Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross John 3:13–17
Fr. Jijo Kandamkulathy CMF Claretian Missionaries
Today we celebrate a feast that stands at the very heart of our faith—the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. At first glance, it may seem paradoxical. Why exalt a symbol of suffering, humiliation, and death? Why lift high the very instrument by which our Lord was crucified? And yet, in today’s Gospel, Jesus himself gives us the key to understanding this mystery. Speaking to Nicodemus under the cover of night, he says: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”
This is not merely a poetic metaphor. It is a profound theological statement that connects the Old and New Testaments in a single thread of salvation. In the Book of Numbers (21:4–9), the Israelites, plagued by venomous serpents due to their rebellion, were instructed by God to look upon a bronze serpent mounted on a pole. Those who gazed upon it in faith were healed. That serpent, a symbol of death transformed into a source of life, prefigures the crucified Christ—lifted high not only on the wood of the cross but in the eyes of all who dare to believe.
Jesus, the Son of Man, descended from heaven not to condemn the world, but to save it. And the means of that salvation was not a triumphant display of power, but the willing embrace of suffering. The cross, once a tool of Roman execution, becomes in Christ the axis of redemption. It is not the avoidance of pain that saves us, but the transformation of pain into love. This is the scandal and the glory of the cross.
Let us pause here and reflect: why does Jesus compare himself to the serpent? Isn’t the serpent the very image of evil in Genesis? And yet, in Numbers, the bronze serpent becomes a sign of healing. This paradox is intentional. Jesus takes upon himself the full weight of sin—not by becoming sinful, but by becoming the very image of sin, as Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:21: “He made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” On the cross, Christ absorbs the venom of the world’s hatred, betrayal, and violence, and does not retaliate. He transforms it into mercy.
This is why the cross is exalted. Not because suffering is good in itself, but because Christ has shown us that suffering, when united with love, becomes redemptive. The cross is not a glorification of pain—it is a glorification of love that does not flee from pain. And this has profound implications for our own lives.
Each of us carries a cross. Some are visible—illness, loss, injustice. Others are hidden—loneliness, anxiety, spiritual dryness. The world tells us to escape suffering, to numb it, to deny it. But the Gospel invites us to look upon the crucified Christ and see that pain can be a pathway to grace. When we lift up our own crosses—not in bitterness, but in faith—we participate in the mystery of redemption. Our wounds, united with his, become sources of healing for others.
This is not easy. It requires a radical reorientation of how we see the world. It requires us to believe, as Jesus said, that “everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” Belief here is not mere intellectual assent—it is trust, surrender, and imitation. To believe in the crucified Christ is to follow him, even when the path leads through Gethsemane and Golgotha.
And yet, this path does not end in death. The cross is exalted because it points beyond itself. It is the gateway to resurrection. The serpent lifted up in the desert saved the Israelites from physical death. The Son of Man lifted up on the cross saves us from eternal death. This is the promise that animates our faith: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”
Notice the language: God so loved the world. Not just the righteous, not just the faithful, but the world—the broken, the rebellious, the lost. The cross is the ultimate declaration of divine love. It is not a weapon of condemnation, but a banner of salvation. “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.”
So today, as we gaze upon the cross, let us not see merely a symbol of suffering. Let us see the triumph of love over hate, of mercy over judgment, of life over death. Let us bring our own crosses to the foot of his, and ask for the grace to carry them with faith. Let us remember that every pain, every trial, every moment of darkness can become redemptive—if we unite it with Christ.
And let us never forget: the cross is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of resurrection. It is the tree of life planted in the soil of suffering. It is the throne from which Christ reigns—not with coercion, but with compassion.
Jesus uses three discouraging conditions to follow him in the gospel today: (1) Hate your father and mother, (2) Renounce all your possessions, (3) Take up one’s cross and follow. These are suicidal conditions for any leader to place to one’s followers. These discouraging demands can be understood only in the context of the final journey of Jesus to Jerusalem.
