Consider the cross

Instantly recognizable as the defining symbol of our predominantly Christian faith is the cross.

Yet, in spite of the cross being deeply embedded in our lives, have we spared some thought, even fleetingly during this Lenten season, and considered some aspects of it?

While most of us instinctively know what a cross is in our churches, graveyards and elsewhere after it arrived during the Spanish colonization, the cross has four basic iconographic representations.

These are the crux quadrata or Greek cross, with four equal arms; the crux immissa or Latin cross, the base stem of which is longer than the other three arms; the crux commissa, in the form of the Greek letter tau; and the crux decussata, named after the Roman decussis, or the symbol of the numeral 10.

Christian tradition “favors the crux immissa as the one on which Christ died, but some believe that it was a crux commissa,” says the Encyclopedia Britannica.

Beyond its shape, however, the cross remains the most powerful and enduring symbol of both the Christian religion and Christ himself and “the redeeming benefits of his passion and death.”

But it wasn’t so for a long time. Early Christians, fearing persecution, dared not display the cross.

The cross’ potent and positive meaning only came much later, when Christianity triumphed and “reimagined and transformed (the cross) from a totem of ignominious suffering to a trophy of triumphant victory.”

Even without resorting to the Gospels, historical research does show that the cross in the ancient pagan world stood for a brutal form of capital punishment, making it difficult to transform the cross into an icon of redemption.

Frequently used against political and religious agitators, pirates, slaves, and those who had no civil rights, execution by crucifixion was definitely gruesome, with the suffering designed to be excruciatingly prolonged and painful.

“Usually,” the Encyclopedia Britannica says, “the condemned man, after being whipped, or “scourged,” dragged the crossbeam of his cross to the place of punishment, where the upright shaft was already fixed on the ground.

”Stripped of his clothing…he was bound fast with outstretched arms to the crossbeam or nailed firmly to it through the wrists. The crossbeam was then raised high against the upright shaft…

”Next, the feet were tightly bound or nailed to the upright shaft. A ledge inserted about halfway up the upright shaft gave some support to the body; evidence of a similar ledge for the feet was rare and late.

“Over the criminal’s head was placed a notice stating his name and his crime.

“Death ultimately occurred through a combination of constrained blood circulation, organ failure, and asphyxiation as the body strained under its own weight.”

Death “could be hastened by shattering the legs with an iron club, which prevented them from supporting the body’s weight and made inhalation more difficult, accelerating both asphyxiation and shock.”

In our folk culture, an inkling of how brutal crucifixion is survives in the bloody practices of the Holy Week flagellants and the Good Friday reenactments of Christ’s crucifixion on Mount Golgotha.

Besides being symbolic of redemption, in modern times Christ’s crucifixion is often perceived as God’s identification with the suffering of the abused and oppressed, which has inspired many.

So much so that even in our secular world subtle visual representations of Christ’s crucifixion to mean the struggle and suffering of the oppressed resonate.

A striking instance of this is the late Carlos “Botong” Francisco’s mesmerizing series of large murals called “The Filipino Struggles Through History,” now at the National Museum.

Of the panels, the one with Andres Bonifacio’s outstretched arms and Rizal’s death posture as he is shot vividly invoke the cross and Christ’s death throes on the cross.