Take Up Your Cross and Follow Me
A Homily on Matthew 16:21–27
There is a story about a father whose young son became seriously ill.
For weeks, the father sat beside his son’s hospital bed.
He watched the nurses come and go. He listened to the machines beeping through the night. He held his son’s hand when the pain became unbearable.
And like any father, he prayed.
But his prayer was not complicated.
It was simply:
“God, give it to me instead.”
Over and over again:
“Lord, let me be the one who is sick.”
“Let me be the one who hurts.”
“Let me carry this instead of him.”
But he couldn’t.
And perhaps that was the hardest part.
He could hold his son’s hand.
He could wipe away his tears.
He could sit beside him through the night.
He could pray.
He could love him.
But he could not take away his cross.
And I think that story helps us understand Peter in today’s Gospel.
Because Peter loves Jesus.
When Jesus tells the disciples that he is going to Jerusalem, that he will suffer, that he will be rejected and killed, Peter cannot bear it.
He pulls Jesus aside and says:
“God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.”
In other words:
“Jesus, I won’t let this happen.”
“You don’t have to suffer.”
“There has to be another way.”
And haven't we all prayed that prayer?
“God, please don't let this happen.”
“Lord, heal her.”
“Lord, save my marriage.”
“Lord, protect my child.”
“Lord, don't let the cancer come back.”
“Lord, don't let him die.”
“Lord, please… there has to be another way.”
Peter’s mistake was not that he loved Jesus too much.
His mistake was believing that if God truly loved us, suffering should never be part of the story.
And Jesus responds with some of the strongest words in all of Scripture:
“Get behind me, Satan!”
Why so harsh?
Because Peter is tempting Jesus with the same temptation we all face:
Avoid the cross.
Choose the easier road.
Run from suffering.
Protect yourself at all costs.
But Jesus knows something Peter does not yet understand.
There are some things that can only be found on the other side of the cross.
Resurrection is one of them.
Jesus says:
“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”
Notice what Jesus does not say.
He does not say, “Understand your cross.”
He does not say, “Like your cross.”
He does not say, “Pretend your cross doesn't hurt.”
He says:
Take it up.
And follow me.
That means Christianity is not the promise of a life without suffering.
It is the promise that we will never suffer alone.
There is an enormous difference.
Some of us sitting here today are carrying crosses nobody else can see.
You smiled when you walked through the church doors this morning.
You shook someone's hand.
You said, “Good morning.”
You sat down in your usual place.
And nobody knows.
Nobody knows what kept you awake last night.
Nobody knows the conversation you are afraid to have.
Nobody knows the diagnosis you received.
Nobody knows what is happening with your child.
Nobody knows how lonely your marriage has become.
Nobody knows the person you are grieving.
Nobody knows how tired you are.
But God knows.
And maybe today Jesus is not telling you:
“I am going to take your cross away.”
Maybe he is telling you something even more important:
“I am going to carry it with you.”
Go back to that father sitting beside his son's hospital bed.
Eventually, he realized something.
He could not take his son's suffering away.
But his son never had to wake up alone.
Every time the boy opened his eyes, his father was there.
Every time he became afraid, there was a hand to hold.
Every time the pain became unbearable, there was someone beside him saying:
“I'm here.”
And perhaps that is one of the deepest meanings of the cross.
God did not remain safely in heaven looking down upon human suffering.
He entered it.
Jesus knows what it is to be afraid.
He knows what it is to be betrayed.
He knows what it is to be abandoned.
He knows what physical pain feels like.
He knows what grief feels like.
He knows what it is to cry out:
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Christianity does not give us a God who watches suffering from a distance.
It gives us a God with scars.
And those scars tell us:
“I have been where you are.”
Maybe that is why Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow him.
Because if we carry our cross long enough, we eventually discover that Jesus is already underneath it with us.
And then Jesus asks perhaps the most important question in today's Gospel:
“What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?”
We spend so much of our lives trying to gain the world.
A little more money.
A little more success.
A bigger house.
A better job.
More recognition.
More security.
And none of those things are necessarily wrong.
But one day every one of us will stand before God.
And on that day, God will not ask how impressive our résumé was.
He will not ask how large our bank account became.
He will not ask how many people knew our name.
Perhaps the questions will be much simpler.
Did you love?
Did you forgive?
Did you serve?
Did you remain faithful when it became difficult?
Did you carry the crosses of others when they could no longer carry them alone?
And perhaps most importantly:
Did you follow me?
Brothers and sisters, somewhere today there is a person sitting beside a hospital bed whispering:
“God, give it to me instead.”
Somewhere a parent is worried about a child.
Somewhere someone is grieving.
Somewhere someone is carrying a burden that seems far too heavy.
And perhaps that person is sitting right here.
If it is you, remember this:
You do not have to pretend the cross doesn't hurt.
You do not have to understand why it happened.
You do not even have to know how the story ends.
You only have to take the next step.
Because Jesus is walking ahead of you.
And when the cross becomes too heavy, look closely.
There is another set of hands beneath it.
His.
The hands that were pierced for you.
The hands that still bear the scars.
The hands of the One who promised that suffering would never have the final word.
Because after Good Friday comes Easter morning.
After the cross comes resurrection.
And after death comes life.
So whatever cross you carried into this church today…
Don't carry it alone.
Give Christ one end of it.
And then hear him whisper the same words he spoke two thousand years ago:
“Come. Follow me.”
Amen.
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