Readings:
Numbers 21:4b-9
Psalm 78:1bc-2, 34-35, 36-37, 38
Philippians 2:6-11
John 3:13-17

This Sunday we celebrate the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. The origins of this feast go back to the 4th century, when St. Helena, the mother of Emperor Constantine, traveled to the Holy Land and, through excavation near Calvary, uncovered what tradition holds to be the true Cross of Christ. A great basilica was later built over the site of Jesus’ crucifixion and tomb—the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. From that time on, Christians have celebrated this day not only as a memory of a discovery, but as a proclamation of the heart of our faith: that through Christ’s death and resurrection, God has brought salvation to the world.

But what does it mean for us to “lift high the Cross” today? Certainly not what history sometimes made it mean: carrying the Cross into battles, using it to conquer, or imposing it on others. Nor is it reduced to hanging crucifixes on walls or wearing crosses as ornaments. To exalt the Cross today means something deeper: to show the world, through our lives, that Christ’s love heals.

Jesus spoke of the Son of Man being lifted up, just as Moses lifted up the bronze serpent in the desert. Whoever looked upon it was healed from the serpent’s bite. In the same way, when we lift our eyes to Christ on the Cross, we discover healing from the poison of sin, hatred, and despair.

On the Cross, God shows His true face—not as a harsh judge but as One who takes our suffering into Himself, transforming it by love. This is why the Cross is both humiliation and glory: humiliation in human eyes, glory because it reveals who God really is.

There is a danger, however, in how we relate to the Cross. We see it in the temptation of Christian nationalism, where the Cross is used as a banner of power, identity, or exclusion. But the Cross is never a flag to wave over others. It is not a weapon to dominate, nor a tool to draw boundaries of “us” against “them.” Whenever Christians do this, we betray the very One who died on the Cross for all.

Instead, Christianity is called to be like leaven in society—quiet, small, but powerful enough to transform the whole dough. The Cross heals like the serpent in the desert: not by striking down enemies, but by drawing the gaze of the wounded and giving them life. In our world poisoned by division, violence, nationalism, and fear, the Cross offers an antidote: reconciliation, compassion, forgiveness.

To lift high the Cross today means: standing with the wounded: with refugees, the poor, the sick, the excluded; healing with mercy: countering the poison of hatred and lies with truth spoken in love; witnessing hope: refusing to let fear or ideology replace the Gospel of self-giving love.

Brothers and sisters, the Cross is not a symbol of conquest, but of healing. Not a mark of domination, but of love stronger than death. To exalt the Cross is to make visible Christ’s mercy in a broken world.

Let us lift high the Cross, not by imposing it, but by embodying it: healing wounds, building peace, forgiving enemies, and proclaiming by our lives that God so loved the world that He gave His only Son. Amen.