For the first time in 11 years, the sun set yesterday with the shadow of a cross spilling out into the Mojave Desert. After a long and bitter battle, the seven-foot veterans' memorial was finally back in its rightful place on Sunrise Rock. For the VFW, Liberty Institute, caretakers Henry and Wanda Sandoz, and everyone who fought to save the Mojave Desert Cross, it was the perfect way to celebrate Veterans' Day. Before a crowd of more than 100, supporters rededicated the cross to the memory of America 's fallen heroes. "Judges and lawyers may have played their roles," said Liberty attorney Hiram Sasser, "but it was the veterans who earned this memorial, and it is for them that it rises once more." For the legal team, the victory was a long time coming. In 2010, after nine years of defending the memorial in court, a majority of justices agreed to keep the cross on its remote patch of desert land. But before the Sandozes could reinstate the monument, it was stolen. Maybe the vandals thought hiding the cross could make it disappear from our collective consciences.
They were wrong. Plans were soon under way for another memorial. In fact, no one knew what had become of the old cross until last week when the San Mateo County Sheriff's office was called to a property in San Francisco Bay--hundreds of miles away. There, police found the object of years of litigation tied to a fence post. The attached note asked someone to contact the authorities. Although the discovery meant that the caretakers could return the original to its hilltop home, they opted for a new cross and a fresh start. Today, it crowns Sunrise Rock--not unlike the millions of crosses marking graves across our nation, each one reminding us of the great sacrifices made on our behalf. On this Veterans Day, we honor the brave men and women across the generations who served, and the many who laid down their lives in America's noblest cause: freedom. It is because of them that we can lift high this cross--and all others.
I am just beginning to dive into the beautiful, ancient devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus, and I wanted to share a bit of the journey with you. It can feel a little overwhelming at first to look at the Crucifix this closely, but I’ve found such a gentle guide in St. Bernard of Clairvaux . In his Jubilee Rhythm on the Passion, Bernard doesn't treat the wounds of Jesus as distant historical facts or sights to be avoided. Instead, he approaches them with the tenderness of a friend, speaking directly to the feet, hands, side, and face of our Lord. For someone like me who is just starting out, his rhythm teaches that prayer isn't just about reciting words; it’s a holy hide-and-seek. Bernard invites us to literally hide ourselves within these wounds, seeing them as clefts in the rock where we can find shelter when our own lives feel turbulent or heavy. As I start this process, I’ve been practicing what I call gazing and greeting. Following Bernard’s lead, I look at the Crucifix an...