There is a phrase in today’s reading from 1 Corinthians that stopped me this morning:
“We proclaim Christ Crucified.”
I know the verse is often translated, “We preach Christ crucified.” But today, I find myself wanting to use Paul’s other word: proclaim.
There is a difference.
Preaching can sound like an explanation. A sermon. An argument. Something one person says while another person listens.
But the kerygma—the Church’s proclamation—is something more fundamental.
It is the announcement of something that has happened.
Jesus Christ came among us.
He died for us.
He rose from the dead.
And He is alive.
That is the Gospel.
And suddenly, I find myself thinking about the crucifix hanging in my home.
I’ve heard many priests explain why Catholics place a crucifix in our homes rather than simply an empty cross. I’ve heard the theological explanations. I’ve heard the differences between Catholic and Protestant practice discussed.
But perhaps I’ve been thinking about it too much as an argument.
Maybe the crucifix isn’t there to argue with anyone.
Maybe it’s there to proclaim.
Every time I walk past it, I see the proclamation.
Christ crucified.
Not an idea.
Not a philosophy.
Not merely a set of moral teachings.
A Person who loved me enough to enter into my suffering and give Himself for me.
The empty cross proclaims something absolutely true: Christ has risen.
Catholics believe that with our whole hearts.
But the crucifix proclaims something else that I don’t want to forget:
This is what that love looked like.
I don’t want Easter to make me forget Good Friday.
I don’t want the Resurrection to become so familiar that I forget the wounds.
And perhaps that’s why I need a crucifix in my home.
Because there are days when I don’t need another explanation.
I don’t need another argument.
I don’t need someone to tell me to try harder, pray harder, or have more faith.
Sometimes I simply need to look at Christ crucified.
Because when I am suffering, the crucifix tells me that God has not remained safely outside of human pain.
He entered it.
He bore it.
He transformed it.
“We proclaim Christ crucified.”
Those aren’t merely words to be preached.
They are a reality to be proclaimed.
And sometimes the most powerful proclamation in my home is not something I say at all.
Sometimes it is the crucifix on the wall.
Christ crucified.
Christ risen.
Christ alive.
And Christ still with me.
— RN
Ex Scintilla Incendium
✨ From a spark, a fire 🔥
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