The Origin And Meaning Of The Veneration Of The Cross Service

The aim of this essay is to set forth the origin and the significance of the Veneration of the Cross service with the hope that it will provide the basis for a more faithful interpretation and practice of the Veneration of the Cross service.

Origin and Development At the outset it must be emphasized that veneration of the cross was not part of the ancient Roman liturgy. Until the seventh century, the Good Friday service at Rome consisted only of the scriptural readings and solemn orations. The custom of venerating the cross, therefore, arose not at Rome, but at Jerusalem where the true cross was discovered during the second quarter of the fourth century. Tradition credits St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, with this discovery. Once unearthed, the sacred wood immediately became the object of great popular devotion. In 403, Paulinus of Nola reported that "every year during the Lord's Pasch the bishop of that city [Jerusalem] brings it [the cross] out to be venerated by the people; he leads them in this show of respect" (Letters of St. Paulinus of Nola II, "Letter 31," trans. P. G. Walsch, in Ancient Christian Writers [ACW] [Westminster, Md.: Newman Press, 1967], 36:132). At the end of the fourth century, the pilgrim Egeria visited the Holy City and left us an eyewitness account of the Good Friday liturgy. It began at about eight o'clock in the morning when a throne was set up for the bishop at the site of our Lord's crucifixion. Then the cross was publicly exposed. "The gilded silver casket containing the sacred wood of the cross is brought in and opened. Both the wood of the cross and the inscription are taken out and placed on the table. As soon as they have been placed on the table, the bishop, remaining seated, grips the ends of the sacred wood with his hands, while the deacons, who are standing about, keep watch over it" (Egeria: Diary of a Pilgrimage, trans. George E. Ginrasin, in ACW [1970], 38:111). Having described the exposition of the cross, Egeria states that "all the people pass through one by one, all of them bow down, touching the cross and the inscription, first with their foreheads, then with their eyes; and, after kissing the cross, they move on." Veneration came to an end at noon. For the next three hours, the throng of devout pilgrims listened to Scripture reading, sang psalms, and prayed. "After this," Egeria recounts "when the ninth hour is at hand, the passage is read from the Gospel according to Saint John where Christ gave up His spirit" (ACW, 38:112–13). Paulinus tells that the bishop of Jerusalem frequently made "tiny fragments of the sacred wood" available to others so that they might "win great graces and faith and blessings" (Letters of St. Paulinus of Nola II, "Letter 31," ACW, 36:132). This statement is confirmed by Cyril of Jerusalem who confesses that the wood of the cross is "now distributed piecemeal from Jerusalem over all the world." Because of this, adoration of the cross developed in other churches in the East. At Antioch, a segment of the true cross was publicly venerated on Good Friday; at Constantinople, it was honored throughout the last three days of Holy Week. Hymns from the Byzantine liturgy disclose some of the significance of this practice. One of them addresses Adam and Eve, saying, "O you first-created Couple, fallen from heavenly status … through the bitter pleasure from the olden tree: come!! See here the true and most revered Tree; hasten to kiss it and to cry out with faith: ?'You are our help, most revered Cross.' " Another hymn summons the faithful: "Come, O Faithful, let us adore the life-giving Cross of Christ, the King of Glory, for when he extended his arms on it of his own free will, He restored us to the original bliss." (Byzantine Daily Worship, ed. Joseph Raya and Jose de Vinck [Allendale, N.J.: Alleluia Press, 1969], 802, 805.) Here the wood of the cross is seen as the tree of life from which Adam and Eve were banished, but to which the faithful have access through Christ. By the end of the seventh century, apparently under the influence of Constantinople, veneration of the cross had been adopted at Rome. The papal liturgy, as is known from the Ordo of Einsideln, began at two in the afternoon and was characterized by an elaborate procession from Saint John Latern to the Church of the Holy Cross. In the procession the ministers walked barefoot. A deacon bore the wood of the cross in a gold reliquary adorned with precious gems. The pope himself carried a censer before the cross. During the procession, Psalm 118 was chanted, probably with the antiphon "Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the salvation of the world" (Les Ordines Romani du haut moyen age III [Louvain: Spicilegium Sacrum Lovaniense, 1961], 270). Having arrived "at Jerusalem," as the ordo phrases it, the pope, clergy, and faithful prayed together, then kissed the holy relic. After this the traditional Service of the Word took place at which John's Passion was read. Except for the procession, the order of the papal service reflects that of the Jerusalem church as reported by Egeria. The procession itself constitutes a kind of pilgrimage to the Holy City. In the titular and suburban churches of Rome served not by the pope but by other bishops and presbyters, a relic of the cross was also exposed and venerated. These services began at three in the afternoon while the papal liturgy was still in progress, but they did not include a procession. Moreover, the sequence of parts is different. According to the Ancient Gelasian Sacramentary, the holy cross was placed on the