As I have mentioned often, the pilgrimage of Jesus to Jerusalem begins from the time Jesus sets his face to Jerusalem (Luke 9: 51). As the journey progressed from Galilee through the villages and towns, it was gathering more and more people and Jesus was worried, that those following hm might have misunderstood the purpose of his journey. He is dissuading them, by clarifying the purpose and hardships of this journey. He was worried they have taken hasty decisions without knowing the consequences of their choice to accompany him. The metaphors of going for a war or building a tower are to indicate the gravity of the pursuit of the Kingdom of God following Jesus.
The followers seems to have imagined the defeat of Herod and Pilot, the takeover of Jerusalem and the reestablishment of the Davidic Kingdom. Jesus, of course knew that this is a different ball game. He was sure from the transfiguration moment that he would be killed in Jerusalem. It is in this context Jesus makes the three dissuading statements.
Hating father and mother. This journey is quite dangerous. Jesus knew, he would not survive but who else will lose their lives? Did he know about it? Not sure. But he was definitely worried about it. It is possible that they might not return. When he was getting arrested, at the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was making sure, that no one else should be arrested and he told them, if they were looking for him, let his companions go. He was worried about their safety.
The usage of the term, cross might have been very ominous to the listeners. It had only one meaning. The cross was carried by those who sentenced for crucifixion. As mentioned earlier, Jesus was worried, together with many others might get crucified. He was not telling them about any metaphoric cross. He was talking about a real cross and he would be the one to take it first. They would have to follow them. Metaphorizing the cross as burdens of life has taken away from us, the sense of the impeding peril that Jesus was predicting to all of them. John would write in his gospel that many followers left his company on the way. He mentions it because of the difficult teachings. Well, that teaching included offering the possibility of a crucifixion for those who followed him to Jerusalem.
Jesus also asks about renouncing all possessions before undertaking the journey. There are no metaphors here. He was talking about renouncing their possessions for real, not about things that a person considers precious, real land and property because they were embarking on a journey that he was not sure if they would ever return. If people regretted later about poverty and lack of resources on the way, then, there was no point of beginning this journey. We can easily remember the journey of Israel through the desert of Sinai. They regretted leaving Egypt, because they missed the food and comfort of Egypt. Jesus was reminding them to renounce the possessions, nearly legally, meaning write off their possessions to those staying behind.
In other places, particularly in Luke, there is little reference to renunciation. It is always about sharing. Here, the renunciation is not for sharing, but leaving the properties behind because they might not be able to return to claim them. This is not because of the love or compassion for the poor. It is just renunciation of the riches possible only for those who have found worth in the pursuing the Kingdom of God.
Understanding that journey in a real sense does not take its present metaphoric meanings. The journey could be well taken metaphorically for our personal faith journeys or that of our societies. Societies our times have changed their life styles. Children who live with elderly parents are becoming fewer, especially in the context of large migrations happening inter-hemispherally. The oldies often have someone else other than their children caring for them by the end of their lives. Loving parents, as the most precious relationship on earth is not found true in many cases, now. I hate to say this. But this reality is just on us. The number of parents who love their children more than anything else is also on the decline. A lot more adjustments in family life would have taken place, if the parents really cared for their children. I am not talking about maintaining abusive marriage relationships. I am talking about the silly reasons on which some divorces are initiated.
Crosses have their metaphoric meanings as well. We find more and more people stressed and worried in our times. The ratio of depression and mental illnesses in societies are climbing due to the inability of the people to come to terms with the crosses people have to carry. Resilience in bearing pains – the pain threshold – is pretty low. There is a need to learn to embrace the sacrifices we have to make for living a purposeful life.
The invitation of Jesus is to live for a sublime purpose. If we have clarity on the purpose only, we will be willing to sacrifice, our precious relationships, our precious possessions and embrace our crosses. The one who is not convinced of a sublime purpose, or living without purpose will not be able to forgo any present convenience for a future advantage. This question challenges me to the core: “What is the purpose for which I am willing to sacrifice everything I have?”
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