My Cross

“I am spiritual, not religious,” yep, I was one of those people. 

I have a cross to prove it.  After I started my spiritual journey as an adult I had to do a lot of growing up before I could accept the crucifix.  I felt a bare cross was way more beautiful, inclusive and kept me far away from religious fanatics.  I remember mom taking a trip to Mexico and asking me what I wanted her to bring back and I said, “I want a wooden cross, but without Jesus on it.”  My mom, a devout Catholic, perhaps saw my shame for religious things even so she had a beautiful mahogany cross made for me.  I still display it on my bedroom wall because it reminds me of my journey back to the Catholic Church and of my mother’s tolerance as I overcame my shame for my roots and identity.

My most difficult student has severe depression and anxiety and instead of acknowledging that she needs help she blames everything on her parents.  She says her depression is caused because she lives in an apartment and her parents have minimum wage paying jobs and only speak Spanish.  Her mom constantly calls me to vent, most recently because her daughter is refusing to speak Spanish to them.  I work with this student and try to penetrate her shields and show her that there is no shame in humble roots, but she is stuck in Shameville.  I try to get her to take responsibility instead of play the victim, but she has found a resting place in her own shame.

Yesterday, I was looking at my bare cross, thinking about my journey out of shame and into accepting that I am religious after all.  My bare cross a reminder of my mom’s unconditional love.  Before I found God, I was equally insecure and sometimes ashamed of my humble beginnings including the religion that my parents had passed down to me.  “Catholic” sounded so definite and conjured so many negative associations to a former loving Nietzsche Agnostic, thus hiding behind a barren cross I felt progressive.  Yet, as I fell in love with Jesus and got to know my Catholic faith thru him, I found the greatest strength to make the leap out of shame.  On Good Friday we venerate the cross, in services all over the world each person comes towards the altar to honor the cross with a reverent touch or kiss.  It’s one of the times that you will see a barren cross at a Catholic Church, it’s such a special service to me because it reminds me of my transformation, who would have thunk that one day I would say, “I am spiritual and religious.”