Marked By The Cross
Sermon
Is The Cross Still There?
Nine baptismal sermons
When Jennifer asked her grandmother, "Is it (the cross) still there?" I didn't hear her reply to the four-year-old girl. But since she is a Christian, active in her parish and informed about the Christian faith, I believe that she gave a positive answer, "Yes, Jennifer, the cross is still there" or something like that. She could have said, "You can't see it, but it is still there and it will always be there. You have been marked by the cross forever." She would be right on both counts, of course.
For one thing, the cross of Christ -- the sign of God's new covenant with us in Jesus Christ -- is invisible. It cannot be seen with the naked eye; it was traced on our foreheads with a "bare" finger, or possibly with water or oil. It could not be seen at all, or not for very long, at best. The "mark" of the cross in baptism is not meant to be visible in the manner that the branding of cattle or other animals is intended so that they might be identified when the visible brand is seen. One of the National Geographic specials on television related the story of a study made of polar bears to learn how they are coping with the infringement of modern culture upon their environment. The hunter/scientists making the study used a helicopter to locate and anesthetize a large polar bear; they shot a "loaded" dart into the animal, waited until the bear was helpless on the snow and ice, and conducted their examination. They measured the bear, checked its teeth, took blood samples, and fitted it with a tracking collar, taking great care to allow for the seasonal weight gain that occurs in these animals during the summer. The last thing they did was spraypaint on the animal a large number 25 which was highly visible from the air, as they watched the animal regain its feet and run away. In contrast, the mark of the cross, God's covenant with us, is invisible and can never be seen with the naked eye.
It is quite possible that, in a relatively short time, depending on the type of paint used to "brand" the polar bear, that mark would become invisible; it might simply be worn off. In college, I joined a fraternity in the days when hazing was still in vogue; initiation involved many of the typical pranks done in those days -- taking the "pledges" out into the country, stripping them of most of their clothing and making them find their way back to town on their own, for example. But the unique part of the initiation rite of this fraternity was that the new members were actually branded with the letters of the fraternity which, they were told, would mark them for the rest of their lives. The procedure was that the person being initiated would be placed on his back after his shirt and undershirt had been removed; four "brothers" would hold him down while a stencil was placed on his chest, alcohol put in the cut out letters and ignited! The burn would heal quickly enough, if it did not become infected and it would be visible if only for a relatively short time; most of the "burns" were not too deep, so they disappeared after awhile. My brand is invisible, just as invisible as the sign of the cross that was (or should have been) traced on my forehead when I was baptized. The mark of the cross is still there on the foreheads of those who are baptized as a sign of death and new life in Jesus Christ, but it is and always will be invisible.
But the mark of the cross is also indelible. It is something like the "invisible ink" that children used to manufacture with their chemistry sets. It is indelible despite the fact that it has always been invisible because the death of Jesus Christ has burned it into our minds and souls. My "fraternity brand" faded away long ago, but the memory of that "branding" is indelible. The "cross-mark" of baptism -- the invisible sign of an execution that took place in public -- is indelible, because it is the mark of Jesus' suffering and sacrifice for the salvation of all people for all time. It is not simply a symbol of an abstraction; it is the sign that a man, Jesus, the very Son of God, actually was crucified outside the walls of Jerusalem. It is, to those who know and believe the gospel story, a sign that is traced in blood and can never be eradicated from the hearts and minds of those who believe that Jesus is the living Lord because the Holy Spirit has "sealed us" into a permanent relationship with the Lord.
