‘Inventing’ the Cross
The 14th of September marks the beginning of Liturgical Autumn in the Roman Calendar, with the Feast of the Exultation/Triumph of the Holy Cross. This feast was established in the 4th century, but also commemorates the 7th century victory over the Persians, in which the Byzantines successfully recovered a portion of the True Cross which had been lost in battle. Spending time in prayer before any piece of the True Cross is a real treat, most especially in Santa Croce in Gerusalemme in Rome, where the fragments there are on full display for the devotion of pilgrims.
This Feast has always fascinated me since Seminary days, when I finally became acquainted with those “Feasts of the Lord” which are so sadly unknown and neglected by many Western Christians today. What has interested me the most is that this Feast of the Cross is clearly distinguished, temporally and thematically, from the Commemoration of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday. It is a strange Feast in many ways, because instead of celebrating a discrete moment in the life of Our Lord, like his Baptism or his Transfiguration, this Feast offers worship to Christ by means of synecdoche , whereby the Sign of the Cross is so intimately united with his person, that the theological principles typically associated with iconography apply: reverence shown to the Cross is understood to be not honor given to dead wood, but rather to Christ himself.
The Feast is also strange because, unlike the other Dominical Feasts, its origins are mostly extra-Biblical, starting with the Finding of the True Cross by the Empress Helen, mother of Constantine the Great, almost three full centuries after the Death and Resurrection of Christ. Many English speaking pilgrims, when visiting the Holy Sepulchre, typically are confused and perhaps alarmed when they visit the chapel, deep in the sprawling Church, dedicated to the “Invention” of the Holy Cross, which is an infelicitous translation of the Latin inventio, which is derived from the Latin verb invenire, which means “to discover” or “to find”. It is a shame that the English tongue’s sense of the word has drifted so far from it’s original sense, although we may still see some of that old understanding when we use the word “invention” in the sense of a new scientific or technological breakthrough.
I think there is a very profound lesson in this idea of ‘inventing’ the Cross. This is a Feast which centers around, at least in part, the historical reality that the literal Cross was lost, whether by persecution, neglect or conquest, and the discovery or rediscovery of that very Cross is a Triumph for all Christians, and a source of joy and rejuvenation.
The Triumph of the Cross is very much a Feast for the Church today, and perhaps it is more important that we celebrate it today than ever before in our history. I believe in many ways, the Church is always “inventing” the Cross, and she must continue to do this until that same Sign appears in the heavens before the Lord returns in triumph. In every historical era, there seems to be some sort of threat or problem, whether internal, external, or both, which obscures for the Church the central importance of the Holy Cross, and thus its meaning for the individual Christian. In 21st century Catholicism, we tend to look with suspicion or even derision at our ancestors who zealously treasured physical relics of Christ and the Saints, with the Holy Cross occupying a pride of place. The Cross, like Christ, has been domesticated and largely emptied of its world-shaking symbolism, both as a taunt to the powers of darkness, celestial and terrestrial, and its life-giving power.
The Church as a Body, and the individual Christian, if they want to see the forces of good and justice on the ascendency, must “invent” the Cross. The Cross is that ancient weapon of battle which broke the prison bars of hell, and it is our greatest weapon, even now. The Christian in union with the Cross, spiritually speaking, is guaranteed to encounter its power, and that power overflows into the world and its affairs.
It was said that Spartan Mothers, when their sons went off to war, told them to “come home with their shields or on top of them”, which is to say, take up arms in such a way so as to triumph, no matter the cost. This anecdote is all too appropriate for the Christian, who in carrying the Cross to battle, also mounts the Cross in union with Christ.
A long time ago I once heard a wonderful homily on the famous passage from Scripture, Matthew 16:18, which is proudly inscribed in St. Peter’s Basilica, its script running around the area of the Altar of the Chair: “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church…and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” The homilist made pains to point out that it is a common mistake of our times to interpret this verse as if the Church were a static structure, or a besieged city. Hell, in this conception, will employ all its malice to destroy her, but will never succeed. On the other hand, can we interpret this image offensively? That is, the gates of hell are in fact the beleaguered and battered ones, quaking at the advance of Christ and his army?
Such has been the mind of the Church in the words of her most eloquent saints and evocative liturgical hymns. Venantius Fortunatus composed arguably the most famous and enduring hymn to the Triumphant Cross, Vexilla Regis prodeunt, as the sixth century Christians waited with infectious excitement at the monastery of the aptly named Saint-Croix in Poitiers, France, as a fragment of the True Cross arrived from Byzantium. It’s words still capture the imagination today: Vexilla Regis prodeunt, fulget crucis mysterium. A Roman vexillum was not merely a “royal banner”, as the standard English translation presents it. A vexillum was a battle standard, a flag which was borne proudly by Rome’s Legions as they conquered the known world. The meaning of the hymn is clear: the Church is a Legion on the march, and the Cross is her foremost and proudest banner. What is an army without a standard? It is an army that is aimless, drifting, and without morale.
During this time of nearly worldwide upheaval, and the abasement of the Church before the forces of the world, next week’s Feast is a providential invitation, offered once again in the Church’s Liturgical Calendar, to search for the Cross. In finding it, and taking it as our standard, we may at long last clothe ourselves with strength, and find our marching orders: to imitate the self-sacrificial love, courage and dedication of Our Founder, in whom the war against evil is already won.