The real offense

Ah, a new day. A fresh day. A day of recovery.

I'm not going to write about sports today. I'm not. I could, but I'm not. There. Said it. Not gonna do it.

Instead, I'll write, I think, about the kid who was told to take off his cross in the Colorado middle school because it offends.

Oh, that's almost too easy. It offends.

Of course it offends. It offends me. I should offend you. We took an honest, sinless man and crucified him on that cross. Why on earth wouldn't it offend, make me feel guilty, make me feel, well, something?

I now that's not what the issue at the middle school is. But that's piddling stuff. It's not wearing the cross that should be offensive to whomever. It's what's inside the cross, buried beneat clothing and beneat flesh and beneath bone. It's what heart is below that should be offensive. Because the heart the beats for Christ alone should be offensive.

I don't mean it shouldn't love. Above all else it should beat with a rhythm of pure love. But it should offend because that life should be clearly one lived for Christ. Ultimately that's what the world can't stand. That's what the Master of Lies wants to snuff out.

Oh, I could write about how in a two-hour span my sports teams gagged, but I'm not. Instead, I'll write about the privilege of bearing the cross as much as wearing the cross.

Remember what Jesus, who taught us what love really was, said: "On hearing it, many of his disciples said, "This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?" Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, "Does this offend you? What if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before!"

A man came, loved, died, was reborn, ascended. Does that not offend our senses? That's what many can't grasp.

Little crosses on chain? Kid stuff.