A Lenten Pilgrimage with
Jesus:
Deny Yourself, Take Up Your Cross,
And Follow Me
by Father Gerard Beigel, S.T.D.
The season of Lent is commonly seen as a time when we take stock of our lives and attempt to turn to the Lord Jesus with renewed vigor and faith. While this popular understanding of Lent is certainly not wrong, we must be careful not to accent our effort and doing, but rather allow the Lord's grace and authority to accomplish the conversion and renewal of our hearts. It is not really we who take stock of our lives, but the Lord who takes stock of us. He does this in that singular way in which he has always scrutinized the lives of people since his coming into our history 2000 years ago—by placing his cross before our gaze.
As we begin Lent, we would do well to imagine the entire six-week period as overshadowed by the cross of Jesus. It is not we who draw near to Christ, but he who draws us to him as he is lifted up in our sight. "And I, when I am lifted up, will draw all men to myself" (John 12:32). The truth of Lent is that we are journeying six weeks towards the Passion, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. The more we live in the truth of this journey, the more the cross of Christ will overshadow our lives. The cross of Christ—in its naked and sobering simplicity, in its power to strip away pretensions, illusions and deceit, and in its glory for the transformation of our lives. The truth of Lent is that as we journey towards this encounter with the cross of Christ we will be challenged by the Lord to embrace his cross in our lives—actually, to participate with all our being in Jesus' passion and death. This journey toward the cross and a living participation in Jesus' Passover is the same journey that the twelve disciples made with Jesus as they walked with him towards Jerusalem. In this essay, let us strive to place ourselves in their situation as Jesus prepared them for the mystery of the cross.
"From then On, Jesus Began to Teach that He must Suffer":
The disciples' introduction to the mystery of the cross first took place on the road to Caesarea Philippi, as Jesus questioned them, "who do you say that I am?" (Matt 16:15) Up to that point in the gospel, the disciples had witnessed the miracles and teaching of Jesus. They knew that some of the Jewish leaders opposed him, but after seeing Jesus multiply bread and calm storms on the sea (Matt 14:13–33), the disciples must have felt that God would never deliver Jesus over into the hands of his enemies. When Jesus questioned the disciples, "who do you say that I am," Peter answered without hesitation: "You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God!" (Matt 16:16) Jesus immediately praised Peter for this response, declaring that these words did not come to Peter from man, but were revealed to him by God the Father. But the Lord went on to speak to his disciples for the first time about the mystery of his suffering and death:
Peter opposed these words so strenuously that he even presumed to correct Jesus on the spot: "Lord, this shall not happen to you!" Jesus, in turn, rebuked Peter, "get behind me, Satan!" What was at stake here with regard to Jesus' suffering is precisely the question of who he is and the question of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. The mystery of Jesus' identity (who he is) is truly inseparable from the mystery of his work on the cross. Jesus is indeed the Messiah, but a Messiah who suffers. Moreover, no one can receive this revelation of Jesus as the Messiah who suffers on the cross without following in his footsteps. Thus, when Jesus rebuked Peter for resisting the mystery of his suffering, he immediately turned to all his disciples and told them that if they wanted to be his disciples, they had to follow him in the way of the cross:
These words of Jesus are among the most well-known sayings of the gospels. However, it is one thing to be familiar with the words, it is another thing entirely to accept them and to live them. We know that the first disciples resisted Jesus' words. As they journeyed with the Lord towards Jerusalem, they were completely unready for the scandal of the cross. But the only way that they could have been ready for the crucifixion of Jesus is by deciding to share in his rejection and his suffering. To know Jesus Christ and the power flowing from his cross, we must listen, understand and obey the words of the Lord: deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me. Let us therefore ponder the meaning of each of these three counsels.
Deny Yourself!
When Catholics listen to Jesus' word, "deny yourself," they frequently think of the heroic penitential acts of the saints—long vigils of prayer, days and weeks of fasting, enduring physical discomfort, living under austere conditions, or enduring violent opposition and persecution. Actually, however, these heroic acts of virtue and the endurance of suffering do not give us the most helpful perspective for understanding what Jesus meant by the command, "deny yourself." To understand Jesus' words, instead of looking at the heroic acts of another person, we need to begin by looking into our own soul and seeing the ruinous patterns of sin that dominate our lives. How can we understand what it means to "deny yourself," unless we look inside our souls and see precisely what are the thoughts, words and deeds that alienate us from God and His graces. What Jesus is asking us to deny is precisely the patterns of sin in us that have built up what is truly a "false self." If we are to follow Jesus Christ, this false self that is dominated by sin must be "put off" and "crucified." This is what it means to "deny yourself."
