The Brass Cross

Folks at the small rural church noticed a smeary spot on the brass cross that sat on the altar table.  The blemish was just beneath the horizontal bar of the cross.   Mel, a parishioner, volunteered to take it home and clean it.  He reported back to the congregation his efforts.  He   tried Brasso, which had been suggested to him.  That seemed to make matters worse.   He also tried tomato juice which was also suggested to him, but that didn’t help either.  The conclusion was that after 65 years, it was no surprise that the brass was showing its age.

When Mel had no luck removing the stain,  he looked into the cost of replacing the cross. The name of the company was on the bottom.  He was surprised to discover that that company was still in business. The cost of replacing that cross was nine hundred dollars, a cost beyond the church’s means. Even the cost of resurfacing it was five hundred dollars, also prohibitive.

Bob, a man in the congregation said to the pastor,  “Can you think of a good story about Jesus on the cross and that stain?”

 “What if we looked at it differently?”  the pastor asked.

 “How do you mean?”  Bob asked.

“Rather than thinking of that spot as a stain, think of it the hands of all the people, over sixty five years, who have reached out to be touched by the love of Christ.   Countless faithful people have touched that cross and lifted it,  just like Jesus was lifted up for all of us, and died for us.   He took on our sin, so that we could be made into new creations, forgiven and whole. We leave our transgressions at the cross, on the cross.

The stain on the cross is a collective hand print of all those who love him. Perhaps it is a good thing that the imprint of God’s people cannot be removed from the cross of Jesus Christ.   We are imperfect, and in that imperfection, we leave something of ourselves on the brass cross.

He is perfect and leaves something of himself in each one of us.”