altar without any ceremony before the liturgy began. After the ministers had entered, the Scripture readings and solemn orations took place, at the end of which "all adore the holy cross and communicate" (Cunibert Mohlberg, ed., Liber sacramentorum Romanae aeclesiae ordines anni circuli [Rome: Herder, 1960], 418). Whereas in the papal rite, veneration of the cross preceded the Service of the Word, in other churches it followed the intercessory prayers. Churches north of the Alps also incorporated the veneration of the cross into the Good Friday service. Their obvious source of inspiration is Roman suburban practice, since they provide for no procession and locate the veneration after the solemn orations. Some Frankish ordines simply repeat the Gelasian rubrics more or less verbatim. On the other hand, ordo XXIV, from the second half of the eighth century, offers a more detailed description of the action and mentions that Psalm 118, with the antiphon "Eccelignum crucis," is chanted while the cross is being honored. Thus the Psalm and antiphon which were sung during the procession at the Roman papal rite are now executed during the veneration. This may have been the case already in the suburban churches of Rome from which this ordo derives. At this point it might be well to point out that the antiphon "Ecce lignum crucis" is composed of phrases strongly reminiscent of various accounts of the finding of the true cross. St. Paulinus, for example, states, "Once you think that you behold the wood on which our salvation, the Lord of Majesty, was hanged with nails whilst the world trembled, you, too, must tremble, but you must also rejoice" (Letters of St. Paulinus of Nola II, "Letter 31," 36:126). Another pertinent text is furnished by Rufinus, who reports that as Helena searched for the cross she prayed that God would reveal to them "the blessed wood on which hung our salvation" (Rufinus, Historia Ecclesiastica I, in Patrologia Latina, 21:476). Both these passages find a clear echo in the words of the acclamation: "Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the salvation of the world." Whether this acclamation is sung in procession during the veneration or during the exposition (as will be the case later), it calls attention to the wood of the cross in a quite literal sense: the wood of the very cross by which Christ saved the world. The hearer is thereby made to participate in the original discovery. If these words are to bear their intended meaning, a relic of the true cross is required. Ordo XXXI, stemming from the second half of the ninth century, is of particular interest, for it shows that the exposition of the sacred wood has been considerably embellished with a view to making of it a veritable theophany—which, of course, is fully consistent with St. John's presentation of the Crucifixion as the revelation of divine glory. The cross, covered with a veil, is carried to the front of the altar by two acolytes. They stop three times along the way. Each time they do so the chanters bow and sing in Greek: "Holy God, holy Mighty One, holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." The choir answers with the same words in Latin. After the third time, the bishop unveils the cross all at once and sings in a loud voice: "Behold the wood of the Cross." The cross is here treated as the revelation of God, as the visible manifestation of his presence and saving power. Hence, the appearance of the cross calls forth the awesome Trisagion. The custom mentioned in the Roman-Germanic pontifical of genuflecting or even prostrating before the sacred wood is likewise consistent with this understanding. Commenting on this practice, Pseudo-Alcuin declares, "When we adore this cross, our whole body clings to the earth; and him whom we adore, we mentally discern as if hanging upon it. The power which it received from the Son of God, that we adore" (De Divinus Officiis Liber XVIII, in Patrologia Latina, 101:1210). The same text also proves, incidentally, the figure of the crucified Christ was not affixed to the cross. It was discerned only mentally. Medieval rituals also prescribe that the hymn "Pange lingua" with its recurring refrain "crux fidelis" should be sung either during the adoration or at Communion. This splendid composition was written by Venatius Fortunatus in 569 for the reception of a relic of the true cross sent to Queen Radegunde at Poitiers by the Byzantine emperor Julian II. It is intended for processional use. As the wood of the cross appears to sight, it prompts the narration of how Christ in the fullness of time assumed our flesh and redeemed mankind by his death on the tree, thereby restoring creation by means of the very material that caused its fall. The wood of the cross, therefore, is a trophy, a sign of victory. The eighth verse, used as a refrain on Good Friday, addresses the sacred wood directly, proclaiming it to be "alone in its glory among all other trees; no forest ever yielded its equal in leaf, flower and fruit" for the fruit of the cross is the salvation of the world (Joseph Connelly, Hymns of the Roman Liturgy [Westminster, Md.: Newman Press, 1957], 84). This hymn, like the "Vexilla regis," also composed by Fortunatus and for the same occasion, is an outstanding example of how the mystery of the cross was understood in the West and what kind of response it stirred. It is an excellent commentary not only on the veneration of the cross but on the entire Good Friday liturgy. During the eleventh and twelfth centuries especially, under the influence of Cluny and other centers of ecclesiastical reform, Frankish and Germanic practices were brought down to Rome and