The primary effect of sin upon any human being is to isolate the person from God and from others. Sin breaks relationships with God and with those around us. Even so-called "private" sins—when someone does something that no one else knows—have a profound impact on our ability to relate to others. For example, if I give in to a fit of anger in a room all by myself and begin to destroy some of my personal possessions, I have not directly attacked any other person. But although this sin is "private," it nonetheless affects my ability to relate to others in an open and honest way. By giving in to anger, I have allowed this sin to take root in my heart, and I have thereby predisposed myself to be angry in other situations, where other people will undoubtedly be affected by my anger. So all sin, including private sins, damages our relationships with God and others.
As sin damages our relationships with others, it likewise corrupts our human nature, our very identity as human beings. We are created for communion and love with God and others. A person who lives for God and others will be a generous and self-giving person. But the primary effect of sin is to make us self-centered, even selfish, rather than generous. In this way, sin actually builds up a "false self," manifested especially in the illusion that we are individuals who don't need others—individuals who can be completely "independent." As modern culture turns further and further away from God, we see more and more individuals who embrace this "ideal" of selfish independence as the primary goal of their lives. Even Christians can be tempted to embrace this selfishness. The fact of the matter is that when we sin, we will suffer the effects of sin—broken relationships, selfish ways of relating to others, and perhaps even a warped desire to be completely independent.
St. Paul was well acquainted with these destructive influences of sin upon the human person. That is why in his letters, as he exhorts Christians to live freely and fully for Jesus Christ, he always goes to the heart of the problem—the need we have to "put off" the "false self" that arises from sin. Here is a characteristic passage, from the letter to the Ephesians:
This exhortation of St. Paul exemplifies Jesus' command to his disciples to "deny yourself." The very first step we must take as we attempt to live for Jesus Christ is to "deny" and "put off" the "old self" that is dominated by sin. We cannot follow Christ without first confronting and turning away from the "old self" influenced by the desires and deceits of sin. Paul even declares that this "old self" must be "crucified": We cannot give any room to selfishness and think that it is still possible to follow Christ. The ego-centric self must be crucified, so that Christ may become the new center and Lord of our life: "I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, Christ is living in me" (Gal 2:19).
Take Up Your Cross:
Jesus' second directive about discipleship, "take up your cross," is known by most Christians, but, once again, there is a difference between knowing and understanding a word of the Lord. Just as Catholics frequently misinterpret the word, "deny yourself," by focusing on external acts of denial, rather than the interior "putting off" of the "old self," so, too, there is a similar misunderstanding of Jesus' counsel to "take up your cross." Many Catholics presume that taking up our cross means accepting stoically whatever bad things may happen to us in life. The problem with this interpretation is, once again, that it focuses our attention on an external state of affairs—something bad happening to us. To see the basic problem with this interpretation all we have to realize is that there are many bad things that happen to us that God doesn't want us to accept! For instance, if a person is sick and God wants to heal the person, it would be wrong for the person to hold on to the sickness as his or her "cross." Another example might be a mother whose son has rejected God and is abusive to his mother—it would be completely wrong for the woman to think that this behavior of her son is her "cross" that she must embrace. On the contrary—she should pray for the son's complete conversion and transformation in Christ! A third example illustrates how badly Jesus' word, "take up your cross," can be misunderstood. Some Catholics, frustrated over their continued struggles with some pattern of sin such as anger or gossip, conclude that these things are just "part of their personality" and the "cross" that they have to accept. But this is absurd! Our "cross" can never be, and must never be, our sin!
