I wrote a while back of my distaste for the “I LOVE JESUS” signs around my neighborhood. And I have tried a few times to snap a picture of another blatant statement of religious arrogance with no luck. Mostly because I would have to take it at night & would have to stop on the side of the road in order for the picture to turn out half-way decent. And that opportunity has just not arisen. So I will do my best to simply explain it.
It’s approximately half-way on my trip home every day from work. Three wooden crosses, I’m guessing around eight feet tall – the middle one standing slightly taller that the two on either side, stand on a hill facing the East bound traffic of Rte 13. And the best part of all, they’re completely covered with several strings of mini white Christmas lights!
365 nights a year, the people of Southern Illinois are told, “Merry Christmas – Jesus Died!”… huh?
I will admit that over the years I have had my issues with the symbolism of the cross itself, felling as if some Christians worship the symbol more than the guy that was on it. Or, why would I want to advertise my relationship with Christ by wearing or displaying a miniature version of the instrument of his torture & death? Just seems morbid to me. I have come to grips with it to some extent, but then all of a sudden this glowing reminder appears atop a grassy hill, slapping me in the face every day as I head home from a long day’s work.
When I get past the creepiness of the whole situation, it’s still just a big version of the purple signs. “Look at me. See what a good Christian I am? I placed giant illuminated crosses in my yard! And now I have to mow around them.”