The Cross is the Axis on which the Cosmos turns

Over the course of Christianity’s first thousand years, the crucifixion of Jesus went from a subject that could be preached but not shown, to the inspiration for marvelous public artworks.

The Gero Cross or Gero Crucifix (c. 965–970), the oldest large sculpture of the crucified Christ north of the Alps. (Image: Wikipedia)

But as for me, God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ… — Apostle Paul (Gal 6:14)

When St. Paul preached “Jesus Christ and him crucified,” the crucifix did not yet exist as a Christian symbol. Displaying such an object to potential coverts would have outraged Jews and repelled pagans. Verbal witness was one thing, but an actual image of a body nailed to a cross was offensive either as a forbidden idol or as tasteless reminder of public execution.

Few images of the Crucifixion in the early Church

Although the Sign of the Cross as a devotional gesture was already used by the second century, the earliest picture of a crucifix is a vicious anti-Christian graffito, circa 200. Depicting a crucified man with the head of an ass, it bears the inscription: “Alexamenos adores his god.” The cartoonist was hurling two insults at once, connecting Christianity with an ignoble beast and the cruelest punishment of the day.

Romans attached victims to stakes or crosses of varying design with varying techniques in pursuit of inflicting maximum pain. The Gospels simply tell us that Jesus was crucified with nails on a tall wooden structure with space for a plaque above his head. Further details are speculative but the actual procedure differed from what is shown in the classic Stations of the Cross.

The condemned one suffered nude except when the Romans allowed some covering for modesty as a concession to Jewish sensibilities. He carried only the horizontal crosspiece (patibulum) to the death-site. There he would be nailed to it through the wrist, not the palm, then lifted onto a preset upright (stauros) before having his feet nailed to that. Bones of three crucifixion victims found in recent times indicate nailing through their heels or ankles. The Alexamenos graffito and the earliest Christian art show a platform supporting the feet in a standing position but whether Jesus had one is uncertain.

Given Roman distaste for representing or even describing crucifixion and its banning by the Emperor Constantine in 337 AD, by the time Christians began depicting the Savior’s death in the following century, no one living had witnessed a penal crucifixion. The earliest surviving artworks are memorials, not exact images of Christ crucified.

Although several gem stones engraved with naked stick figures of Jesus exist that may be as early as the second or third century, these were the private property of wealthy persons. The earliest surviving crucifixion scene for public display is a crude wooden carving on the door of the Church of Santa Sabina in Rome, 420. There Christ and the two thieves merely stand with outstretched arms against a framework that suggests crosses. A handsome ivory plaque made around the same time offers a fully rendered view. Here Jesus nailed on his cross, mourned by Mary and St, John, is flanked by two contrasting figures: marveling Longinus the centurion and despairing Judas hanging dead from a tree.

This plaque, part of a Passion cycle made for a small box, establishes a distinctive element of crucifixion iconography for centuries to come: the voluntary nature of Christ’s death. Fully in command of his sacrifice, he is alive, erect, open-eyed, and serene, even if shedding blood. Fastened by four nails, his otherwise unmarred body wears no crown of thorns. There is no sense of hideous agony, because first millennium crucifixes were designed for the meditative mind, not the emotions.

But these two works long remained outliers. The Crucifixion had not appeared in the catacombs nor did it suddenly become popular after Constantine’s conversion. Christian artists steadfastly refused to depict Jesus on his cross, perhaps to stay clear of the Christological controversies that roiled the patristic Church. (With similar discretion, they also avoided showing the moment of the Resurrection.) Although they gave Jesus in glory a cross-headed staff and a cruciform halo whose bars stood for the Greek word zoe, meaning “life,” they avoided nailing him to a cross.

