Lift High the Cross

A Reading from the Holy Gospel According to Mark
    Jesus and his disciples left from there and
    began a journey through Galilee,
    but he did not wish anyone to know about it. 
    He was teaching his disciples and telling them,
    “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men
    and they will kill him,
    and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.” 
    But they did not understand the saying,
    and they were afraid to question him.
    They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house,
    he began to ask them,
    “What were you arguing about on the way?” 
    But they remained silent.
    They had been discussing among themselves on the way
    who was the greatest. 
    Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them,
    “If anyone wishes to be first,
    he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” 
    Taking a child, he placed it in the their midst,
    and putting his arms around it, he said to them,
    “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me;
    and whoever receives me,
    receives not me but the One who sent me.”

    In July, my husband and I went on vacation with my family to California. Posing for a photo on a cliff over the sea, my husband was inspired to make a surf’s up sign with his hand. One photo wasn’t enough. Before the vacation was over, every picture was cowabunga dude. By the time we got home, the gesture was habitual. Though we’re back in Louisiana, far from the waves, he’s continued mindlessly throwing the famous pinkie-thumb combo on a regular basis. 

    Like my husband, I’ve become numb to signs, too. There is an image of a dying man in every room of my house, and though it should shake me, it often doesn’t. The crucifixes in my house, gilded and ornate, are as much a piece of décor as they are devotion. I’m so accustomed to seeing the cross—on someone’s necklace, over a doorway, in a curated collection of photos on Instagram—that I grow comfortable with it apart from what it signifies: sacrifice.

    In this gospel passage, Jesus tells the disciples that He will be killed and resurrected. The disciples, who do not understand what Jesus has just revealed to them, shrug off the news of the Lord’s impending passion and discuss instead who among them is greatest. Evidently, they have not grasped the lesson the Lord was trying to teach them. 

    The disciples do not yet understand the cross. This sign of suffering, death, and seeming defeat has become in God’s hands a source of hope and new life, a sign of greatness. The Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross that we celebrate this week proclaims this truth. The sacrifice on the cross that that Jesus foreshadowed to the disciples (and that they quickly dismissed) is the path to the greatness they seek. And yet this sign of greatness, this source of hope, this instrument of new life, remains bloody, ugly, and painful on this side of paradise. 

    In my own life, I find I’m much like the disciples. Cleaning the bathrooms has been on my to-do list for about a month now, but it’s my least favorite chore so I avoid it. Yesterday, I finally dragged myself down the hall to tackle the tubs and toilets. No bells rang as I made the herculean effort to get myself out of the chair where I was comfortably reading. No spring came to my step as I scrubbed rings from toilet bowls. The task sounded too off-putting to brag about afterwards, and it certainly didn’t have the aesthetic appeal for an Instagram post. But this is a moment of my life that will be exalted, not a great success, but a sacrifice. As I lift high the cross of my Lord, He invites me to glory in the crosses he bestows on me today.


About the Author: Alise Ruch was born and raised in Baton Rouge, grew up at St. George School and Parish and is a proud alumna of St. Joseph’s Academy. After graduating high school, she attended Furman University and received a Bachelor of Arts in French and a Master of Education through the Alliance for Catholic Education Teaching Fellows program at the University of Notre Dame. Alise has spent the past four years as a faculty member at St. Joseph’s Academy in the Campus Ministry and Theology Departments and was married in 2021 to her husband, Alex. When she isn’t working, Alise loves to spend time with her chickens, ride bikes to her favorite coffee shop (Magpie) and spend hours reading and exchanging philosophical musings.
What was the 1st CD (or cassette if you’re old school) you remember listening to as a kid? Celine Dion “That’s the Way It Is” on repeat
What book are you reading right now? Did you mean books? Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry, Three to Get Married by Fulton Sheen, and Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure
What food would you eat every day for the rest of your life? Avocados

Learn More About Red Stick Catholics

The Well is a weekly reflection series from Red Stick Catholics that was created to allow young adults from the Diocese of Baton Rouge to reveal how God is speaking to them through prayer and Scripture. Each reflection contains the upcoming Sunday’s Gospel, a reflection written by a young adult from the Diocese of Baton Rouge and prompts for how to pray with the Gospel and reflection during the week. If you are interested in writing a reflection, please email Nicole at [email protected].