Symbols and signs are important in so many ways. Practically, they help us navigate the road systems of our cities, by using clear images they tell us where we are and where the rail station is situated, where we can find a toilet, the location of our favourite coffee house and countless other things.

 The great faiths have their own symbols. The Star of David is treasured with the Jewish people, the Star and Crescent denotes Islamic Faith, and for Christians the Cross affirms our presence. The transformation from a sign of shame in Roman times, to becoming the symbol of our Redemption through the death of Jesus on the cross has a significance that is central to our faith.

 That is what makes the current organised programme that is being instituted in parts of China even more worrying. Reports in the press detail the rise in destruction. “So far more than 1,200 crosses have been removed, activists say. Several churches have been completely demolished”.

 For what purpose? To what end? 

 Many Christian prayers begin and end with the Sign of the Cross, a finger-tip pattern that we trace on ourselves with the words, ‘Father, Son and Spirit’. Our rosaries and prayer beads include the symbol of a small cross and in numerous other ways that sign, that symbol, is important to us. Whatever the suggested reason for its removal from display, its significance cannot be overstated. There have been instances where the wearing of a small cross in the work place has been deemed unsuitable lest it be offensive to others and the wearers have been sanctioned.

 In other parts of our planet, across the Middle East and parts of Africa, where there is strife and conflict, Christians face persecution for proclaiming Christ through their acknowledgement of the Cross. They deserve our respect and our prayer.

 The problems that arise from such overt attacks on  people through religious symbols to which we attach great importance, should make us ever-more sensitive to the sacred symbols of others, our manner of speaking about them, our illustrations and our references to their way of life. Earlier this month France marked the first anniversary of the attack on the office in Paris of the satirical magazine, Charlie Hebdo, with the loss of twelve lives. That was in consequence of illustrative material that had been published in earlier editions that caused upset and offense. Yet violence in response can never be justified.

 It is the shadow of the cross that has hovered over Europe and many parts of our Earth for 2000 years. It is an integral part of our Christian Faith. We talk about “the crosses that we have to carry”, the difficulties and stress that are part of our human condition. But that burden is something that we do not carry alone.

 “Lord, strip me of all I carry; strip me of everything that prevents me from carrying my Cross and when I am stripped be there to sustain me”   Tenth Station: Jesus is stripped - Walk with me 1994 pub McCrimmon.

 That small wooden cross on the end of a string of prayer beads, worn smooth by familiar touch, and the simple gesture we make when we bless ourselves, are indeed shadows of our faith. Early crucifixes sometimes showed not a Christ in agony but a risen Lord in glory. We should remember that the shadow of the cross gave way to the light of the Resurrection.

 The story recounted in the Gospel narrative of Simeon being coerced into sharing the load of the Cross on the road to Calvary, is not without importance to us. Just as the good Lord helps us to carry the burden of our daily lives, so should we also be willing to help others when the going is rough.

 In the Migrants Camp on the edge of Calais, there is a rough and ready church, marked by a wooden cross. The present structure was built after a fire destroyed the first church. It was built on a larger scale, with whatever came to hand. 

 Giles Fraser, writing in the Guardian last year said that:

 “It now rises up as a landmark within a community of tents, among piles of plastic waste and rubbish, next to a standpipe for fresh water. Forget those fancy churches that end up being museums for the 1% – this is a holy place. As I sat in the corner, a succession of worshippers – Ethiopian or Eritrean – came in to pray some wiping their hands over a poster of an angel and then wiping them over their heads. One man comes in on crutches, his leg broken. He fell trying to jump on the train. But the people who built this church are now in England, he tells me, with a triumphant twinkle of the eye”. It is that crude architecture that is surmounted by a simple wooden cross, a symbol of faith

The Emmaus road we walk is never deserted. We meet  with other people, maybe stop for a chat or just say “Hello” in passing.  At other times, the contact is greater and the care we show is appreciated. ‘Walk with me’ is more than just walking, it is about sharing. Sharing a problem over a drink in a coffee house, listening to a story, allowing hands to touch in a gesture of comfort, moments of prayer, all is part of our pilgrim journey. 

 Somewhere in the writing of Henri Nouwen he recounts the story of sharing grief with others. Fine words are not easily found and even if they can be spoken, they are often not heard by a suffering listener, but the silent caring hug and the still presence of just ‘being there’ can say so much more. Let’s take more care when we bless ourselves, and others, with the sign of the cross.

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