The Exaltation of the Holy Cross 

To The Epiphany Community 

Ave Crux, Spes Unica! Hail, O Cross, Our Only hope! 
The Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross 
(24 Week in Ordinary Time, John 3:13-17, 14 September 2025) 

Eternal life was opened to us by the Paschal Mystery of Christ and faith is the way to reach it. This is what emerges from Jesus’ words to Nicodemus in the Gospel of the Evangelist John: And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life (John 3:14-15). The explicit reference to the episode narrated in the book of Numbers (21:1-9) highlights the saving force of faith in the divine word. During the Exodus, the Hebrew people rebelled against Moses and God and were punished by the plague of fiery serpents. Moses asked for forgiveness and God, accepting the repentance of the Israelites, ordered him to: make a fiery serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live. And so, it happened. Jesus, in his conversation with Nicodemus, revealed a more profound significance of this event of salvation, referring it to his own death and Resurrection: The Son of Man must be lifted on the wood of the Cross so that whoever believes in him may have life. St John sees precisely in the mystery of the Cross the moment in which the real glory of Jesus is revealed, the glory of a love that gives itself totally in the passion and death. Thus, paradoxically, from a sign of condemnation, death and failure, the Cross becomes a sign of redemption, life and victory, through faith, the fruits of salvation can be gathered. (Pope Benedict XVI, Homily, 2010) 

Dearly Beloved Brothers and Sisters in the Crucified Lord Jesus, On September 14, the Church unites in celebrating the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. For the followers of Jesus, his death on the cross was a moment of letting go, of saying goodbye, of reaching the end. At the sight of Jesus death, the disciples caved in grief; some lost hope, some disappeared into their former ways of life. The physical death of Jesus Christ became a farewell, a tragedy, a moment that seemed unimaginable and unforgivable. Today the Church cries out with ancient and solemn words: Ave Crux, Spes Unica! — Hail, O Cross, Our only Hope! At first, this sounds like a contradiction: How can an instrument of torture, once dreaded by the ancient world as a symbol of shame and defeat, be hailed as our hope? Yet this paradox lies at the very heart of the Christian mystery: what seemed the end became the beginning; what appeared a curse has become the blessing of the world. 

In the Gospel proclaimed, Jesus speaks to Nicodemus of a strange lifting up: As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up (John 3:14). The reference takes us back to the desert, to the people bitten by serpents, poisoned by their own rebellion, groaning in despair. Healing did not come from their own efforts, nor from medicine, nor from self-reliance. It came from a paradox: gazing upon the very image of their affliction—the bronze serpent mounted on a pole—they were healed. This is the logic of the Cross. Humanity, bitten by sin, poisoned by pride, condemned to death, finds salvation not by looking away from its wounds, but by looking directly upon the Crucified One who takes those wounds into himself. In Christ crucified, the poison of sin is absorbed and destroyed by the greater medicine of divine love. This is the great inversion of meaning: the logic of violence is undone by the logic of self-gift. The cross is not simply a tragic event, but a metaphysical turning point: Where human freedom reached its lowest point—rejecting the very Son of God—divine freedom revealed its summit: loving even unto death. The Cross, then, is not merely wood and nails; it is the intersection where finite misery meets infinite mercy, where history touches eternity. 

St. John dares to call this hour of crucifixion the hour of glory. Why? Because true glory is not the display of power but the perfection of love. In being lifted up, Jesus reveals both his abasement and his exaltation. The Cross is the throne from which he reigns, because it is the fullest manifestation of God’s essence: Deus caritas est—God is love. And so, we exalt the Cross today not as an ornament, nor as a relic of the past, but as the living sign of our salvation. Every crucifix hanging in our homes, every cross traced on our bodies at Baptism, Confirmation, and each time we bless ourselves, is a participation in this paradox of glory. Yet, brothers and sisters, this feast does not allow us to remain mere spectators. If the Cross is our hope, it is also our path: Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me (Mark 8:34). To exalt the Cross is to accept its imprint on our lives: to forgive when it costs, to love when it is inconvenient, to remain faithful when it is difficult. In our own lifted-up moments of suffering, when we are exposed, humiliated, or powerless, Christ invites us not to flee but to believe that through the Cross, life—eternal life—opens before us. Therefore, let us say with the Church across the centuries, with saints and martyrs, with all those who have clung to the Cross as their final anchor of hope: Ave Crux, Spes Unica! Hail, O Cross, Our only Hope! 