Barbara Schmick, a liturgist who is associated with the Notre Dame Center for Pastoral Liturgy, and is also the mother of three children, tells how her three-year-old son became aware of crucifixes. He would stop, look at one, and declare, "Jesus is dead." She realized, after awhile, that he was making a "request," and was really seeking information, so she told him, "Yes, Jesus did die on a cross, but he rose from the dead. He is alive and with us still." This "sort of exchange went on for some time" and, then, one day he saw "a large outdoor crucifix" and said, ‘That Jesus is dead.' " Schmich continues, "Not knowing what to say any more and feeling a certain embarrassment at the poverty of our representations of the paschal mystery,… responded only, ‘Yes, he looks dead.' " She says that "he took my face in his hands and looked straight into my eyes, his own wide with sudden realization. He spoke in a hushed voice as if telling me a secret, ‘Maybe they don't know he's alive.' "6 That is why it is indelible; God burns the cross into our consciousness through the good news of Jesus' resurrection. The "mark of the cross" is "still there," as it was when we were baptized. His death and resurrection have made it indelible.
So, many initiated and informed people make the sign of the cross, retracing it on themselves, with water from holy water "stoops" or baptismal fonts when they enter Christian churches, as well as at various places in the worship service. Both chapels of Luther Northwestern Seminary have baptismal fonts inside the main entrances; both were planned to complement the size of the chapels. The font in the Chapel of the Incarnation is much larger than the font in the Chapel of the Cross. But both remind the people who enter the buildings that they were marked by the cross of Christ, invisibly and indelibly, when they were baptized.
A visitor asked me, on one occasion -- and I suspect that his question often goes unasked by visitors -- "Why does a theological seminary need a baptismal font? It is never used, is it?" My answer was that it really is used for baptisms, on occasion, when children of students and other persons may be baptized. But the fonts need to be there not only so that the liturgical appointments of the chapels will be complete, but to remind worshipers that they have been "marked with the cross of Christ forever," that they belong to God, and that what happens between the walls of our churches, as well as in the world, is his business. That's why the font is used by some people every day; many persons (students, staff, faculty, and others) dip their fingers into the water and retrace the sign of the cross on their foreheads, because they remember their baptism into Jesus' death and his resurrection. The mark of the cross is indelible; it cannot be washed away or removed by time because the very spirit of the risen Lord makes it indelible.
One other thing must be said about the sign of the cross that "marks us" in baptism; it is an illuminated cross. In a way, it is like the church where I grew up; it had an illuminated cross on the altar, constructed with a metal "frame-outline" that held white glass in place. Light bulbs inside the cross were responsible for illuminating it as a sign and message to all who worshiped there. It said two things to the members of that congregation every time they attended a worship service: 1, Jesus, in his death and resurrection became the true Light of the world, which no one or anything can extinguish; and, 2, "Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven."
I have a reading lamp by my favorite chair in our den which is a constant reminder to me that the cross is illuminated by our response to the redeeming activity of God in Jesus' death and resurrection. It is an obstinate "three-way" lamp; I often turn it on and it burns properly on the highest level for a time. But, too often, it will begin to flicker and one of the two elements will go out, so that I might think the bulb is burned out. If I unscrew it a bit and then screw it back into the socket, it often burns brightly once again but, before long, it may go out entirely. That lamp, which I suspect that I don't fix because it is something of a parable of the Christian life, reminds me that my "illuminated cross" has a tendency to flicker and go out, and that it takes the word and the Holy Spirit to keep it burning brightly through my life and witness in the world.
Cross-marked people are expected to live Christian lives of love and service that, as their sincere response to Jesus' death and resurrection, tell the world that God loves them, and that they, too, love all people. When we live as real Christians, the cross of Christ is illuminated. It lights up so that others may know that Jesus is Lord and has made us children of God again. Most of us were baptized as babies, too, but our lives should reflect that light as long as we live. Our part of the covenant is to live the Christian life as best we can, and so light up the cross for all the world to see. That cross, illuminated by the loving and dedicated service to the people of the world, becomes a sign of new life and the hope of the world in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yes, Christian, "the cross is still on your forehead." It always will be. God is the one who put it there, and though it is invisible, it is indelible and though it is a sign of death and darkness, it becomes what it really is, a sign of life and hope, a new covenant initiated by the God who created us in the first place. That cross is illuminated for others to see when we live out the covenant as children of God. Yes, children of God, that cross is on the head of every person who is baptized. Everyone who is baptized "in the name forever of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit" is marked with the cross of Christ forever." The cross is still there.
