Page 122 - Orthodoxy Zizioulas

First, the Cross reveals the nature of divine love. God does
not remain distant from human suffering. He does not observe
evil from afar, like the impassive deity of philosophical
imagination. He enters into the very depth of human existence
and takes upon Himself its consequences. In doing so, He
reveals that love is not abstract sympathy, but participation—
sharing in the pain of the other. Without this participation,
love remains incomplete. Thus, even our own sufferings may
become a school of love, teaching us to bear the burdens of
others not from a distance, but from within.
Second, the Cross reveals God’s absolute respect for
freedom. Evil arises from freedom misused. If God were to
abolish evil by force, He would at the same time abolish the
very freedom He bestowed. Instead, He allows Himself to be
struck by that freedom. On the Cross, the full weight of
humanity’s negative freedom falls upon Him—and is
exhausted there.
This is why the Cross becomes the true path for human life.
One who follows the Crucified does not coerce, dominate, or
impose. He would rather suffer the misuse of another’s
freedom than violate it. In this way, love and freedom together
overcome evil—not by suppression, but by transfiguration.
Thus, the Cross stands as the only true answer to evil: the
Cross of love and the Cross of freedom. What appears as
weakness reveals itself as the deepest strength. As the Apostle
teaches, goodness has the power to overcome evil—not
immediately, not visibly, but decisively and finally. For this
reason, the Church does not call us merely to admire the
Cross, but to take it up.
There are, in truth, two forms of the Cross in our lives.
First, there are the crosses that are given to us: illness,
sorrow, betrayal, injustice—those burdens we did not choose.