The Triumph of the Cross

Today was the feast day of The Triumph of the Cross. For the first time in a long time I went to mass last night, the Saturday vigil. I don’t usually go on Saturdays because I have a personal problem recognizing it as the “Sabbath.” The “problem” arises because I usually work on Saturdays, and so, I haven’t “rested”. I went, because I was visiting Mom and she likes to go on Saturdays. However, she wasn’t feeling up to it, so I went by myself. Now, Sunday is a different kettle of fish, so to speak. I am in the habit of getting up early on Sunday and going to either the 8 AM or the 10 AM mass, depending on how fast I can get my act together. Then I spend the rest of the day either meditating on the mass, going to the forums on Catholic.com to learn more about my Church, or visiting Mom and the rest of my family. This is a fairly recent habit—ever since Lorenzo started doing the yard work I used to do on Sundays. But I digress. I don’t know if it’s because I went to confession and said my rosary before mass or just the Holy Spirit filling my mind for His own purposes, but during the mass I kept focusing on the crucifix and trying to understand how anyone who truly believes in Jesus Christ and calls himself a Christian isn’t moved by the sacrifice Christ made for us. I tried to pay more attention to the mass, but my eyes kept returning to the crucifix and the wounds Christ suffered for ME. I was getting choked up every time I thought of His wounds. Each time I looked at the cross, I tried to see the cross again for the first time, as though I was truly at Calvary (which is exactly where we are at every mass!). I looked at Jesus’ suffering, His cruel death, and His resurrection as something He did for ME (and does at every mass), something that brings me new life, no matter how bad the problems I may think I am facing at times.