The Chi-Rho emblem, enclosed within a victory wreath, sometimes hung with the letters Alpha and Omega, and attached to a simple cross stands in for Christ crucified on fourth-century sarcophagus carvings. Fifth-century pilgrims brought portions of holy oil back from Jerusalem in metal ampules embossed with crucifixion scenes where the face of Jesus floats above a bare cross while the two thieves writhe on theirs. Golden crosses set amid starry skies glow on the mosaic walls and ceilings of Late Antique churches, such as Ravenna’s Sant’ Apollinare in Classe (549). The crux gemmata remained a popular motif into the next millennium. The apse mosaic of Santa Pudenziana in Rome (ca. 400) is an early example. Magnificent bejeweled golden crosses for altar display or processional use might carry a disk showing Christ’s face or the Paschal Lamb, but no Corpus.

The rise of direct representation of Christ’s death

But across these centuries, the old Roman order was collapsing. The Empire split into Eastern and Western halves in 395. The East endured and became Byzantine. But the West fell in 476 and crumbled into separate barbarian kingdoms. Slowly, these transformed the old classical heritage to create new Christian cultures. iconography evolved in both regions through processes now largely obscured by the ravages of time and Iconoclasm

A precious survival from the era of transition is the Rabbula Gospels from Syria (586), the earliest known Bible text with large illustrations. Its Crucifixion page brings together motifs that will reappear again and again into the next millennium. Finally, emblems have given way to direct representation. This change from earlier practice rebuts contemporary heresies that denied the actuality of the Passion (Docetism) and the full humanity of the Savior (Monophysitism).

The earliest crucifixion in an illuminated manuscript, from the Rabbula Gospels. (Image: Wikipedia)

Here Jesus is alive and nailed to his cross: his real human body is undergoing a real death. Instead of the shockingly skimpy undergarment worn on the earliest crucifixes, he wears a long, sleeveless gown (colobium). To the left stands Longinus, who is piercing his heart with a spear, balanced on the right by Stephaton, who is offering a wine-soaked sponge on a stalk. The Good Thief and Bad Thief—tied rather than nailed to their crosses—bracket them. Mary and St. John stand further left, three morning women further right. At the base of the cross, three soldiers are dicing for Christ’s garments while a dot and a crescent stand for the Sun and Moon in the sky above. A second band of pictures below the Golgotha scene shows the women at the empty tomb, sleeping guards, and the Magdalen’s encounter with Jesus. The artist has combined both stages of our Redemption—Good Friday and Easter—into a single composition. What happened sequentially becomes simultaneous; before and after has become now.

By the middle of the eighth century, this strategy allowed all of Salvation History be condensed onto ivory plaques smaller—usually much smaller—than a sheet of typing paper. Set within frames of gold, jewels, and enamelwork, these miniature relief carvings once adorned the covers of luxurious Bibles and other sacred books for the courts and cloisters of western Europe. Crucifixion scenes were favorite subjects for ivories made during the Carolingian (8th-9th centuries) and Ottonian (10th-11th centuries) eras at such centers as Metz, Liège, Echternach, Cologne, Essen, and Milan. They were visual theology for elite eyes only.

A composite overview of motifs featured on these plaques reveals their complexity better than analyses of individual works. Of course, Jesus nailed to the cross always commands the center of the composition. He wears a loincloth or occasionally, a loose, long-sleeved robe. He is typically still alive and untroubled by his ordeal, maintaining the same serenity shown on the earliest Roman ivory carving of the crucifixion. He may relax his upright posture, twisting towards his faithful mourners and even smiling down on them. Blood rarely flows from his hands and feet and then only in stylized rivulets.

The symmetrical pair Longinus and Stephaton stand closest to the cross, the former tapping blood and water, the latter administering dilute wine. Next to them come the allegorical figures Ecclesia (Church) and Synagoga (Synagogue), each carrying a banner. Ecclesia holds up a chalice to catch Christ’s flowing blood while wistful Synagoga stands half turned away, half gazing back. A duplicate of Ecclesia may appear at the right hand margin confronting allegorical Jerusalem, an enthroned woman wearing a mural crown. The Two Thieves seldom appear and their postures differ from Christ’s. Mary, St. John, and perhaps some faithful women stand mourning near the cross.