given fresh expression in the Roman pontifical of the twelfth century. According to this document, the pontiff removes his shoes and prostrates three times before kissing the cross, which, as was mentioned in Ordo XXXI, is covered with a veil. Then, unlike the procedure described in Ordo XXXI, he intones "Ecce lignum crucis" three times, each time unveiling a portion of the cross. The Trisagion, "Pange lingua," and other anthems are sung during the period of veneration. The first printed edition of the Roman Missal in 1474 attests the same format, except that the priest exposes the cross first and only then removes his shoes, prostrates, and kisses it. Thus was the rite transmitted to our own day. The texts and fundamental gestures employed in this rite have remained the same from the early Middle Ages to the present. Missals of more recent centuries as well as the Sacramentary of Paul VI continue to speak of the veneration of the cross. Nevertheless, there is literary evidence from at least the fourteenth century to indicate that the crucifix was replacing the cross as the object of adoration. This shift in devotion from the wood of the cross itself to a naturalistic representation of the crucified Christ corresponds to the collapse of the symbolic universe of the Middle Ages and the advent of secular, humanistic thought, which would eventually issue in the Renaissance. It also marks a low point in sacramental life and the emergence of a piety and spirituality that have no foundation in doctrine—a state of affairs that the modern liturgical renewal has not altogether succeeded in remedying. Moreover the pontifical revised by Innocent III in the early years of the thirteenth century explicitly restricted Communion on Good Friday to the celebrant alone. From then until 1956, Communion of the faithful was forbidden. Dom Bernard Capelle surmises that this measure did not bring a sudden halt to existing practice, but merely accorded official recognition to what had already become a fact. In any case, it is interesting to speculate whether the appearance of the corpus upon the cross used for veneration on Good Friday advanced in proportion to decline in the reception of the corpus Domini sacramentally. Capelle has shown that the absence of general Communion in the thirteenth century was compensated for by considerably augmenting the rites surrounding the presanctified bread. The tendency to represent the body of Christ in the form of a figure on the cross may be yet another compensation for its disappearance in sacramental form. But this is merely a hypothesis and requires further testing. Significance Before drawing any practical conclusions, it is necessary to comment briefly on the significance of the holy cross. The cross is first of all and most obviously the instrument of redemption. Because of Adam's transgression, the wood of a tree brought sin and death; because of Christ's obedience, the wood of the cross brings forgiveness and life. Salvation, therefore, does not substitute for creation, but rather heals it at its root and brings it to completion. God's fidelity to the work of his hands remains unshaken. In his infinite wisdom, he makes the very element that provoked the world's downfall to be the source of its restoration and ultimate perfection. In retrospect, the early church fathers perceived the entire movement of salvation history as being oriented to the cross and partaking of its power. "Life ever comes from wood," declared Cyril of Jerusalem. "In the time of Noah the preservation of life came from a wooden ark. In Moses' time the sea, on beholding the figurative rod, gave way before him who struck it." When the plan of salvation had reached fulfillment, Pseudo-Chrysostom could acclaim the cross as the foundation, goal, and content of all creation: "This Tree, vast as heaven itself, rises from earth to the skies, a plant immortal, set firm in the midst of heaven and earth, base of all that is, binding force of all creation, holding within itself all the mysterious essence of man." To kiss the cross, then, is to thankfully and humbly embrace the gift of creation now made whole by the sacrifice of him whose body was raised upon the wood. Secondly, the cross is understood as a royal throne from which the divine presence reigns. In the desert, Yahweh directed Moses to construct a wooden ark surmounted by a covering, called the propitiatory, or throne of mercy, at each side of which were winged figures, or cherubim. "There I shall come to meet you," he said, "there, from above the throne of mercy" (Exod. 25:22). Because God had chosen the lid of the ark as the place where he made himself present to rule his people, he is said to be "enthroned on the cherubim" (1 Sam. 4:4; 2 Sam. 6:2) and is invoked as such in prayer (2 Kings 19:15; Ps. 80:1). Each year on the Day of Atonement, the priest was required to sprinkle the blood of sacrificed animals on the propitiatory and to burn incense before it (Lev. 16:11–16), thereby obtaining forgiveness, mercy, and life from God. The letter to the Hebrews, now read on Good Friday, recalls this ritual to present the sacrifice of Christ and the sprinkling of his blood as the "source of eternal salvation" (Heb. 5:9). In the body of the crucified One, God has once for all abolished sin and manifested his gracious presence to mankind. The cross, then, is the throne upon which his grace reigns victorious. It is the place where his glory is revealed. As St. John's Passion narrative emphasizes, Christ is king; but his kingdom "rests on the wood." Hence the ancient Christian gloss on Psalm 96:10, known as early as St. Justin: "The Lord hath reigned from