The Cross: Our Victory and Our Vocation
Reflecting on the Cross as both victory over death and the path of love in the Orthodox faith.
Introduction
In the center of the Orthodox Christian tradition stands the Cross—not merely as a historical event or a symbol of suffering, but as the very axis of salvation, the throne of glory, and the pattern for daily life. On September 14th each year, the Orthodox Church celebrates the Feast of the Elevation of the Holy Cross, a solemn yet joyous occasion commemorating the discovery of the True Cross by St. Helen in Jerusalem and the liturgical act of raising the Cross before the faithful. For those on the New Calendar (Revised Julian), this feast fell a week ago Sunday; for those following the Old Calendar, it approaches in the coming week.
This feast is no mere remembrance but a proclamation of the Cross as the “weapon of victory” and the sign of God’s boundless love, as Fr. Anastasios Halas powerfully conveyed in his sermon at Saint Mark Greek Orthodox Church last week. Through his words and the timeless witness of Scripture, we uncover the centrality of the Cross in Orthodox life—a reality that speaks to every Christian heart amidst a world shadowed by pain.

Gaze Upon the Tree of Life
The Feast of the Elevation of the Holy Cross invites believers to stand at the foot of Golgotha, to gaze upon the “tree of life” where, as Fr. Anastasios declared, “death itself was defeated by death.” This is not a moment confined to history but an existential encounter, as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago. In the Gospel of St. John, we witness Pilate presenting Jesus to the crowd, only to hear the chilling cry, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” (John 19:6).
Humanity faced a choice then, and faces it now: to confess Jesus as King and Lord or to bow to the fleeting powers of this world. As Jesus Himself warned, “No one can serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24)—so to follow Christ we must make the daily decision to align ourselves with Christ and his kingdom over worldly distractions, demons and idols, the powers of this world, and our own fleshly tendency toward sin. Fr. Anastasios reminded his hearers that this decision is “not historical” but “existential every day,” urging us to reject the idols of comfort and pride in favor of Christ’s kingdom, whose throne is the Cross itself.
This unshakeable kingdom was proclaimed in mockery in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin on the inscription above Jesus’ head (John 19:20)—but its power transcends all boundaries of nation, language, and people. The Cross is universal, a beacon of light for all humanity, and we should follow the example of St. Paul who boldly states, “God forbid that I should boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Galatians 6:14).
In Orthodox theology, the Cross is transformed from an instrument of shame in the seat of glory itself—a truth vividly captured in the bright vestments worn during the feast, even amidst its solemnity. Fr. Anastasios emphasized this paradox with clarity: “The cross is not defeat, but victory.” It is through this victory that Christians find hope, even when the weight of personal struggles—loneliness, loss, or grief—threatens to overwhelm, for as Jesus promised, “In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
The Cross is a Personal Calling
Yet the Cross is more than a symbol of triumph; it is a personal vocation. Jesus Himself instructs, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23). In the Orthodox life, to follow Christ is to embrace the Cross through acts of love, forgiveness, service, and sacrifice. Fr. Anastasios taught that “the cross is not [merely] an event 2,000 years ago, it is the pattern of our existence as Christians.”
This daily bearing of the Cross unites believers not only to Christ but to one another, as seen in the tender moment when Jesus, from the Cross, entrusted His mother Mary to the beloved disciple John, saying, “Behold your son,” and “Behold your mother” (John 19:26-27). This act, Fr. Anastasios explained, was a mystical gift of community, ensuring that “no one carries the cross alone,” a reminder echoed in Scripture where we are called to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2).
In a world often marked by unspeakable sorrows, this assurance of divine and communal presence is a lifeline. We need not name the specific tragedies that haunt our newsfeeds or the sudden losses that shock our collective conscience. Yet we feel their weight—lives cut short by violence, communities left reeling, and a pervasive darkness that seems to mock the light.