Meanwhile, in an upper register, the Father’s mighty hand bestows a crown or victory wreath on his Son borne down by angels. Personifications of the Sun (Sol) and Moon (Luna) hover close to the cross weeping. In a few cases, the upper level also depicts the Ascension, Pentecost, or Christ in majesty.

The dead rise from graves, mausoleums, or the depths of the sea wherever they can fit in the composition—beside, below or even above Golgotha. Likewise, the Four Evangelists occupy various spots, sitting in corners or arrayed along borders. They may appear in human, symbolic, or hybrid animal-headed form to record everything, sometimes taking dictation from their own emblems.

In a few examples, the lower section depicts gospel episodes including the Nativity or the events of Holy Week. But in most cases, this area deploys symbols wondrous and strange that are the most original features of these carvings.

Far down below the disgorging graves lie the half-naked allegorical figures Oceanus (Sea) and Tellus (Earth). He rides a sea monster, grasps an oar, or even sprouts crab pincers on his head. She holds foliage, fondles infants, and nurses snakes at her ample breasts. Between them may sit an enthroned woman who stands for Rome or perhaps in one instance for Cosmos (World). All gaze attentively at the redemptive drama playing out above.

At ground level, the stem of one cross impales the belly of a bearded nude male representing Hades. Another one is upheld by a seated female labeled Terra (Earth). A chalice may stand at the base of the cross to collect the Sacred Blood when Ecclesia is absent. A huge serpent representing Satan slithers by the cross or coils around its base. Sometimes, the Evil One takes the form of a dragon clinging to the foot of the cross. He attempts to bar Adam’s—or Adam and Eve’s—resurrection from the grave below. In one stunning example, Adam stands in his grave nearly enfleshed. With hope, he stretches his right hand towards the cross.

These lovely ivory plaques teem with meanings as well as figures. No element is there by chance, for each carries meanings and allusions steeped in Patristic thought. For instance, the serpent/dragon by the cross recalls the Tempter’s pose in Eden. There he provoked the Fall. Here he seeks to prevent Redemption by denying Adam access to Savior’s dripping blood that will raise his dust to everlasting life. Adam’s grave is there to receive that grace because, according to legend, he had been interred on the future site of Golgotha, “the Place of the Skull” (calvariae locus in Latin, hence Calvary). His buried skull will continue to appear at the crucifixion for centuries to come and is still seen on Byzantine crucifixes.

The artistry displayed here relies on synthesis and symmetry to create grand tableaux of Salvation. Gospel characters and invented figures meet. Symbols converse with the men they symbolize. Humans, angels, and allegories mingle. The living and the dead, the dying and the reviving keep company. Personifications borrowed from pagan Antiquity are baptized to be Christian witnesses. From the heavens above to the underworld below, all creation centers on Our Lord and the Father’s mighty Hand governs all.

The Cross is the Axis on which the Cosmos turns

But as with all human endeavors, iconography does not stand still. Artistic eras overlap. While these crucifixion plaques were being carved to decorate book covers, actual crucifixes—cross shapes with an attached Corpus–were also starting to be made as devotional objects and personal ornaments. By 850, Byzantine artists had overcome their reluctance to depict Jesus dead. They settled on a stylized figure clad in a loincloth and slumped in a graceful S-curve against his cross. That remains the basic visual formula for the East to this day.

By the late tenth century, the West welcomed the pectoral Cross of St. Servais, the Abbess Mathilda of Essen’s processional crosses, and the Cross of Lothair (Aachen). These works glow with gold and gems to suggest the splendors of heaven. Although donors’ taste favored costly materials, the masterpiece of the age is the Gero Crucifix (Cologne, 970). Displaying Jesus at rest in the sleep of death, this life-sized, representational sculpture of polychromed wood exhibits a new aesthetic that foreshadows Romanesque art.

