The Sunday of the Holy Cross falls on the third Sunday of Great Lent, right at the midpoint of the fast. On this day the cross is brought out into the middle of the church and placed before the faithful for veneration.
Think of it as a rest stop on a long journey. You’re halfway through Lent. You’re tired. Maybe you’ve stumbled in your fasting or prayer rule. The Church knows this. So she brings out the cross to remind you why you’re doing any of this in the first place.
Why Now?
The timing isn’t random. By the third week of Lent, most people are feeling the weight of the fast. The initial enthusiasm has worn off. Easter still feels far away. The Church, in her wisdom and pastoral care, gives us the cross at exactly this moment to strengthen us for the second half of the journey.
But this isn’t just about encouragement. It’s about reorienting our vision. We can get so focused on our own struggle, what we’re giving up, how hard it is, whether we’re doing it right, that we forget the point. The cross reminds us that Lent isn’t about our achievement. It’s about Christ’s victory.
What Happens During the Service
During the Divine Liturgy, the priest brings a large cross into the nave. Often it’s decorated with flowers. He places it on a stand in the center of the church or before the iconostasis. The faithful come forward one by one to venerate it, to kiss it, to make prostrations before it.
There’s something powerful about this physical act. You’re not just thinking about the cross or singing about it. You’re walking up to it. Bowing before it. Pressing your lips to the wood. In Southeast Texas we’re practical people. We understand that sometimes you need to do something with your body, not just your mind.
The hymns sung during this service echo the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross in September. “We venerate Thy Cross, O Lord, and we glorify Thy holy Resurrection.” The connection is deliberate. Both observances honor the same reality: the cross is our salvation.
The Paradox at the Heart of It
Here’s what makes this Sunday so distinctly Orthodox. We’re venerating an instrument of execution. We’re kissing the thing that killed our Lord. And we’re doing it with joy.
This isn’t morbid. It’s the heart of our faith. The cross is where death died. It’s where the old creation ended and the new one began. When we venerate the cross, we’re not celebrating suffering for its own sake. We’re worshiping the God who transformed suffering into victory.
This is different from how many of our Baptist neighbors understand the cross. For them it’s often primarily about substitutionary atonement, Jesus took the punishment we deserved. That’s not wrong, but it’s incomplete. For us the cross is cosmic. It’s the axis where heaven and earth meet. It’s the tree of life replanted in the world. It’s the throne from which Christ reigns.
The Cross and Your Lenten Journey
The Sunday of the Holy Cross divides Lent into two halves. The first half focuses on repentance, on acknowledging our sin and mortality. The second half increasingly looks toward the resurrection. The cross stands at the hinge point between the two.
When you venerate the cross at the midpoint of Lent, you’re making a statement. You’re saying that your fasting, your prayer, your almsgiving, none of it makes sense without the cross. You’re also saying that the cross doesn’t end in death. It leads to Pascha.
This Sunday teaches us to hold repentance and hope together. We don’t minimize our sin. We don’t pretend we’re fine. But we also don’t despair. The cross we venerate is empty. The One who hung there is risen.
A Practical Note
If you’re new to Orthodoxy and you’re experiencing your first Sunday of the Holy Cross, don’t worry about getting it perfect. Watch what others do. When people start going forward to venerate the cross, join the line. Make the sign of the cross, bow, kiss the cross. That’s it.
Some people make prostrations. Some just bow. Some kiss the feet of Christ on the crucifix, some kiss the wood itself. There’s no single right way. What matters is that you’re there, physically placing yourself before the cross, letting it reorient your Lenten struggle.
The cross will likely stay in the church for the rest of the week. You can venerate it again when you come for other services. Let it be a visual anchor for you. When you walk into church and see it there, let it remind you: this is what we’re moving toward. Not just Good Friday, but the empty tomb beyond it.
Metropolitan Kallistos Ware once wrote that the cross is the sign of Christ’s humility and His glory at the same time. That’s what we’re venerating on this Sunday. That’s what carries us through the rest of Lent.
