I've ridden in countless funeral processions over the years, but two are memorable for similar reasons. A few weeks ago the procession was traveling east toward Kent on Route 301, a narrow, winding road with not much of a shoulder. I was in the car behind the hearse, and we rounded a bend and a jogger was coming toward us on the shoulder. He was huffing and sweaty as he looked up, but he didn't hesitate. He did not break stride as he went like this: he made the sign of the cross. A similar incident happened several years ago in Yonkers. The hearse was slowly passing two teens playing basketball in a school yard, and the girl was dribbling toward the basket. She looked up and, in mid-dribble, she made the sign of the cross. Mid-dribble.

Don't you wonder why? I did, but there was no way to find out. Why did the forty-something jogger and the teen dribbler do what they did? Was it a sign of respect for one who had died? Was it superstition or fear? Maybe a little of both. I like to think, however, that they both possessed the understanding: God flipped the script. God flipped the script, and even though the procession was heading toward the graveyard, the graveyard was not the final destination. Tracing the sign of the cross is a reminder of our Baptismal connection, and that connection is articulated each time the pastor traces the cross on the forehead of one being Baptized, "You have been sealed by the Holy Spirit, and marked with the Cross of Christ forever. God flipped the script.

How much of this theological point of view did the jogger and the dribbler consider as they made the sign of the cross? Probably very little. It was most likely, for each of them, a thoughtless act. By that I mean, both were so nourished by the teaching of their church, that making that sign was natural. It was a thoughtless act in that they did not have to think about it. Whatever prompted the sign of the cross by those two, their piety was touching. And for at least one person in each of those funeral processions, their action and respect was moving.

Leave it to Jesus. Jesus, who could and did, turn sickness into health, has turned a cruel symbol of death into the promise of eternal life. Jesus, who could and did, turn selfish hearts into generous souls, took the wood of his own death and turned it into good for us all. Leave it to Jesus who took hatred and fashioned it into love for all humanity, took a tombstone and fashioned into a stepping stone. The script has been flipped.

Today is Holy Cross Day - an observance that happens every September 14, but not all that often, obviously, does the festival fall on a Sunday. Holy Cross Day dates back to the 4th Century, when Queen Helena, mother of Constantine traveled from Rome to Jerusalem. She had workmen dig at the site of Golgotha, and three crosses were uncovered. One was the cross of Jesus. But why celebrate a cross this morning - or any morning for that matter? Well, that's a rhetorical question, of course. I don't expect an answer because we all know the answer. That long ago instrument of torture and death is at the heart of the Gospel and the very heart of God. It's all about God's grace, that cross. The Greek word for grace is "charis"; it means gift. The cross of Jesus is like the gavel of a judge. We are guilty of all sorts of things but when push-comes-to-shove, God our judge takes that cross and pronounces, "not guilty." That is a gift!

It's a neat coincidence that the Greek word, "charis" and the English word, "cross" sound a bit alike. Say it clearly, repeat it quickly, and they almost melt together: "charis" - "cross"; "charis" - "cross"; "charis" - "cross." As close as the two words may be on the tongue, they are closer still in the language of God. The script is flipped: not guilty!

John 3:16 is sometimes called "the Gospel in a nutshell. If all you know about the Bible are these two dozen words or so, you know enough. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life." "God gave," is at the center of this single verse. And what does God give? The ultimate gift. Charis. Grace. This the Bible's way of saying that at the very center of life there is a God who is not a angry judge or a scolding parent, but a God who gives gift after gift after gift. That's grace.

It's an old story and some of you may remember it. A junior high student has the science assignment to make a model of planet earth. Under the watchful eyes of her three-year old brother Bobby, she gets a blue rubber ball, scissors and construction paper. She cuts out the continents and then goes to the den to find some paste. In the short time she is away, Bobby plays the part of Gustav or Ike, a mini-hurricane as he takes those continents and tears and crumples and makes them uninhabitable. Sister hollers at brother and brother cries. Sister softens and says, "Don't worry Bobby; I still love you, even though you made a mess of my world." Instead of perpetuating her anger, and harping on her brother's guilt, sister flipped the script.

This is the essence of grace and it is the heart of the Gospel. "For God so loved Bobby, and all Bobbys and Robertas, for God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."

The preacher, Tom Long, writes, "It was in the news recently that there is a luxury apartment building in a very fancy housing district in my town and it was discovered that some of the residents of this apartment building were actually on public assistance. They were what we used to call welfare folks. Well, when that news came out, the homeowners in that very fashionable section of town were outraged. They didn't want their property values coming down so they demanded and got a public hearing."

Long continues, "I watched a little of it on the news and the first person to go to the microphone was a young mother with a baby on her hip. Her story was that when she got pregnant, her boyfriend took the car and left her. Left her with nothing. After the baby was born she managed to get a job as a maid in one of the local motels and if she didn't have the apartment she couldn't have the job, and if she didn't have the job she couldn't feed the baby. And she begged for the assistance to continue. The next person to the microphone was a homeowner who said that he and his wife had poured their life savings into their home and they wanted their investment protected. He turned and looked at the young mother with the baby and he said, "I understand how you feel, but I earned mine and you're going to have to earn yours." And Long concludes this story, "When you have experienced grace, you can never look another human being in the face again and say, "I earned mine, you're going to have to earn yours," because everything we have is a gift of God. Everything is grace. Everything.

As joggers and dribblers and people of faith we recognize that central fact of life, "God so loved the world that he gave ...." we murmur, as we trace the cross in our minds. "God so loved the world." And with one magnificent and extravagant gift of grace, God flipped the script.