Over the course of Christianity’s first thousand years, the crucifixion of Jesus went from a subject that could be preached but not shown, to the inspiration for marvelous public artworks. Whether at the core of a scene or as a solo object, the crucified Savior gazed—and still gazes–back at the world in love. Because Christ Our Lord reigns from his Tree, the Cross is the Axis on which the Cosmos turns.

Sing my tongue, the savior’s glory,
Tell his triumph far and wide:
Tell aloud the famous story
Of his body crucified; …

— Good Friday liturgy

References:

Jean Hubert, Jean Porcher, and W. F. Vollbach, The Carolingian Renaissance. George Braziller: New York, 1970.

[no author] Rhin-Meuse: Art et Civilisation 800-1400. Cologne, 1972.

Richard Viladesau, The Beauty of the Cross: The Passion of Christ in Theology and the Artsfrom the Catacombs to the Eve of the Renaissance. Oxford University Press: New York, 2006.

Wilhelm Zehr, Das Kreuz: Symbol, Gestalt, Bedeutung. Belser: Stuttgart, 1997.

An internet search for “Carolingian ivory carvings,” “Ottonian ivory carvings,” and any named item will retrieve images of the works described here.


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About Sandra Miesel 33 Articles
Sandra Miesel is an American medievalist and writer. She is the author of hundreds of articles on history and art, among other subjects, and has written several books, including The Da Vinci Hoax: Exposing the Errors in The Da Vinci Code, which she co-authored with Carl E. Olson, and is co-editor with Paul E. Kerry of Light Beyond All Shadow: Religious Experience in Tolkien's Work (Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2011).

6 Comments

  1. We read: ” The artist has combined both stages of our Redemption—Good Friday and Easter—into a single composition. What happened sequentially becomes simultaneous; before and after has become now.”

    About the “now,” and considering the blankness of Protestant walls–what’s the “real” difference, if any, between a Catholic Church on Good Friday with it’s hollow tabernacle, and the meeting hall of a Protestant “ecclesial community,” or a mosque? Or the “real” difference between a sacramentally ordained priest and an invalidly enrobed presider or presideress at, say, a costume party? Or, the “real” difference “now” between the Real Presence at the 21st-century Eucharistic Renewal, versus any of the not-now gatherings at the 18th- and 19th-century Great Awakenings? Or, now, within the Church, between the Secnd Vatican Council’s Dei Verbum and Lumen Gentium, versus the “non-synod” der Synodale Weg in Germania?

    Or, between the inborn, deep, and universal Natural Law and the imposed, paper-thin and Germania-like Fiducia Supplicans?

    Just askin’…but who am I to judge?

    • You’re onto something, Peter. We’re into zero-based knowledge where all is nothing, left is right, Passion Sunday means sex, our government is ONE. Catholicism is universal so the pope must be king. The rest of us are ants, gnats or fertilizer for plants.

      Have a blessed day.

  2. Thanks Sandra for the rare historic cultural account of liturgical art centered on the cross, and with that the crucifixion. Serenity runs through the depictions of Christ indicating divine purpose.
    We may perceive that the cosmos revolves on its cruciform axis, Christ’s passion, death and resurrection even by random overview of events and direction. The marked turn toward humanness in art, literature, aesthetic interests when the bronze serpent was realized in Christ’s crucifixion, to the demise of cultural coherency in our distancing from the reality that has eternal resonance.

  3. Thank you , Sandra, for an interesting and inspiring piece again manifesting your extraordinary knowledge of historical details.

  4. That article was excellent. I certainly am one to take for granted far too much of our history as Christians. You have shown me how little imagery existed in the past in great contrast to present times when there is so very much.

  5. Thank you, readers, for your kind words. Now please do an internet search for those first millennium ivory carvings I described above. I love those images and this article was written specifically to share that enthusiasm. There are so many wonderful works from our Christian heritage that deserve to be better known beyond the ranks of art historians–or art history nerds like me.

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