Put it on a pole
Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on Holy Cross Day + Sunday, September 14, 2025
Attention boys and girls. What is this? A fly fishing pole! Anybody used a fishing pole? We use one here on special days. We hang ribbons on it and use it in the procession. I remember buying it at a bait and tackle store. I said I needed a fly fishing pole for ceremonial purposes!
In our first reading today, the people have turned against God. And snakes are biting them as punishment. They want to be healed and forgiven. So God tells Moses to take a snake made out of brass—and put it on a pole. When the people look up at it, they would live and not die.
By the fifth century Christians were putting a cross on a pole and carrying it in procession. Today is the feast of the Holy Cross. It commemorates St. Helena finding what she and others thought was part of the true cross. Since then, Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Episcopalians and Lutherans celebrate Holy Cross Day.
Put a cross on a church. Or around your neck. Tattoo it on your body. And it means different things to different people. These days there are very different ways to follow Christ and honor the cross.
During the crusades, Christian fighters carried a cross into battle against the Muslims. Today, some have a cross in one hand and an American flag in the other, two poles juxtaposed. For some, this represents a Christian faith that is superior to others, rejects diversity, and wants to whitewash our history, downplaying darker parts of our country’s story, especially slavery and the subjugation of Native Americans. James Cone, a liberation theologian, wrote about the cross and the lynching tree. They were both shameful events for despised members of society. Yet both reveal the terrible beauty of God’s presence in the most godforsaken of circumstances.
The cross can be used for good and ill.
And yet. In our worship space we have a processional cross on a pole. Many of us bow as the cross passes. We join Christians through the ages in making the sign of the cross on our bodies, a practice endorsed by Martin Luther. On Good Friday we offer gestures of reverence to a wooden cross as the sign of victory and healing. And we trace a cross with oil on foreheads—at baptisms and in healing rites.
Maybe there are just rituals we do by rote. Without giving it much thought. Yet today, on Holy Cross day, let’s consider some deeper meanings. The cross extends in four directions. With four points. So I will make four points.
First, to honor the cross is counter-cultural. Not an American flag on a pole. Not a dollar sign on a pole. Not an iPhone on a pole. Not a Cubs emblem on a pole. A cross. A sign of God’s solidarity with all people, especially those oppressed, especially those suffering. As one writer says, the cross isn’t about remaining passive and fearful. Or admitting defeat. It is about shaking things up. Rattling the system to its core. “The cross is about enduring whatever might happen to us when we confront, resist, and protest the injustices we see around us.” (Debie Thomas) Let’s admit it, honoring the cross is weird. Paul calls it a stumbling block, but for us, the power of God and the wisdom of God.
Second, the cross is God’s love for the world. Some put John 3:16 on a sign, a pole, a placard. I suspect for some, John 3:16 celebrates that they have the truth in Jesus, and will be saved from hell, so get on board. I love John 3:16 and could put it on a pole. For me, though, it means something different: God’s love for the entire world. God’s desire to save the world which is John 3:17. Moses put a serpent on a pole as a sign of forgiveness, healing, and life. When Jesus is lifted up from the earth, he draws all people to himself. The cross is a sign of an unfathomable love not just for some, but for all people, and for the earth itself.
Third, the cross is beauty. Paradox. The great reversal. The path to life is death. Surrender. Letting go. Mystery, beyond our rational minds. The bulletin cover shows the 12th century mosaic at St. Clement’s church in Rome. The cross is the tree of life, extending to all directions, connecting heaven, earth, all creation. Artists, musicians, poets, and hymnwriters help us to ponder the cross anew with images and metaphors. The cross is the ladder of Jacob. The burning bush. Ark for the flood. The blossoming staff. The fruitful vine. The bronze serpent. The door of paradise. The pillar of the universe. Healer of the sick. Sign of triumph. “None in foliage, none in blossom, none in fruit your equal be,” the text of an ancient hymn. A second century preacher says: “This cross is the tree … nourishing and delighting me. I take root in its roots. I am extended in its branches … its flowers are my flowers; I am wholly delighted by its fruits.”
Fourth and finally, the cross calls us to a cruciform life. As Richard Rohr writes, the cruciform life is “living in the center of the world’s pain . . . recognizing Christ crucified in every suffering soul and body we encounter, and pouring our energies into alleviating that pain. It means accepting—against all the lies of our culture—that we will die. And then choosing to live our lives with the very passion of Christ.
Many are troubled by the increased political violence in our country. Though many of us may not have resonated with the views of Charlie Kirk, some on the right are calling this their George Floyd moment. Are we able to refrain from hate and retribution, and express compassion and empathy? How will we get out of this downward spiral? The arms of the cross reach out in mercy to our weary world. In our helplessness, anger, and grief, God suffers with us and share the anguish of these days.
In the end, like our faith, the cross is mystery. What it means is hard to put into words. Death and resurrection. Despair and hope. Endings and beginnings. We gaze at the cross on a pole. For us, the tree of life.
Holy God, you come as one among us, and we behold your glory. Your power. Your wisdom. Your beauty. God the crucified. Yet we behold you living.
