What Color is Your Cross?

A couple of years ago I made a trip down to New Orleans to spend a week helping with the disaster relief efforts. One thing I remember from that trip was how disillusioned people were with the Red Cross' ability to respond to their plight. I frequently heard people remark that they hadn't received any kind of aid at all outside of the grassroots efforts organized by local religious organizations. Some of these people felt even more let down because they had made contributions to the Red Cross. It's not my intention to disparage the Red Cross here but I'm taking an opportunity to illustrate the point that I'm eventually going to get to.

Recently, I had my own disappointing experience with Blue Cross, my medical insurance carrier. In August of 2006 we initiated a pre-approval process for a surgical procedure that my son, Brendon, needed as part of his cleft lip/palate reconstructive surgery process. Little did I know that it would end up being a year long ordeal. To make long story shorter, we initially thought the surgery would be covered then later, when we asked for something in writing, we learned that it would not be. Numerous letters were exchanged between Blue Cross, several doctors, my company's benefits department, and ourselves. We never did get pre-approval and after the surgery was performed some bills were paid and others were not. When I questioned Blue Cross about the inconsistencies they responded that they had made a mistake and I would have to reimburse them the money that I had already forwarded to the medical service providers. Basically, it looked like we were on the hook for $30k+ or some ugly litigation.

So here we have two organizations who chose a cross as their symbol. Two organizations on which our earthly lives have some significant dependence and to which we gladly contribute our finances in the hope that when we need them they will be there for us. And, ultimately, two organizations that, in my experience have let people down. In stark contrast stands the Cross of Christ. I'm not sure what color it was - probably some shade of brown - but I do know that I can depend on it completely. It may not be there to pay my bills or bring me food and water when disaster strikes but the One who died on it will give me everything I truly need in this life. And, finally, when the day comes when I stand before my Creator to give an account for my life, that old rugged cross will be the only thing I can depend on. I have no doubt whatsoever that my trust in it will be well placed.

(In all fairness to Blue Cross, they did eventually agree to pay most of the costs of the surgery a few weeks ago. I'm going to give thanks to the One with the brown, wooden cross though.)