For one thing, the cross of Christ -- the sign of God's new covenant with us in Jesus Christ -- is invisible. It cannot be seen with the naked eye; it was traced on our foreheads with a "bare" finger, or possibly with water or oil. It could not be seen at all, or not for very long, at best. The "mark" of the cross in baptism is not meant to be visible in the manner that the branding of cattle or other animals is intended so that they might be identified when the visible brand is seen. One of the National Geographic specials on television related the story of a study made of polar bears to learn how they are coping with the infringement of modern culture upon their environment. The hunter/scientists making the study used a helicopter to locate and anesthetize a large polar bear; they shot a "loaded" dart into the animal, waited until the bear was helpless on the snow and ice, and conducted their examination. They measured the bear, checked its teeth, took blood samples, and fitted it with a tracking collar, taking great care to allow for the seasonal weight gain that occurs in these animals during the summer. The last thing they did was spraypaint on the animal a large number 25 which was highly visible from the air, as they watched the animal regain its feet and run away. In contrast, the mark of the cross, God's covenant with us, is invisible and can never be seen with the naked eye.
It is quite possible that, in a relatively short time, depending on the type of paint used to "brand" the polar bear, that mark would become invisible; it might simply be worn off. In college, I joined a fraternity in the days when hazing was still in vogue; initiation involved many of the typical pranks done in those days -- taking the "pledges" out into the country, stripping them of most of their clothing and making them find their way back to town on their own, for example. But the unique part of the initiation rite of this fraternity was that the new members were actually branded with the letters of the fraternity which, they were told, would mark them for the rest of their lives. The procedure was that the person being initiated would be placed on his back after his shirt and undershirt had been removed; four "brothers" would hold him down while a stencil was placed on his chest, alcohol put in the cut out letters and ignited! The burn would heal quickly enough, if it did not become infected and it would be visible if only for a relatively short time; most of the "burns" were not too deep, so they disappeared after awhile. My brand is invisible, just as invisible as the sign of the cross that was (or should have been) traced on my forehead when I was baptized. The mark of the cross is still there on the foreheads of those who are baptized as a sign of death and new life in Jesus Christ, but it is and always will be invisible.
But the mark of the cross is also indelible. It is something like the "invisible ink" that children used to manufacture with their chemistry sets. It is indelible despite the fact that it has always been invisible because the death of Jesus Christ has burned it into our minds and souls. My "fraternity brand" faded away long ago, but the memory of that "branding" is indelible. The "cross-mark" of baptism -- the invisible sign of an execution that took place in public -- is indelible, because it is the mark of Jesus' suffering and sacrifice for the salvation of all people for all time. It is not simply a symbol of an abstraction; it is the sign that a man, Jesus, the very Son of God, actually was crucified outside the walls of Jerusalem. It is, to those who know and believe the gospel story, a sign that is traced in blood and can never be eradicated from the hearts and minds of those who believe that Jesus is the living Lord because the Holy Spirit has "sealed us" into a permanent relationship with the Lord.
Barbara Schmick, a liturgist who is associated with the Notre Dame Center for Pastoral Liturgy, and is also the mother of three children, tells how her three-year-old son became aware of crucifixes. He would stop, look at one, and declare, "Jesus is dead." She realized, after awhile, that he was making a "request," and was really seeking information, so she told him, "Yes, Jesus did die on a cross, but he rose from the dead. He is alive and with us still." This "sort of exchange went on for some time" and, then, one day he saw "a large outdoor crucifix" and said, ‘That Jesus is dead.' " Schmich continues, "Not knowing what to say any more and feeling a certain embarrassment at the poverty of our representations of the paschal mystery,… responded only, ‘Yes, he looks dead.' " She says that "he took my face in his hands and looked straight into my eyes, his own wide with sudden realization. He spoke in a hushed voice as if telling me a secret, ‘Maybe they don't know he's alive.' "6 That is why it is indelible; God burns the cross into our consciousness through the good news of Jesus' resurrection. The "mark of the cross" is "still there," as it was when we were baptized. His death and resurrection have made it indelible.