The Cross of Christ: A Portrait- The Cross stands at the intersection of philosophy and theology, of human reason and divine revelation. It is not only a historical event but a metaphysical turning point, a symbol, and a sacrament of divine love. To contemplate the Cross is to enter into a paradox that resists simplification: death that gives life, defeat that is victory, folly that is wisdom. 

The Cross as the Intersection of Time and Eternity- The Cross is a locus of encounter between finite history and infinite eternity. On a particular Friday afternoon in Jerusalem, the eternal Logos entered into the extremity of temporal suffer-ing. The Cross is thus the point where history finds its axis: before it, anticipation; after it, transformation. It is the hinge of human destiny, where eternity bent low into time to lift time into eternity. 

The Cross as the Revelation of Truth- Reason seeks truth, but often conceives of it in terms of clarity, order, and strength. The Cross shatters this expectation. Here, truth is revealed not as a proposition but as a person crucified. Christ on the Cross is the epiphany of truth as love. As St. Thomas Aquinas affirmed: the Cross is the summa demonstra-tion of God’s charity, more eloquent than any syllogism. In the crucified Christ, truth is disclosed as self-giving fidelity even unto death. 

The Cross as the Triumph of Love Over Violence- From a philosophical lens, the Cross unmasks the logic of violence. Human societies preserve themselves by exclusion, scapegoating, and the sacrifice of the innocent. Christ, the Innocent One, unmasks this mechanism by accepting the role of victim without retaliation. In so doing, he breaks the cycle of vengeance and reveals that only love — not retribution — has ultimate power. 

The Cross as the Glory of God- The Cross is not God’s defeat but his glory. In Johannine language, to be lifted up is sim-ultaneously humiliation and exaltation. God’s glory is not worldly splendor but self-emptying (kenosis). Here the divine essence is unveiled: Deus caritas est — God is love (1 John 4:8). The Cross is God’s self-definition written into history. 

The Cross as the Form of Christian Existence- The Cross is not merely Christ’s destiny but the Christian’s form. To be configured to Christ is to be conformed to the Cross. Philosophically, this means that authentic human existence is not found in self-preservation but in self-gift. Theologically, this means that discipleship is cruciform: If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me (Mark 8:34). The Cross is both the shape of salvation and the shape of sanctification. 

The Cross as Eschatological Victory- Finally, the Cross is not the last word but the penultimate. It is the door to Resur-rection. Without Easter, the Cross would remain an absurdity; without the Cross, Easter would remain a spectacle. To-gether, they disclose the deepest structure of reality: love is stronger than death, and life emerges from sacrifice. The Cross thus stands as an eschatological sign — already victorious, yet awaiting its full manifestation when God will be all in all (1 Corinthians 15:28). 

Summary Conclusion the cross of Christ now stands in our hearts, giving meaning to our suffering, our anguish, our flawed humanity. The sign of death is now a true sign of hope. We lift Christ’s cross as a sign of mercy and peace within our individual and communal suffering. The Resurrection changed death into a passage into eternal life. 

One thing has proved true: We die as we have lived. When we have enjoyed life, found love in it, opened ourselves to its flow of good times and bad, we usually find the same in the dying process. Those who have fought life, who always see themselves as the victim, who struggle to forgive and let go, encounter the chaos of the cross until the last breath. Some of us lift high the cross of Christ and some of us cannot bear such a notion. 

As we celebrate the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, we are invited to encounter the reality of what we proclaim. We can-not gloss over this feast or leave it on the altar. It is an invitation to discover our heart’s desire; a profound and loving moment in which we encounter Christ Jesus’ redeeming love for us. 

It is a time to let go of all that ails our conscience, all that triggers our fears, all that keeps us self-reliant or self-obsessed. This feast is at the heart of what we believe and what we base our life upon. This close-up view of the cross of Christ brings each one to our knees in prayer and silences us on many days and pray: 

We adore you, Lord Jesus Christ, here, 
and in all your Churches throughout the whole world, 
and we bless you, for by your holy cross 
you have redeemed the world. (Saint Francis of Assisi) 

Fraternally, 
Fr. John Peter Lazaar SAC, Pastor