What then did Jesus mean by saying, "take up your cross?" The answer to this question has to be sought on the level of the interior life of a mature Christian. In order to understand and live out any word of Jesus, we have to allow the word to penetrate and form the very depths of our hearts. So, let us begin by cutting off the common misunderstandings of this word about the cross. Taking up our cross does not mean looking for some external trial to keep us from being too "comfortable." It does not mean enduring bad things stoically. Nor, especially, does it mean putting up with our sin. Once we reject these ways of understanding Christ's word about the cross, we must look to the place of the cross in Jesus' own life. Jesus himself is the model we must look to in order to understand and live out any of his words.
When we look to Jesus to understand his word about the cross, we see immediately that in his own life the cross was the very heart and summit of God's work in him. The gospels portray the whole life of Jesus as a journey to the cross—but note, especially, that this journey was completely under the guidance of the Father. Jesus' thinking about the cross was completely ordered under his relationship to the Father. Christ did not need to seek any external burden to embrace; all he desired and needed was to embrace the Father's will to give himself for the salvation of the world. In living out this radical obedience to the Father, Jesus was able to embrace the cross that came to him. The key to Jesus' ability to take up his cross was thus his knowledge of God's will for his life.
If we apply this insight to our own lives, before there is any consideration of taking up our cross, we have to know what is God's will for our own lives. It is impossible to take up our cross, unless we first know and treasure the will of God for our particular lives. Let us consider an example of a husband whose wife is unfaithful. The husband must know deeply in his heart the will of God for his marriage. He must grasp God's will that he be an instrument of grace, of forgiveness, and of healing for his wife. If the husband has this interior grasp of God's will, he will be able to embrace the cross of enduring his wife's behavior—praying, suffering and working for a transformation of the situation through the grace of God. In this situation, "taking up your cross" for the husband would not mean just stoically enduring his wife's behavior. The key is that his cross is precisely where God is working to bring about repentance, healing and transformation. This means that the husband constantly has to seek wisdom from God how to respond to each new challenge that arises in the relationship with his wife. Sometimes he may be quiet and wait for God to work, sometimes he may be led to speak directly to his wife and challenge her, or sometimes he may fall on his knees before God and beg God to work. This seeking of God's will in all these difficult situations is precisely what it means to take up one's cross. The Old Testament prophet Hosea faced such a struggle with his unfaithful wife. His suffering and his radical cleaving to God's will within his suffering exemplify exactly what it means to embrace one's cross. Taking up our cross is nothing less than embracing the suffering that comes to us as we strive to fulfill God's will in our lives. Again, the key to this is that we first have to know what is God's will for us. But if we truly know God's will for our lives, it will be a deep joy to embrace the cross that comes in the struggle to fulfill His will. Taking up our cross is never something "bad" for us, but the very path that leads us to our greatest fulfillment and happiness in the will of God.
Follow Me!
The third part of Jesus' command to his disciples is the word, "follow me." As we saw when considering the preceding two words in Jesus' saying, this command is also commonly misunderstood. The tendency of many Catholics who try to obey Christ's word, "follow me," is to focus upon the external actions of Jesus and then to try to copy them in one's own life. People will try to be generous to others, or kind to others, or loving to others—just as Jesus was. Once again, however, if we are to understand and fulfill any word of the Lord, we must first allow the word to penetrate our heart and form our interior life and attitudes. The imitation of Christ is the most fundamental spiritual requirement in the task of following Jesus. But this imitation is not an external imitation—for example, in the way that a young boy will imitate and copy the moves of a skilled basketball player. Rather, the imitation of Christ is first and foremost the interior conformation of our hearts and minds to the heart and mind of Jesus. Out of this interior conformation to Christ, our thoughts, words and deeds will then truly imitate the goodness, truth and beauty that is in Christ.
The interior imitation of Christ is a work of grace within us. A faithful and profound life of prayer is both the beginning and end of this grace of imitating Jesus. We cannot begin to be conformed to Jesus Christ without prayer. Prayer involves the most radical opening of the depths of our being to God's light and power. Again and again in the gospels, we see how Jesus formed his disciples in the life of prayer. It is certain that the most striking thing about Jesus to his disciples was not his miracles or teachings, but the fact that these things and the Lord's whole life demonstrated that he knew God. As the disciples gazed upon Jesus, the first work of imitation that grew in them was the desire to know God just as he did. "Teach us to pray," they begged Jesus. And so he taught them to call upon the Father and to relate to the Father just as he did—"Abba! Hallowed be your name" (Luke 11:1–2). Only as we enter into and experience the love, trust and union that binds Jesus and the Father—only as we do this in living prayer, will we begin to understand what it means to imitate Christ. The most fundamental aspect of Jesus' identity and work was his abiding relationship with the Father. Jesus' word, "follow me," is, therefore, first and foremost a call to discover this blessing of prayerful union with his Father that is at the very heart of his whole life and ministry.