the tree." This famous gloss recurs in the "Vexilla regis" of Fortunatus: "The words of David's true prophetic song were fulfilled in which he announced to the nations: ?'God has reigned from a tree' " (Connelly, Hymns, 80). These reflections demonstrate once again why the unveiling of the sacred wood prompted the chanting of the Trisagion, accompanied by profound bows. Like the lid of the ark, the cross is the throne where the glory of God is revealed unto judgment and salvation. Catching sight of it, the people of the new covenant shield their eyes and cry for mercy. They also remove their shoes as did Moses (Exod. 3:5) and Joshua (Josh. 5:15) in the presence of the Holy One. The bearing of incense before the relic of the cross, as in the ancient papal rite, may likewise be intended to evoke, among other things, the liturgy of the Day of Atonement. Finally, and perhaps most important of all, the cross is the sign of the Lord's eschatological presence. Christ, once taken up to heaven, was expected to return from the east. Matthew had announced the "coming of the Son of Man will be like lightning striking in the east and flashing far into the west!" (Matt. 24:27). As the immediate prelude to this occurrence, he adds that "the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven" (Matt. 24:30). Patristic literature is practically unanimous in interpreting this sign as the cross. Commenting on the text of the Gospel, Cyril of Jerusalem declares, "The true sign, Christ's own, is the Cross. A sign of a luminous cross precedes the King, showing Him who was formerly crucified." In another lecture, he explains that "the Cross will appear again with Jesus from heaven; for His emblem will precede the King; … and we shall glory, taking pride in the Cross, worshipping the Lord who was sent, and was crucified for us." Because Christ was expected to come from the east, Christians at a very early date prayed facing that direction in order to show themselves ready for his appearing and actually looking forward to the great event that would consummate the union with him already experienced in prayer. For that same reason, the sign of the cross was frequently traced on the eastern wall of places of prayer, thereby indicating the direction of prayer but also rendering the Lord's coming a present reality in the sign that heralds it. In other words, through the cross the anticipated eschatological appearance becomes Parousia: presence. This joining of prayer with the eschatological presence of Christ, unseen to the eye but revealed in the cross, obviously underlies the widely attested practice of prostrating before the sacred wood while praying to him who hung upon it. The public exposition of the cross signals the dawning of the Day of the Lord. On beholding it, the believer reverently kneels before the mysterious sign that reveals yet conceals the Lord whom he awaits. Looking with faith at the one who was pierced (Zech. 12:10; John 19:37), he mourns his sins—confident of being cleansed by the fountain of salvation flowing from the pierced one's side (Zech. 13:1; John 19:34). Practical Application Given the origin, development, and significance of this portion of the Good Friday liturgy, it is clear that a relic of the true cross should be the preferred object of veneration. Without it, the words and gestures of the ritual lose their immediacy and cease to convey their intended meaning, for they were fashioned as a response to the true cross and still depend upon its presence for their sense. The size of the relic is of no account, for as Paulinus of Nola urged long ago, "Let not your faith shrink because the eyes of the body behold evidence so small; let it look with the inner eye on the whole power of the cross in this tiny segment" (Paulinus of Nola, "Letter 31," ACW, 36:126). But because the sacred wood will usually be merely a fragment, it should be mounted within a much larger wooden cross, preferably Greek or Celtic in form, and suitably adorned by competent hands. The design and ornamentation of the larger cross should radiate the mystery it carries, that is "the mystery wherein the creator of man's flesh in His own flesh hung on the gibbet" "Vexilla regis," first stanza, trans. Connelly, in Hymns of the Roman Liturgy, 80). Hence infantile or amateurish dabblings in this important matter must be avoided. Lacking a relic of the true cross, a large wooden cross will suffice. Pseudo-Alcuin had already observed that "those who do not have the wood of the Lord, in good faith adore that which they have" (Pseudo-Alcuin, De Divinus Officialis Liber XVIII, in Patrologia Latina, 101:1210C). In the ninth century, Amalarius of Metz, while wishing that every church possessed a portion of the sacred wood, was nevertheless convinced that "the power of the holy cross is not lacking in those crosses which are made in the likeness of the Lord's cross" (Liber Officialis I, 14:10, ed. J. M. Hanssens, in Amalarii Episcopi Opera Liturgica Omnia [Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1948], 2:102). Besides enabling the texts and gestures of the liturgy to regain their authenticity, veneration of the cross rather than a crucifix on Good Friday would restore a truly universal Catholic tradition. It would bring Christians of today into living contact with the one, undivided church of past centuries, with the ancient Jerusalem church, and ultimately with Calvary itself. And having devoutly kissed the instrument of salvation, they could then commune sacramentally with him who once hung upon it, but who now reigns in glory and will one day come again in order to manifest his universal kingship over all creation.