So, many initiated and informed people make the sign of the cross, retracing it on themselves, with water from holy water "stoops" or baptismal fonts when they enter Christian churches, as well as at various places in the worship service. Both chapels of Luther Northwestern Seminary have baptismal fonts inside the main entrances; both were planned to complement the size of the chapels. The font in the Chapel of the Incarnation is much larger than the font in the Chapel of the Cross. But both remind the people who enter the buildings that they were marked by the cross of Christ, invisibly and indelibly, when they were baptized.
A visitor asked me, on one occasion -- and I suspect that his question often goes unasked by visitors -- "Why does a theological seminary need a baptismal font? It is never used, is it?" My answer was that it really is used for baptisms, on occasion, when children of students and other persons may be baptized. But the fonts need to be there not only so that the liturgical appointments of the chapels will be complete, but to remind worshipers that they have been "marked with the cross of Christ forever," that they belong to God, and that what happens between the walls of our churches, as well as in the world, is his business. That's why the font is used by some people every day; many persons (students, staff, faculty, and others) dip their fingers into the water and retrace the sign of the cross on their foreheads, because they remember their baptism into Jesus' death and his resurrection. The mark of the cross is indelible; it cannot be washed away or removed by time because the very spirit of the risen Lord makes it indelible.
One other thing must be said about the sign of the cross that "marks us" in baptism; it is an illuminated cross. In a way, it is like the church where I grew up; it had an illuminated cross on the altar, constructed with a metal "frame-outline" that held white glass in place. Light bulbs inside the cross were responsible for illuminating it as a sign and message to all who worshiped there. It said two things to the members of that congregation every time they attended a worship service: 1, Jesus, in his death and resurrection became the true Light of the world, which no one or anything can extinguish; and, 2, "Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven."
I have a reading lamp by my favorite chair in our den which is a constant reminder to me that the cross is illuminated by our response to the redeeming activity of God in Jesus' death and resurrection. It is an obstinate "three-way" lamp; I often turn it on and it burns properly on the highest level for a time. But, too often, it will begin to flicker and one of the two elements will go out, so that I might think the bulb is burned out. If I unscrew it a bit and then screw it back into the socket, it often burns brightly once again but, before long, it may go out entirely. That lamp, which I suspect that I don't fix because it is something of a parable of the Christian life, reminds me that my "illuminated cross" has a tendency to flicker and go out, and that it takes the word and the Holy Spirit to keep it burning brightly through my life and witness in the world.
Cross-marked people are expected to live Christian lives of love and service that, as their sincere response to Jesus' death and resurrection, tell the world that God loves them, and that they, too, love all people. When we live as real Christians, the cross of Christ is illuminated. It lights up so that others may know that Jesus is Lord and has made us children of God again. Most of us were baptized as babies, too, but our lives should reflect that light as long as we live. Our part of the covenant is to live the Christian life as best we can, and so light up the cross for all the world to see. That cross, illuminated by the loving and dedicated service to the people of the world, becomes a sign of new life and the hope of the world in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yes, Christian, "the cross is still on your forehead." It always will be. God is the one who put it there, and though it is invisible, it is indelible and though it is a sign of death and darkness, it becomes what it really is, a sign of life and hope, a new covenant initiated by the God who created us in the first place. That cross is illuminated for others to see when we live out the covenant as children of God. Yes, children of God, that cross is on the head of every person who is baptized. Everyone who is baptized "in the name forever of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit" is marked with the cross of Christ forever." The cross is still there.
