A Reflection for the Friday of the Seventh Week of Easter (May 26, 2023). John 21:15–19. “Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep. Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.’ He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when he had said this, he said to him, ‘Follow me.’”
Jesus announces to Peter some unwanted news. As a young man, Peter had the freedom to live any way he wanted. The time would come, however, when he would lose his freedom. Someone else would dress him and take him to where he did not want to go.
The Gospel tells us that Jesus was foretelling the manner of Peter’s death. Tradition has handed down to us the manner of Peter’s death was by upside down crucifixion.
I hope I’m never crucified, especially head down.
In 2017, I was diagnosed with a rare neurovascular disorder called erythromelalgia (EM) and a neurological condition called small fiber neuropathy (SFN). EM produces intense burning and redness primarily in my feet, hands, and ears. When I say, “intense burning,” I mean the feeling of electrified acid coursing through my veins while my feet are being roasted in a campfire. SFN causes a nearly constant electrical tingling ache in my legs with a pins and needles sensation in my feet and elsewhere.
Dangling my legs ignites flares, so I elevate my legs nearly all day, every day. These syndromes make walking particularly difficult, so I have a wheelchair. When the chronic pain spikes, I need help putting my clothes on.
So, Jesus’ words to Peter resonate with me. Due to chronic illness, I, like Peter, have lost much of my freedom. The time has come for someone to dress me and lead me around. Unlike the fisherman, my situation isn’t leading me to my death. I’m not about to undergo crucifixion.
Or am I?
“Take up your cross and follow me.” Jesus’ call has the same unlikeable tone today as it did two millennia ago. Who wants to take up their cross? It’s one of the ghastliest methods of death fallen human minds have ever devised, but this is the offer Jesus extends to all who would follow him.
In 1Corinthians 1, St. Paul described Christ’s call to crucifixion as foolishness and a stumbling block. The logic of the cross confounds all we might be attracted to, yet that is precisely the path he took for himself. Why would we expect anything else for those who would follow his path?
Scripture affirms that through the sacrament of baptism, we become united with Christ in his crucifixion. “Or aren’t you aware that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death?” (Romans 6:3).
Union with Christ and his crucifixion occurs in baptism, and that death is expressed in our quotidian actions. “I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:19–20).
Crucifixion, then, becomes not simply an event that happened in the past but an ethic, a way of being-in-the-world. St. Paul put it succinctly, “I die daily” (1Corinthians 15:31).
Chances are, no one will ever pound spikes into my hands and feet. Nevertheless, I have been nailed to chronic conditions without my approval. In the enduring pain and all that it brings, I die daily. Dealing with this unenviable situation is the “stuff” out of which I am crucified with Christ.
How well am I dying daily? Am I able to maintain my faith as I suffer? Am I growing bitter to the world? Do I treat the people in my life with kindness, appreciation, and love? Or do I become a self-referential, bitter old man?
Dying daily involves extreme humility, patience, and trust. To die with Christ is a lifelong process. Through bearing my cross each day, I have a context to “work out my own salvation” (Philippians 2:12).
I often hear people with significant health challenges say, “I will not let it define me.” While EM and SFN may not define me, I cannot escape them. Even so, I can use them to deepen my faith, nurture my hope, and grow my love.
An objector may demur, “But that’s not easy.” No, it’s not. No one has ever suggested that crucifixion is easy. Jesus told Peter that he would be taken to where he did not want to go, and I certainly have no burning desire for my body to burn with neurological fire. That’s my cross. The Risen Christ assures me that although “you will be led to where you do not want to go,” there is a blessing by uniting my crucifixion with his. “For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his” (Romans 6:5).
Crucifixion was not the last word for Jesus — and it’s also not the end for us. As we near the end of the Easter season, may we remember that crucifixion with Christ leads to resurrection and walking in newness of life.
