiration. Their "glory" is often defined by fame, beauty, and wealth, creating a culture of comparison. Some political figures seek personal glory by striving for power or influence, often manipulating their image or bending the truth to gain favor. Even in philanthropy, some individuals or companies donate to causes with an eye toward personal recognition rather than genuine service. And who among us doesn’t appreciate an “atta girl” pat on the back and recognition of a job well done, a trophy or plaque for being the best, or a public affirmation on social media for being a model parent or a valued neighbor.  

We recognize all too well the mindset of James and John, who approach Jesus seeking places of honor, desiring to sit at his right and left hand in his glory. They want the recognition, the special access, the privilege of being seen as Jesus’ closest companions. Their request reflects the same human desire we see today for status, for standing out, for being number one.

James and John’s bold request to Jesus, reflects the very human desire for recognition and privilege. But their misunderstanding is clear. They believe that being close to Jesus will guarantee them a place of honor, that his kingdom will mirror the systems of power and glory they see in the world around them. They want to be first, just as we often do—whether it’s in our workplaces, our relationships, or in the eyes of others.

Jesus doesn’t rebuke James and John, instead, he points them to them toward the path of suffering and self-sacrifice. The glory that Jesus speaks of is not about triumph, prestige, or honor in the way that they expect. It’s about a life of service, humility, and even suffering. The path to glory, Jesus says, is through the cross. 

Theologians, thanks to Martin Luther, call this the theology of the cross, which emphasizes that God often works in ways that are opposite to human expectations. It acknowledges our human limitations and brokenness. It sees God present and active in the suffering Jesus endured on the cross. 

What most American Christians are more familiar with, though, is a theology of glory which focuses on the outward signs of blessing, such as success or victory.  In this framework, like James and John, we look to be rewarded for doing the right things or believing the right stuff. It tends to glorify human wisdom, strength, and efforts, suggesting that we can be closer to God through our own achievements and abilities.

Why all this talk about theology, in a sermon you might be wondering? No one really thinks about this stuff in daily life, do they? 

Why yes, I think we do. I see it and hear it all the time. 

A natural disaster happens, and someone who survived the tragedy says, “God was protecting me.” Which, when interpreted through a theology of glory, emphasizes God’s triumph over evil and the protection of the ones who are in God’s favor. 

Or when I’m at the hospital serving as chaplain and I hear someone say, “If God really loves me, then I wouldn’t be going through this crisis.” Meaning I wouldn’t be suffering if God loved me. 

Can you hear the ‘if God is on my side, I win’ theology? If I’m succeeding, if I’m at the top of my game, if everything is going right for me, then I’m in a place of honor with God. Amen and thank you Jesus!

But Jesus points to a new understanding of glory. He tells his disciples that his path is one of service and suffering. His baptism is one of death and resurrection. 

In baptism we become intimately associated with Jesus and the God whose image he bears. As ones who have made a commitment to be part of this spiritual community we bear the name of Jesus wherever we go and in whatever we do. 

As I was meeting with the parents of baby Mack, who will be baptized tomorrow, we discussed what it means to live a baptismal life. It’s not a one time event that is easily forgotten and dismissed the next day, but it is a calling into a life lived in the countercultural ways of Jesus. In baptism God promises to be with us throughout our whole life-in our joys and in our struggles. During the baptismal rite the sign of the cross is made on the forehead of the newly baptized “You have been sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” This marking is both a promise and a challenge to us in our Christian living.

In Jesus, God promises to be with us in our suffering and in our service to others. Nothing can separate us from the love of God we know in Christ. So we make the sign of the cross on our bodies during worship as a prayer and as a reminder that we belong to this one named Jesus—despite all our failings and fears. Nothing can separate us from his glory, from his love, from his presence. We proclaim it to the newly baptized and we sing it to ourselves as a reminder “You belong to Christ, in him you have been baptized. Alleluia!” 

One of my favorite preachers, Barbara Brown Taylor, writes this about our time together in worship: “We bring all of who we are to worship. It is a bodily experience and not one for our spirits alone. There are faces to be looked at, voices to be heard, hands to be touched, bread to be tasted, and wine to be smelled. We sing things we could just as easily say and bow when we say other things, some of us touching ourselves gently on forehead, chest, and shoulders as if we were tracing a cross. Sometimes we kneel, assuming a posture that is all but gone from our world—like troubadours, like lovers, like servants, we kneel before the Lord our maker and our hearts follow suit. Then we stand to sing and sit to listen, dancing the peculiar ballet of the people of God."

All of this is a countercultural, to some even odd or cumbersome, bodily experience. But in our actions and in our silence, this body [people] gathers together to be embodied and empowered to serve. We do not do this holy work alone. In Jesus, God promises to be with us in our suffering and in our service to others. Nothing can separate us from the love of God we know in Christ. We are with him in his glory, as servants of the servant. And the power of being associated with him guides our daily living with gratitude and wonder for all the ways we are being made new by his love.

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