Enshrined at the heart of Christian faith stands the cross—an emblem both exalted and scorned, sublime and scandalous. It is the oldest, most sacred, yet most contested symbol of the Church, intertwining suffering with triumph, shame with glory. From simple marks etched in stone to ornate crucifixes adorning cathedrals, the cross has journeyed through centuries of devotion, persecution, misunderstanding, and reverence. It embodies the paradox of Christian theology: divine power revealed through utter humiliation, and life born from death. Around this symbol the Church’s identity was shaped and her deepest convictions made visible.
The Symbolic Power and Early Use of the Cross
The cross—sign of redemption and suffering, emblem of victory and hope—emerged as the most venerated symbol of early Christianity. Appearing alone or coupled with other sacred elements such as the Alpha and Omega, the palm of peace, or the anchor of hope, the cross represented the nexus of Christian belief: Christ crucified and risen.
By the second century, the custom of tracing the sign of the cross had already taken root in daily Christian practice. Whether upon rising from sleep, before a meal, or upon embarking on any task, believers made the cross over themselves—gestures imbued with spiritual meaning, though often veering into superstition. Tertullian felt compelled to respond to pagan accusations of staurolatry (worship of the cross), defending the Church’s reverence for the symbol without conceding to idolatry.
Cyprian and the Apostolic Constitutions refer to the sign of the cross as integral to the rite of baptism, while Lactantius attributes to it exorcistic power, driving out demons through baptismal invocations. Prudentius commended its use as a safeguard against temptation and nocturnal terrors. Indeed, Christians employed this simple yet potent sign as both spiritual defense and daily confession.
The Christogram and the Labarum
Frequent in early Christian art, particularly on jewelry and tombs, was the Christogram—the sacred monogram formed from the Greek letters Χ (Chi) and Ρ (Rho), the initials of Χριστός (Christos). Often entwined in cruciform design, these symbols appeared with the Alpha and Omega, testifying to Christ as the beginning and the end. The phrase “In this sign,” alluding to Constantine’s vision and his famous motto In hoc signo vinces, became attached to these early depictions.
Following Constantine’s triumph over Maxentius in A.D. 312, the cross was transfigured from an emblem of ignominy into one of imperial power. It adorned military standards, helmets, shields, scepters, coins, and seals, radiating a new political theology wherein the instrument of Christ’s death became the banner of earthly authority.
Pagan Contempt and Apologetic Vindication
To the Romans, the cross signified disgrace. It was the instrument of a slave’s execution, the punishment reserved for the vilest offenders. That Christians should exalt such a symbol invited ridicule and scorn. Yet the Church Fathers responded with profound insight: they pointed to the unintentional foreshadowing of the cross in Roman standards and natural forms—the mast of a ship, the outstretched arms of a praying man, the soaring wings of a bird. These analogies served not merely to defend but to elevate the sign of the cross as one embedded in the very fabric of creation.
Indeed, the cross’s appearance was not confined to Christianity. Archaeological and ethnographic studies have revealed its presence among pre-Christian civilizations: the Egyptian ankh, Buddhist emblems in India, and sacred signs among the ancient Mexicans all utilized cross-like symbols. Whether seen as a blessing or a curse, the cross bore deep, often mysterious significance across cultures.
Scholars such as Mortillet, Haslam, and Zöckler have chronicled these broader cross traditions, showing that the cross’s pre-Christian manifestations only magnified the astonishing reversal wrought on Golgotha: what was once a universal image of burden and sorrow was now reborn as the radiant sign of salvation.
The Cross and the Crucifix in Christian Practice
Ironically, both the cross and the Lord’s Prayer—though held most sacred—have often suffered from overuse and abuse. Their ubiquity exposed them to both superstition and iconoclasm, yet these extremes bear ironic witness to the power and centrality of the truths they represent.
Unlike the symbolic cross, the crucifix—that is, the visual representation of Christ affixed to the cross—is of later origin. The historical record yields no certain evidence of its use before the mid-sixth century. The great councils of Nicaea and Chalcedon make no mention of it. One of the earliest known crucifixes appears in an illuminated Syrian Gospel manuscript dated to A.D. 586, now housed in Florence. Gregory of Tours recounts a crucifix in the Church of St. Genesius in Narbonne which portrayed the Savior nearly unclothed, a depiction that caused offense and was subsequently veiled at the bishop’s command.
The Venerable Bede records another early example: a crucifix brought to the monastery of Weremouth in 686, depicting Christ on one side and Moses’ bronze serpent on the other. Such imagery blended typology and devotion, underscoring Christ’s identification with the suffering serpent lifted up for the healing of the people.
From Cross to Crucifix: Iconographic Development
The evolution of Christian iconography moved gradually from the crux simplex to more explicit images. First came the cross alone, then the Lamb—sometimes bearing a cross upon its head or fastened to it. Eventually, artists depicted Christ holding the cross (as in the sarcophagus of Probus, d. 395) or standing before it (as in the Church of St. Pudentiana, built c. 398). Only in later centuries did the image of Christ nailed to the cross become prominent.
An intriguing artifact discovered in 1857 on the Palatine Hill in Rome may hint at earlier awareness of crucifixion imagery. It depicts a human figure with a donkey’s head nailed to a cross, with a man in adoration and the mocking inscription: “Alexamenos worships his god.” Preserved in the Museo Kircheriano, this graffiti—likely intended as blasphemy by a pagan—testifies to the cultural clash surrounding the cross. The precise date is debated, though it likely stems from the second or third century, a time when Christians in the imperial household were still suspected of idolatry and even, absurdly, of ass-worship.
Roman archaeologists such as Garrucci and Mozzoni have speculated that such caricatures reflect actual Christian use of crucifixes in that era. Yet this remains conjecture. Minucius Felix, writing in the second century, explicitly denies the use of visual representations among Christians. As with the earliest icons of Christ—originating often in Gnostic or heterodox circles—the first known depiction of the crucifix was not a venerated relic, but a pagan mockery. And yet, in this bitter jest, we find confirmation of Paul’s declaration: the message of the cross is folly to the Greeks, but to those who believe, it is the wisdom and power of God.