Reflecting on such burdens, Fr. Anastasios shared a poignant story of a man standing before a church Cross, burdened by memories of past horrors and recent grief, asking, “Where is God when the world is filled with so much pain?” The priest’s response, pointing to the Cross, was simple yet profound: “He is there. The cross reminds us that God does not stand far away from our pain, but carries it with us.”
In the shadow of even the most unthinkable acts—such as the loss of a voice once raised in public discourse, silenced forever—Christ remains present, bearing our anguish on the wood of Calvary, just as He bore the sins of the world, for “He Himself is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the whole world” (1 John 2:2).
From Suffering to Hope
This presence transforms suffering into hope, for the Cross is not the end but the gateway to resurrection. As St. Paul writes, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18). The Orthodox Church, even in the solemnity of the Elevation feast, looks beyond the Cross to the empty tomb, knowing that Christ’s cry of “It is finished” (John 19:30) was not a lament but a declaration of completed salvation. Fr. Anastasios echoed this truth, proclaiming: “Evil does not have the last word. Love does, life does, Christ does.”
In a society often gripped by despair, the Cross stands immovable, a shield of hope against every storm, reminding us to reflect not on the darkness but on the light that pierces it, for “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:5).
The Cross, therefore, is both a historical reality and a living mystery that permeates every aspect of Orthodox Christian life. It is the lens through which we understand suffering, the anchor that holds us in times of trial, and the sign of ultimate triumph. St. Peter reminds us that it is the healing power of the Cross that restores broken humanity, because Christ “bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness—by whose stripes you were healed” (1 Peter 2:24).
In the Orthodox tradition, venerating the Cross during the Elevation feast is not an act of despair but of exultation, for it is the instrument by which Christ “disarmed principalities and powers” and “made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it” (Colossians 2:15). This victory is not distant but personal, inviting each believer to share in Christ’s redemptive work through their own crosses—whether they be personal losses, societal discord, or the silent grief over voices extinguished too soon.
Fr. Anastasios’s words ring true in this context: Evil does not have the last word, for the Cross ensures that no darkness can ultimately prevail against the love of God.
“Evil does not have the last word. Love does, life does, Christ does.”
- Fr. Anastasios Halas
The Foolishness of Power & the Power of the Foolishness of the Cross
Moreover, the Cross redefines power itself in the life of a Christian. While the world measures strength by dominance or success, the Cross reveals true power in humility and self-sacrifice. Jesus taught, “Whoever desires to be first among you, let him be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:27-28). In the Orthodox ethos, every act of service, every moment of forgiveness, and every sacrifice for another mirrors the Cross and becomes a participation in Christ’s victory over sin, death, and evil.
“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are being destroyed. But it is the power of God for those of us who are being saved” (1 Corinthians 1:18). This call may be countercultural, but it challenges us to reflect on how we respond to the brokenness around us—not with anger or despair, but with the quiet strength of crucified love, trusting that God works even through our weakness. As St. Paul discovered: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Conclusion
As we ponder the centrality of the Cross, let us consider these closing words of the sermon by Fr. Anastasios:
“Let us know with certainty that our salvation has been accomplished, that death has been defeated, that love has triumphed. And let us carry our crosses with hope, with joy, and with love, knowing that through the cross comes resurrection.”
These words are not a mere exhortation but a lifeline for every Christian attempting to navigate through the storm-tossed seas of this world.
To carry our crosses with hope is to trust that every small act of kindness, every moment of endurance, ever act of selfless love, participates in Christ’s victory. To carry them with joy is to see beyond suffering to the dawn of Pascha. And to carry them with love is to mirror the self-giving of Christ, who freely offered His life “for the life of the world.”
The Cross, then, is both our victory over sin and death and our vocation as bearers of God’s love—a dual reality that defines the Orthodox Christian life and calls every believer to reflect on its power to transform and heal even calloused sinners and wounded people barely hanging on. If this is our reality, then we can say with Saint Paul, “I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2).