From Cross to Crucifix

Sitting alongside my daughter’s college textbooks was a paperback book entitled: Letters to a Young Catholic, by George Wiegel – an author unfamiliar to me. We were a faith-filled Protestant family and the thought of my daughter becoming Catholic was alarming! Upon my inquiries about the book, my daughter said it had been a gift and assured me she wasn’t interested in Catholicism. Relief flooded me.

Now fourteen years later, I’m Catholic and my daughter remains a faith-filled Protestant. What happened?? The catalyst was a “church search” amidst a cry for truth. I now see how the Catholic church offered answers at different points in my life, but it took decades for me to connect the dots.

In thanksgiving to Our Lord for bringing me Home, I have penned numerous devotional moments. Here is one of them:

From Cross to Crucifix

And he was crucified. — Luke 24:20 (GNT)

My devout evangelical parents witnessed my growing interest in the Catholic church and said little. After confirmation, I put off announcing to them that I was now a bona fide Catholic. Finally one day while sitting at their kitchen table, I mustered up the courage

They both nodded, seemingly nonplussed, and said, “Yes, we knew you were becoming Catholic.”  My mother’s lips then tightened in a particular way, revealing her discomfort with the topic.  But my parents’ dual sweet nature came through in their next words.

First Dad spoke about the Chinese exchange student they hosted who attended a local Catholic high school. Dad had leafed through her textbooks and was impressed by the faith-filled content.

Then Mom spoke. “I went on a silent retreat once,” she said. “It was held at a Catholic retreat center. I remember sitting there, silently gazing upon the crucifix and thought to myself, You know, that really is the right way to depict the cross – with Jesus hanging there, suffering. In this world, we experience so much pain and the crucifix speaks to that experience.”  My mother had endured some deep trials over the years — personal crosses — some of which she carried at that moment.  

Both my parents have now passed on, and I appreciate the big-hearted way in which they accepted my news. Like my mother, I too silently gaze upon the crucifix and see Our Lord — bruised and bleeding in body, soul and spirit — and I unite myself to Him in His sufferings.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the crucifix. It reminds us of your sufferings and comforts us in ours.