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The question of the cross
The design is simplicity itself. Any 4-year-old with two popsicle sticks and some glue can make one. They can be small enough to be worn around the neck or wrist, or large enough to be seen for miles across the open prairie.
Too frequently they are fashioned alongside an otherwise unadorned stretch of highway, perhaps singly or in groups of two, three or more.
They have been a part of Christendom's landscape for two millennia.
And, since 1934, one has been a part of the landscape in the Mojave Desert in California.
It was erected by members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Death Valley Post No. 2884, in "Memory of the Dead of All Wars."
For the past eight years, it has been covered while lawyers and judges bandied the issue back and forth, with the ACLU filing suit to have it removed (Salazar v. Buono). In early October, the United States Supreme Court agreed to hear the case. A ruling is expected during the 2009-10 term.
The cross is the most recognizable symbol in Christianity, since it was on a Roman cross that Jesus bled and died at Calvary.
And, for some -- much as the name "Jesus Christ" frequently is -- the symbol is an offense.
Why this animosity? Why this seemingly sudden aversion to the symbols of Christianity in this day and age, in a culture that since its inception has embraced at least the basic tenets of that faith? Why should the Supreme Court even have to deal with what should be a "non-issue?" It's a simple cross, in place for 75 years, put in place with private donations by former members of this county's armed forces, veterans who not only bled on foreign shores, but buried their comrades there.
I've never been to the Mojave Desert. I have no plans to go there. Therefore, it is unlikely that I'll ever see this particular cross or care whether it is there or not.
Does it really matter? Or is it just another diversion, another distraction taking our eyes away from what does matter? Enough already. America is founded on Christian principles, all well and good. Then let us live by them -- live them out -- and quit spending precious resources fighting to keep them memorialized in the public square. They're not dead. Or at least they're not supposed to be.
The cross. What does it really symbolize? Why is it such an offense?
The answer is simple.
The cross deals with the problem of sin.
Sin is the issue that separates men from God.
Some would rather say "there is no God" than deal with the issues of sin, justice and judgment.
Others simply negate the concept of sin altogether, while others seek to redefine sin; eliminating those they cherish in their own hearts from the list of absolutes written by God's own hand.
Still others believe that they are righteous enough to merit God's favor, in stark contrast to those who believe their sin, above all others, is somehow untouchable by the promise of forgiveness, of salvation.
And then there are those who simply invent other gods, gods that conform to man's image rather than conforming man.
The cross cuts straight through each of these arguments and reveals what we have spent all of history trying to hide in our deepest heart. We are all sinners, in desperate need of a Savior -- and the cross was the chosen instrument that brought about our deliverance. As offensive as that truth is, the cross is a symbol of hope to those who see their sin and learn to hate it, those who know that their righteousness is naught but filthy rags. The cross, large or small, whether worn around the neck or placed on the highest mountain, is stained with the blood of the One, the only One, who saves. It is our hope and it is our shame, wed together, just as the two beams that form it are.
"For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God." 1 Corinthians 1:18 (NIV)