The Lifted-Up Love

Num 21:4b-9, Psalm: 77, Phil 2:6-11, Jn 3:13-17

Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ, on this glorious Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, we are presented with a profound paradox: the instrument of brutal execution becomes the very source of our eternal life. Today, the Church invites us not to shudder in horror, but to gaze in wonder and hope.

Our journey begins in the desert with the Israelites. Weary, impatient, and faithless, they are afflicted by serpents as a consequence of their sin. Yet, God in His mercy provides a curious remedy: a bronze serpent lifted high on a pole. All who looked upon it in faith were healed. This was a mere foreshadowing, a symbol of the salvation to come.

Saint Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, reveals the stunning reality behind that symbol. He presents us with the breathtaking humility of Christ Jesus, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself… he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” The Cross is not a sign of defeat, but the ultimate expression of a divine love so profound it willingly embraces utter humiliation for our sake.

This brings us to the heart of today’s Gospel, where Our Lord Himself connects these threads. “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert,” Jesus says, “so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” The Cross is lifted high not as a reminder of death, but as a beacon of life. It is the ultimate revelation of God’s heart. “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.”

The Cross, therefore, is the definitive answer to the problem of sin and suffering. It does not explain suffering away; it transforms it from within. By embracing it, Christ sanctified all human suffering. When we are weighed down by our own trials—be it illness, anxiety, loneliness, or failure—we are not looking at a God who is distant from our pain. We look upon a God who has already been there. We can make the sign of the cross not as a somber gesture, but as a declaration that our suffering, when united to His, takes on redemptive value.

As Saint Augustine beautifully preached, “The serpent was lifted up for destruction, Christ for salvation. The former so that those who believed might escape death; the latter so that those who believe might inherit eternal life.”

Dear friends, in our daily lives, the Cross invites us to two things. First, to look up. To intentionally gaze upon Christ crucified with the eyes of faith, especially in moments of temptation and despair. In that gaze, we find healing, just as the Israelites did. Second, it calls us to reach out. The love we receive from the Cross is not meant to be hoarded. It compels us to pour ourselves out in humble service to others, to “empty ourselves” in love for our family, our neighbors, and even our enemies.

Pope Francis reminds us, “The Cross is the word through which God has responded to evil in the world.” It is the proof that love is stronger than hate, hope stronger than despair, and life stronger than death.

So let us exalt the Holy Cross. Let us glory in it. For in its holy wood, we find our comfort, our strength, and our certain hope. It is the radiant throne of our Lifted-Up Love, the promise that from every death, God can bring forth glorious, eternal life. Amen.