How often do we wear the cross? Not a cross, but the cross. A cross might be a piece of jewelry, such as a necklace, symbolizing our faith as a Christian. Nothing wrong with doing that! However, it’s just decoration unless the words or actions of the one wearing it reflect the Spirit of the One who first wore the cross. Wearing the cross is when someone sees Christ in you, regardless of what jewelry we may or may not be displaying. Wearing the cross of Christ is when our words or actions demonstrate an attitude of kindness, sacrifice, or mercy that goes beyond what normal human behavior would likely demonstrate.

              Around 3:30 on the afternoon of Wednesday, March 5th, I left the Denman building in Nashville to make my way to Braden United Methodist Church. I had accepted an invitation to lead their Ash Wednesday service because their part-time Local Pastor had an out-of-town work obligation. I packed my laptop, some files, and zipped up my backpack. I also carried with me a leather portfolio which contained a single page of printed notes for the message I would offer before imposing the ashes. I walked to my vehicle and placed the portfolio on the roof while I opened the door and put my backpack on the back seat. I opened the driver’s door, sat down, buckled up, started the car, set the GPS for Braden UMC in Fayette County, and drove off.

              About two blocks away, on a skinny two-lane street just off the Vanderbilt campus I heard a small thump above my head. I wasn’t sure what it was, but as I glanced in the rear-view mirror, I saw a single piece of white paper floating in the breeze. I realized the sound I had heard was the portfolio, still on the roof of my SUV, opening as I had picked up speed, and thus my sermon notes had been cast to the wind.

              As a car passed me going in the opposite direction, I did a quick scan to see if I could stop safely and not block traffic on this narrow road. I was able to do so, hopped out of my vehicle, and jogged back to see if I could track down my blown-away homily. To my surprise, the driver of the car that had passed me saw what happened and stopped to help. It was a young woman, likely a student, and she had stepped on the paper to capture my escaped Ash Wednesday exhortation. She stooped down to pick it up as I approached. Winded, I said, “You are an angel, thank you so much.”

              As she stood up to hand me the now apprehended page of preacherly pontification, I was startled by what she was wearing on her face. Besides an angelic, sweet smile, she bore the sign of an ashen cross on her forehead. She must have noticed my slightly astonished expression and asked, “Everything ok?”. I said, “Oh it’s more than ok…it’s Divine. I happen to be a pastor and I’m on my way to a church to lead an Ash Wednesday service, for which you just rescued my sermon notes, but I see you’ve already been to one.” She smiled again as we each turned to go back to our vehicles, ending a twenty-second encounter that left my heart strangely warmed.

              You may think that reporting such an encounter as somewhat trite, but it gave me a much-needed boost of positive, Holy Spirit energy. I don’t believe it was some mystical force that caused this series of events to unfold so I could receive a Divine blessing. I think it was the result of an absent-minded, in-a-hurry preacher who did something boneheaded and got lucky. But these days, we need to claim random acts of human kindness as worthy of God’s praise when we cross paths in the crowded ways of life.

              There is a hymn by Frank Mason North that contains an echo of my encounter. The title is “Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life”. The two closing stanzas proclaim, “O Master, from the mountainside, make haste to heal these hearts of pain; among these restless throngs abide, O tread the city’s streets again. Till all the world shall learn your love, and follow where your feet have trod; till glorious from your heaven above shall come the city of our God.”

              I did not get the name of this young woman who stopped to help me. I didn’t take a selfie with her. I don’t have an address to send her a note of gratitude. All I have is a precious memory that reminds me it is one thing to wear a cross of gold, diamond, or ashes. But it is more authentic to wear the cross with your whole being. As we continue our Lenten journey to the cross, I pray it will cross your path in the crowded ways of life, and remind you that the love of Christ is always waiting to be revealed, if we are just willing to offer it in all the ways we can.

Forward in Faith…