As we begin our imitation of Christ by entering into his relationship with the Father through prayer, the grace of imitation will grow within us by repeating in us the same work of the Father that is manifested in Jesus. As the Father proclaimed to Jesus at his baptism, "you are my beloved son" (Luke 3:21–22), so He desires to witness to our whole being that we are His beloved son or daughter. As we lay hold of our sonship in a deeper way, we will receive the same authority over sin and the devil that the Father poured out upon Jesus (see Luke 4:1–12). The freedom of being a son or daughter of God and empowered to resist evil will then lead us to a deeper discovery of our specific calling from the Father. In and with Christ, we will begin to see ourselves as "servants" of the Father, anointed with the Spirit, and sent "to bring glad tidings to the poor and to proclaim liberty to captives" (Luke 4:14–19). This path of imitation and conformation to Jesus will ultimately lead us to our own trials and sufferings in being faithful to God's will and call upon our lives. In and with Jesus, we will be asked to lay down our life and to surrender ourselves completely to the will of the Father.
To reach these heights of the imitation of Christ, our prayer and union with the Father must grow ever deeper throughout our life. That is why the summit of the imitation of Christ is prayer itself. When Jesus confronted the treachery, the betrayal, the abuse and challenges of his passion, the only thing that would sustain him was his union with the Father. As we serve God and encounter challenges and suffering in our own lives, we will need to imitate Jesus in this depth of prayer. Each of us knows how helpless it can feel to be in a situation where we are surrounded on all sides by darkness and do not know what God wants us to do. The wisdom, patience and direction we need in these situations can only come through prayer. We can say, therefore, that Jesus' word, "follow me," means that we must walk behind him in all the situations of our lives. But in particular, the word, "follow me," means to abide in prayer in the relationship that Jesus had with his Father in heaven. When we are rooted in the life of Christ and the Father, we indeed have the grace that will sustain us in our every need.
Conclusion:
At the turning point in his public ministry, as Jesus moved from the ministry of teaching and miracles to the preparation for his passion, he unveiled to his followers in a pithy saying the very heart of discipleship. "Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me." During the season of Lent as we seek the renewal and deepening of our union with Christ, we would do well to ponder continuously the three parts of this simple but profound saying.
Each part of the Lord's word calls us to a deeper interior union with him, but in a different way. The command, "deny yourself," calls us to put off the "false self" that we construct in our surrender to sin. Our old self has truly been crucified with Christ, so that Jesus may reign in our hearts. "Deny yourself" means to put off every attitude and temptation whereby we would allow this self-centered "ego" to dominate our hearts and minds. "Deny yourself" also means consciously "putting on" the new man or woman who is created in the image of Christ the Son of God.
Jesus' command, "take up your cross," calls us to a deeper union with him through knowing and fulfilling the will of God for our particular life. As Christ knew and obeyed the Father's will that he give himself for the salvation of the world, he took up and embraced the cross that came to him in the fulfillment of this will of God. We, too, are called by God to give ourselves in love to Him and others in some particular way. As we obey this call, we will face challenges and suffering that come to us precisely as we strive to fulfill God's will. In and with Jesus, we are called to take up and embrace these crosses.
The third part of the Lord's command, "follow me," calls us to enter into his abiding and life-giving union with the Father. Like the first disciples, we must gaze upon Jesus each day and contemplate the blessing at the heart of who he is—his immense openness to the Father's love, and his own reciprocal and radical love of the Father. The word, "follow me," is an invitation for us to discover, embrace and abide in this abyss of life, love, goodness and beauty that eternally unites the Father and the Son. The source and summit, the beginning and the end, of this grace of following and imitating Jesus Christ is nothing else than experiencing his own abiding life of prayer with the Father.