When I Survey the Wondrous Cross (Part 2)

With the emergence of the liturgical movement in our century, the restoration of the Easter Vigil and the importance of Christ's resurrection as well as that of the cross, there has been a corresponding artistic and popular response. Once again, as in the sixth to ninth centuries, a robed Christ, triumphant and serene, has appeared on many crosses.

There is a noticeable shift away from medieval "Christ in agony" crosses in the new art, which is trying to bring out the mystery of Easter as well as that of Good Friday.

Devotional literature now tends to meditate on the psychological aspects of the cross rather than the physical pain. Father Henri Nouwen's image of the "Wounded Healer" captures this turn as well as anyone. What all this proves is that the mystery of Christ's cross is full of spiritual treasures, which each generation taps according to its needs. [Editor's note: the recent film by Mel Gibson, "The Passion of the Christ," represents a distinct turning from the soft and stylized renderings of the crucifixion to a more literal and dramatic depiction — some say the film is as much a work of visual art as it is cinema.]

But today, there still remains a varied approach to the cross, what Jurgen Moltmann calls the "mysticism of the cross," which deserves comment here.

The poor and suffering of this world tend to understand the crucified Jesus better than the rich. The poor identify with the cross. Prosperous Christian cultures consider Christmas and Easter the highlights of the Church year. But in poorer cultures, such as in many areas of Latin America, Holy Week is the feast of the poor.

They know how to share in the suffering and death of Jesus. The scourged Jesus brings healing to those who are beaten. The Jesus crowned with thorns brings God to those who suffer. The dying Jesus brings life to those who are dying. The rejected Christ, as the Wounded Healer, stands with the lost and gives them hope.

We hear the same faith in the black spirituals and slave songs from the American South. Filled with immediacy, the music of the slaves came from the cross in living dialogue. "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" Yes, we were. "Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?" Yes, we were. Jesus is at our side. History collapses where the cross of Christ and the cross of the poor coincide.

Polish photographer Adam Bujak and American journalist Marjorie Young have published a book, "Journey into Glory — A Celebration of the Human Spirit," about the traditional rural rituals of Catholic Poland.

They gather around a life-sized wooden statue of Jesus, whose hands are chained to a pole and on whose body wound marks can be seen. The statue portrays Jesus not as an elegant figure, but as a simple peasant. Pilgrims place candles around him and talk to him as a friend. They stroke his face lovingly and tell him their problems. Some ask for cures or to be able to see or hear better. Others kiss his hands and face and prostrate themselves before him.

During Pope John Paul II's visit to the United States in 1987, I served as one of the U.S. bishops' representatives to the media. I traveled to all nine cities and witnessed many interesting features of the papal visit. In Columbia SC, the Pope was invited to lead an ecumenical service in the state university football stadium.

Because the stadium was owned by the state, some protested (on the grounds of separation of church and state) that the cross should not be erected until the Pope actually arrived for the service. This presented the planners with a challenge to do this in a reverent and dignified manner. Their solution was ingenious.

When the Pope was ready to enter the stadium, 50,000 people stood and began to sing, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross. At that moment, from the end zone opposite the stage there emerged two processions, parallel to one another. On one side were five men carrying a huge wooden cross in a horizontal position. On the other side were five men carrying a large banner depicting the victorious Lamb of God, slain and risen from the dead. Cross and banner arrived at the altar just as the congregation finished the last verse of the hymn and the Pope arrived. Cross and banner were implanted into the earth amid the final strains of the music and these words: "Love so amazing, so divine, demands my life, my soul, my all."

That scene evoked the triumph of the cross, not so evident on the first Good Friday, except to a few whose faith could penetrate the mystery. But on that warm autumn afternoon in the Carolinas, Christ's victory was luminously clear.

Norbertine Father Alfred McBride is the author of many articles and books, including The Seven Last Words of Jesus (Saint Anthony Messenger Press) and Essentials of the Faith: A Guide to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Our Sunday Visitor).

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Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross and Good Friday