In today’s gospel when Jesus says: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Mt 16:24-25) – what did you hear? Because of the way we use the expression in everyday language, I think a tendency to think of “our cross” is to focus on nagging health concerns, local traffic, or difficult coworkers or relatives, and similar events in our lives. Bit of a metaphor. 

For Jesus’ first hearers, the cross was not a metaphor at all. It was a horrifying public reality. It represented Roman power at its most brutal: humiliation, shame, and a death reserved primarily for slaves, rebels, and those the empire wanted to make examples of. When Jesus first spoke these words, no one in the crowd would have thought of daily travails, church steeples, or even salvation. They would have imagined a more horrific end. After the Resurrection, Christians saw the cross in an entirely new light: the place where God’s love conquered sin and death. 

We are modern people, believing people and these words appear in an ongoing dialogue about discipleship. While suffering can certainly become part of discipleship, that is not what Jesus primarily means. Notice the context. Immediately before this saying, Peter has rebuked Jesus for speaking about his coming suffering and death. Jesus replies: “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” (Mt 16:23) Only then does he say: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” The cross is not simply something that happens to us. It is something we choose because we are following Christ.

Think of it this way: to take up one’s cross is to choose to embrace whatever faithfulness to Christ requires, even when it is costly. Taking up one’s cross is an act of fidelity – that may well bring suffering, misunderstanding, or sacrifice. But the suffering itself is not the cross. The fidelity is.

I think there are several forms of “taking up the cross” that are particularly relevant in the twenty-first century. In an age of polarization and misinformation, telling the truth can carry real consequences. In an age of social media refusing to spread gossip or even more, interjecting to stop the gossip can have repercussions.

In a world that often celebrates convenience the Gospel celebrates covenant. That means remaining faithful to one’s spouse, aging parents, difficult children, a religious vocation, and priestly promises. These can become a genuine carrying of the cross. Not because those people are burdens, but because love remains faithful when it would be easier to leave.

Think about forgiveness. That can be a cross, one you have to choose to take up. Or living simply in this age of consumption where the culture says acquire more. Faithfulness is choosing generosity over accumulation; contentment over consumption; and stewardship over possession.

What about loving the unnoticed, the one no one else visits, a spouse with dementia, quietly serving in parish ministries and other examples of hidden fidelity when we choose to embrace whatever faithfulness to Christ requires of us. No applause. No recognition. Just love.

Being grateful and hopeful. Not normally associated with “taking up the cross,” but are there not times when it is challenging to continue believing that reconciliation is possible, that goodness matters, and that Christ has conquered death. Cynicism is easy. Gratitude and hopefulness take effort. They take practice.

I think “taking up the cross” is sustained by habits that train us to let Christ, rather than the ego, occupy the center of our lives. These include:

• Daily prayer that teaches us to say, “Not my will, but yours.”
• Regular examination of conscience, where we surrender the need always to be right.
• Frequent celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which is itself an act of humility.
• Eucharistic participation, where we receive the One who first carried the cross.
• Hidden acts of charity that seek no recognition.
• Fasting, not merely from food, but from resentment, constant distraction, or the need for approval.

These practices shape the heart so that, when the costly moment of discipleship comes, we are prepared to choose fidelity.

One thing that strikes me is that Jesus does not say: “Endure whatever crosses life gives you.” He says: “Take up your cross.” Something that is active, deliberate, and voluntary. In an age, every age perhaps, people are tempted to arrange life around self-preservation and advancement. And maybe a simple way to understand “take up your cross” is this: “Choose faithfulness over self-preservation.”

“Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Mt 16:25)

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Image credit:RomanNerud | iStock photo ID:2239554065 | downloaded Aug 7, 2026 | std iStock license