Submitted by Laura Metzger from the Village Church
Village Church has a wall of crosses in our Fellowship Center – crosses purchased by people of the congregation when they were travelling to various places throughout the world. If you’ve never stopped by to look at it, it’s worthwhile to do so. The wall has crosses of various styles—wooden, ceramic, carved, mosaic, painted, simple, ornate. They come from different countries, different cultures, different hands. No two are exactly the same, yet all point to the same shape, the same story. Lent invites us to slow down and look at the cross again—not as decoration or symbol, but as reality. A reality that has been carried, interpreted, and lived by people across the world and across centuries. Each cross on the wall represents a place where faith met suffering. A place where someone learned that following Christ is not abstract. It costs something. It always has. The materials may differ—olive wood, iron, ceramic, stone—but the weight is familiar. Jesus’ cross stood in one place at one moment in history, yet its shadow stretches everywhere. It stretches into refugee camps and quiet chapels, into bustling cities and hidden villages. It stretches into our own lives, where grief, sacrifice, love, and hope intertwine. As we look at this wall of crosses, Lent poses a personal question: Which cross am I carrying right now? Not in comparison to others. Not minimized or exaggerated. Just honestly named.
For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. [Colossians 1:19-20]
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