An observation on faith, symbolism, and understanding

I don’t wear a cross.

It isn’t because I don’t believe in Jesus Christ or because I don’t understand the extraordinary love behind His sacrifice. Quite the opposite.

I’ve given considerable thought to the cross and what it represents. It was an instrument of execution, designed to inflict unimaginable suffering and humiliation. Jesus willingly endured that suffering out of love for us.

But I’ve never been comfortable wearing the instrument of His death around my neck.

Instead, I wear a medal of Archangel Michael, with a sword hanging in front of it.

For me, Michael represents the ongoing spiritual battle described in Ephesians 6. The armor of God. The sword of the Spirit. The responsibility to stand firm in truth.

I don’t wear the medal because I expect Michael to fight my battles for me. I wear it to remind myself of my responsibility to remain faithful to God.

Recently, as I’ve continued studying Scripture, comparing interpretations, and meditating on the Kingdom of God, something began to come together.

I’ve been thinking about God’s nature.

God is Spirit. God is truth. God is love.

And I’ve come to understand heaven as the fullness of that love, with Jesus Christ as the key to our transformation toward it.

Then I began looking at my medal differently.

The sword itself forms the shape of a cross. At the intersection of the blade and its crossguard sits a diamond, my birthstone.

I hadn’t originally considered all those connections. They’ve revealed themselves gradually, as my understanding has grown.

And then a distinction occurred to me.

The doing and the done.

Jesus, on the cross, represents what was accomplished.

John 19:30 records His final declaration:

“It is finished.”

His sacrifice was made. His love demonstrated. His work accomplished.

Michael, with his sword, represents something different to me.

The doing.

The spiritual battle continues. The responsibility to stand in truth continues. My journey toward becoming more loving, more discerning, and more faithful continues.

Christ’s sacrifice is not something I must repeat. But His teachings are something I must live.

And that brings me to 1 Samuel 16:7:

“For man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart.”

That verse touched me deeply.

Perhaps because it brought the whole matter of religious symbols into perspective.

Some wear a cross as an expression of faith. Others may wear one simply because they like the jewelry. I cannot know what is in another person’s heart.

But I can examine my own.

I don’t need to wear a cross to acknowledge what Jesus accomplished. I need to live according to what He taught.

The sword around my neck is not a declaration that I have arrived. It is a reminder that I am still walking.

Still learning.

Still questioning.

Still growing in understanding.

And still discovering how truth and love belong together.

The cross reminds me of what Christ has done.

The sword reminds me of what I am called to do.

One represents the sacrifice already made. The other represents the responsibility I carry forward.

And perhaps that is why this particular medal means so much to me.

It contains both symbols, even though I didn’t recognize that when I first chose it.

The cross is there, within the sword.

The done, within the doing.

And at their intersection, a small diamond that makes the reminder personally mine.

My faith isn’t something I have finished.

It is something I am living.

Forward is the only direction worth walking.