“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.”
I heard this line at daily mass after a morning of theology syllabus writing, digging through readings to share the subject that energizes me, and imagining the ways to engage students with assignments. I was occasionally interrupted by texts from friends wishing me a happy feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola, because those are the sort of friends that I have.
So when I heard the admonition to carry my cross in discipleship, I worried for a moment. Can I be a disciple if I’m having this much fun?
My work brings me joy, my family and friends bring me joy, time in the garden and time with books and phone calls on my commute bring me joy. Joy is not incompatible with the Gospel. Joy comes from the sense of rightness that I have found a lifestyle that allows me to express my deepest values in the day-to-day. I happen to be drawn to creativity and communication, but others find this alignment with their call to problem solving, healing, construction, deep thinking, advocacy, or the many other deep desires that God places in our hearts, the fulfillment of which makes us most alive.
That doesn’t mean I never suffer or am never sad. But rather than letting the crosses I carry dim my light, I stay oriented toward life so that I keep being the most ‘me’ I can be, despite the weight of unchosen hardships. Other sacrifices are less painful because they exist alongside my deepening awareness of the right-ness of the choices that lead to those sacrifices.
The crosses are present, and they are inevitable, but the path of discipleship is lit by joy.
